What is it in the process of maturation that takes a kid with no interest in gardening and an absolute disgust with the process of "weeding", and turns him into someone whose fascinated with the activity of growing things?

Everybody tells me the same story--at some point you just want to grow something.

Since I like fresh vegetables, especially tomatoes, I've been growing them ever since I became a homeowner in my middle twenties, but living out east, it was never much of a challenge--you planted them, they grew, you ate them. Since moving to Utah and its high desert climate, things have been considerably more challenging.

My initial attempts were dismal, so I got scientific and started paying a lot of attention to the conditions my tomatoes were growing it, which meant relocating the garden, substantial soil amendments and an automated watering system. Now, by neighborhood acclamation, I am a tomato-growing genius.

Thank you, Thank you.

On the point of this post--frost is imminent in the next few weeks and as I'm hauling in shopping bags full of tomatos, I can at this point report on some of the varieties I've been working with.

Roma: Absolutely fantastic production--unbelievable really. I think I could make enough tomato sauce to last us a year from two plants. Roma's produce cosmetically perfect fruit everytime, don't need delicate handling and dissolve into paste with a moderate amount of heat. I'll be planting some every year from now on.

Big Beef: A very vigorous plant. Forget about a tomato cage--you'll need a six foot 2 x 2 pole and some kitchen string to keep the plant from overrunning your garden and four foot square of bed space. While the fruit is large, firm and tasty it has an unfortunate tendancy to split at the top and invite mildew and mold. Comparatively, its not a great producer. I think I'll skip this one in the future.

Bush Goliath: I would still recommend a pole over a tomato cage with this variety, although it doesn't grow as large as some varieties. What it does is produce large quantities of medium-size, unmarred, fleshy and really tasty fruit. Its a little thin-skinned, which is no problem for a garden tomato, but the reason you won't see it at the supermarket. Slice it up, salt, pepper and olive oil and enjoy. This one is a keeper.

Driving the Mojave desert between the Hoover Dam and Kingman, Arizona, we spied these brilliant fucshia-colored flowers at the side of the road. Prickly pear cactus beavertail cactus is blooming this time of year, as are a number of other varieties, providing surprising splotches of bright yellows and oranges and pinks in the arid desert landscape.

P.S. NY Times on "garden vigilantes"--Peter Rabbit Must Die.

I planted lavender this year. I've never grown it before, but I like the soothing fragrance and the look, so I hope it will survive. Maybe this was in the back of my mind, a sniff of Provence, but it's an American tradition as well. (Unlike the Times, I don't feel guilty about planting it.)

I'm also thinking about planting some arugula, but will probably just end up killing it. It doesn't really belong in a victory garden.