I know. I know. I’m a terrible blogger. Almost three weeks with nary a word, and here I am doing exactly what I said I wouldn’t do: sharing an update about my tomatoes.
I promise that I am hanging my head in shame.
I really sort of am ashamed that I haven’t done any of those things that I’ve planned to do– all of those posts and photos have been hanging out in limbo land while I’ve dealt with other things. Going through more than 1,400 photos from my son’s field day. Running the house during the husband’s last two business trips. I could go on, but I won’t. Simply put, I’ve been dealing with life. A good life to be sure, but one that occasionally gets in the way of gluing myself to a computer chair in the library/office/messy room at the front of my house.
That said, I did really want to share the progress of my container garden. It has gone from consuming about a fifth of my front porch to a quarter of it. Many of the tomato plants are already taller than their stakes.
In the beginning, I thought I could get away with two plants per pot. In this case, the Black Krim (back) were mixed with the Yellow Pear (front). They were among the first to be separated.
I have no idea how long it will be before these are ready for my salad bowl, but for now they are unbelievably heavy. They are also so hidden by the growth of the other tomatoes that I had to crawl behind and under the holly bush just to get this shot today. I’m pretty sure my neighbors think I’m crazy.
The Black Krim Heirlooms are just as beautiful and healthy as all of the other tomatoes, but I don’t have any actual tomatoes on the plant as of yet.
Lots of beautiful flowers, but not a fruit in sight. At least not one that my untrained eye has seen. This is probably a good thing, though. I’m guessing (just guessing, mind you) that this means when I’m all done with my Yellow Pear tomatoes, I’ll have these to look forward to.
The Sweet Cherry tomatoes are the most prolific. The plant is already considerably taller than the stake, and at last count, there were more than fifty tomatoes in various stages of growth with more on the way!
I love the way they grow. All random-seeming at first, and then voila: symmetry. I think. And they’re shiny. Really shiny.
Of all of the tomatoes, so far the Lemon Boy (the one in the back of the March shot) is one of my favorites. Why? It was the first-born, of course. I wonder when it’ll turn yellow.
It’s so heavy, too. I think the thing that surprise me the most is just how incredibly heavy each of the actual tomatoes is. Much heavier than in the grocery store. I wonder why that is. Maybe all of that weight will translate to flavor. I can only hope. Oh, and I had just watered these right before I took this picture. Water droplets completely unintentional, but appetizing nonetheless.
The Rutger’s Heirloom tomatoes were victims of serious overcrowding. Having bought them in as teeny tiny plants in a 4-pack, I planted them the same way. This was the type of tomato I tried last year that never did produce much and what little it did produce was stolen by (I’m going to guess) that rogue deer.
About two weeks ago, they started looking really sad and he stalks and leaves began turning yellow. I broke down and separated them, keeping two and sending two across the street to a neighbor who possesses a thumb much greener than mine. They bounced back beautifully. My two each have a tomato, and one of hers has one.
Finally, there is the tomato in which I am the most interested: the German Queen Heirloom. This tomato is supposed to be enormous– like three to four times the size of a baseball, and given the sheer amount of growth I’ve seen so far I believe it.
The leaves are broad. The stalks are strong. The scent is positively heady. The one fruit that has appeared seems to double in size every three to four days. I am a little concerned about the sheer number of flowers that are located next to each other. If these tomatoes get as large as I’ve come to believe they will, I think some more support is definitely in order. One little stake is not going to cut it.
I should have taken a shot of the tomato next to my hand– it’s about an inch and a half across at its widest point.
So there they are, the tomatoes that I promised I wouldn’t show you for a while.
I won’t make any more promises about future posts or about when I hope to get back. It just makes me feel guilty when I don’t do it, so I’ll just say until next time.
I have a lot to share, but need to find the time to share it. Maybe a routine would help.