Spending the last few days navigating icy roads and lake effect snow in the Upper Peninsula has me thinking about tomatoes. Springtime below the bridge is coming soon. The wind is crisp but the sky is bright and blue. No buds in the yard to speak of and the grass is brown but at least it isn't covered in white. I'm not a real gardener--not like my dad. Anything that happens to survive in my patch of dirt is a bonus. I started out fairly dedicated last year but I ended up distracted by other responsibilities. Even though I neglected them terribly, my tomatoes grew in abundance.