Behold the fruits of summer!

I love tomatoes. Growing up on a small farm, every year my father would plant a large garden and a multitude of plant boxes. We had broccoli, carrots, potatoes, corn, green beans, even pumpkins one year when my brother decided it would be fun (not so fun afterall when they literally took over our back yard). And of course, tomatoes.

Dad would plant several of them and when they were at their peak, we’d be on the receiving end of anywhere from 10 to 30 pounds of the things! My brothers and I would run through the garden and snatch them off the vine and eat them like apples. It was like eating sunshine; sweet and tangy and warm.

It’s been years since I had the pleasure of eating a tomato straight off the vine, plucked at it’s plumpest and the flesh sprinkled with a dash of salt. I magically obtained two plants this year: a beefsteak from my mother and a persimmon variety for Earth Day from work. I set to work and planted them. And after much watering, tending, cursing, staking, fertilizing and the occasional replanting, I was finally granted the reward for my work.

The reason behind the occasional replanting

This, my friends, are the results of my hard work. Two tomatoes. I was hoping for more of a bumper crop but the heat of summer has taken its toll. Still, I am proud of my yield.

The bumper crop of 2009

My other plants are faring as well as can be as well. I have more oregano than I know what to do with and while my lemon tree took some abuse early in the year that prevented it from further blooming, it has grown lush and green. My persimmon tomato has yet to yield anything, but with any luck and a little tender loving care, I just might possibly get some tomatoes out of it yet.

While it cost me more to grow my own tomatoes, there is a certain sense of satisfaction and pride that comes with being able to see the fruits of one’s labor. With any luck, my lessons learned from this summer in planting will serve me well for next year and in the years to come when Sybilla is older and we can plant together.

Until next time,