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.