Every year I would put young tomato plants in a raised bed and some tubs. This year, not being able to replace outdoor wheelchair, I planted only three, in tubs. Two plants died. One survived, carefully watered, and shaded from the midday heat.

The surviving plant produced many flowers but only one fruit. It shouldn't have been small, or heart-shaped, but the poor plant did its best. I shall save some seeds to honour it.

Today I shall eat the tomato. Ceremonially.