“Soon, you’re going to have to move out!” cried my neighbor upon seeing the largest tomato plant known to mankind, or at least known i: exactly;"urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" />105.0pt 189.0pt 273.0pn my neighborhood.
   One tiny 9-inch plant, bought for $1. 25 in the spring, has already taken over much of my rose bed, covering much of other plants, and is well on its way to the front door.
   Roses require a good deal of care, and if it weren’t for the pleasure they give, it wouldn’t be worth the work. As it is, I have a garden full of sweet-smelling roses for most of the year. bushes must be pruned(¼ôÖ¦) in early spring, leaving ugly woody branches until the new growth appears a few weeks later. It was the space available(¿ÉÓõÄ) in the garden that led me into planting just one little tomato plant. A big mistake.
   Soil conditions made just perfect for roses turn out to be even more perfect for tomatoes. The daily watering coupled with full sun and regular fertilizing(Ê©·Ê) have turned the little plant into a tall bush. The cage I placed around it as the plant grew has long since disappeared under the thick leaves.
   Now the task I face in harvesting the fruit is twofold; First, I have to find the red ones among the leaves, which means I almost have to stand on my head, and once found I have to reach down and under, pick the tomatoes and withdraw(Ëõ»Ø) my full fist without dropping the prize so dearly won. I found two full-blown white roses pletely hidden as I picked tomatoes in June, but they were weak and the leaves already yellow for lack of light.