SO PROUD

Just a quick update on the "kids".... (See posts from May 20 and July 3)

All are growing into maturity, at varying rates.   Our first two little beauties were harvested with great fanfare, cut delicately, and arranged onto a serving plate to be shared 6 ways at a family dinner.   Magnifico!

I'm pretty proud of nurturing tomatoes into redness.  It's a first for me, as I come late to the gardening craze.  I want to take all the credit, but I'm seeing that growing things is a fine balance of so many factors that I feel I am the least of them.  It's actually a small miracle, isn't it?  Dirt and seeds and good weather....a delicate and powerful push toward life.

May that Force be with us all.

At least, that's the view from here...

PROUD PARENTS

You may recall my post in May about my inability to grow tomatoes.  But, with renewed commitment and the brilliant idea of naming them, talking to them, and basically anthropomorphizing them into vitality, things are going swimmingly!

We had an early scare that they may have contracted the deadly "blight", but, NO!  Hub and I got busy with gentle pruning, petting, and repeated positive affirmations, bringing them back to health!!!  Hallelujia!

So, take a look.  We are such proud parents.  Of course, there is still a ways to go...but lookin' good for now!

At least, that's the view from here...©

  

YOU SAY TOMATO, I SAY DISASTER

A while back I wrote about the fact that both of my parents, having grown up on "grow it or starve" farms in the 30's, had little desire to continue with the 'grow your own' life once they fled to the city and found the Kroger store.  My mom, however, did grow the occasional tomato and I recall them being huge, red, juicy and delicious.

I have tried to grow tomatoes too.  Unsuccessfully.  Dreadfully.  Discouragingly.

So, when Hub went to a plant sale yesterday and came home with several tomato plants of different varieties, I was not thrilled; dismayed, actually.  The pressure, once again, was on to see if we could coax any one of them to give up even one ripe tomato at harvest time.  Stressful!

Let me say this:  My house plants are healthy, happy, and thriving.  I just can't seem to duplicate my "inner" green thumb in the "outer" world of my yard.  Oh, anyone can beat back the usual insanely prolific number of species of shrub, bush, and weed here in the Northwest.  But anything I plant on purpose, especially if it is meant to end up as food on my table, usually ends up droopy, brown, and dead, in spite of my fussing and worrying and reading a library-full of gardening books.

But it's all the craze these days to grow some of your own food and believe me, I LOVE that idea.  It's just that I'm so awful at it.  And I admit, some of the awfulness is that I sort of lose interest in the science of the whole enterprise....soil chemical analysis, compost structure, watering methods, various fertilizer options (organic, of course!) and pest control (organic, of course!)  It is a botany lab that this liberal arts major flunks every time!

So, now I have these tomato plants lined up on our back deck (where they will get the most sun and reflected warmth from the wall) and already I feel they are mocking me a little.  But I have adopted a new tactic.  I am naming them.  They are going to be my little babies and I am going to anthropomorphize them into healthy growth and full fruited harvest!   I'm sure it will work.  If I think I am "feeding them breakfast" and "giving them a drink of water" and making sure they get their "booster shots" on time, and chasing away the "bully bugs"...that should work, right?

Meet Patte, Tony, Manny, Blossom, and Osue.  We also have Apollo, an independent spirit hanging out on the other side of the deck.  (Names loosely attached to the varietal, in case you were wondering.)

 I'm sure we are going to have a lovely bonding experience over the summer.

Then I will slice, dice, and devour them just like a good mommy should.

At least, that's the view from here....