We Are Going Home

Saturday was a big day.  My 30 tomato plants made the trip from the Coop to Uncle Bob’s.  Today will be a big day of planting.  No rest and  no barbecues.

I remember talking with Uncle Bob about tomatoes in February; he suggested I “stagger start” them.  He meant “start a few seeds one week, a few more seeds the next week, and then a few more seeds another week.  Did I listen to him?  NO.  I’m not sure why, but I took the “all or nothing” approach again this year, starting all my heirloom indeterminate tomato seeds at once.

It’s a big production for a chicken coop-sized condo; I have heat mats and a large grow light in a west-facing window.  I wonder what my neighbors think.

It’s stressful; I worry about my seedlings from the minute I start them until I finally put them in the ground.  Then, I worry about them when I’m not at home.  I wish they’d write to me.

One year, I brought them home early and put my parents in charge of them.  Herman and Helen didn’t have the same passion for the job; in fact, one weekend I came home and threw a little tantrum.

“You’re trying to kill my tomatoes.  You’re tomato killers!”

That was kind of juvenile; my parents are terrific; they’re just not wanna-be farmers.

All’s well that ends well.  Most of the half-dead tomatoes were resurrected in the dirt of Uncle Bob’s garden and grew to be crazy, out of control, fruit producing plants.

They don’t call me Aunt Tomato for nothing.

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