I’ve written tomato posts before
I hope another won’t annoy ya
this is, I think, but half tomato
the other half’s sequoia.
For many years I’ve planted tomatoes in memory of my Grandpa Mauck. The smell of the plant always brings him back for me. Alas, the smell was about the extent of my harvest. I just couldn’t grow tomatoes. Until last year. Suddenly those Mauck gardening genes roused up, and I had actual tomatoes! I especially loved the pear tomato, so this year I tried another one, and, even though it was planted late and spindly, and in Someone Else’s Garden, it rallied and has taken exuberance to a whole new level, racing over and through the deck rail, and draping itself over the potted plants. I know that one morning I’ll wake up and find it wound around my ankle.
A pear tomato, marigolds, zinnias, dill…as you can see, dear reader, the garden is slowly, slowly becoming mine. (MINE, you wretched rabbits and Japanese beetles and chipmunks, MINE! Not YOURS!!)
August 4, 2018 at 2:43 pm
It’s beautiful and all yours! I picked a pint of cherry tomatoes this morning. But, I think in two weeks or less my tomato plants will be spent. Worse veggie gardening season ever. You go girl. 🙂
August 4, 2018 at 2:59 pm
Oh, how sad! And you put so much work into those! Thanks for being excited with me — I am beside myself with tomatoes two years in a row!
August 4, 2018 at 3:06 pm
My, that IS a big one! I am jealous that you have home-grown tomatoes – especially INDIANA home-grown tomatoes!
August 4, 2018 at 3:35 pm
Your memory serves you well! I bet you remember same as I do that back in the day gardens weren’t gardens without tomatoes. Then dinner wasn’t dinner without tomatoes! Yes, Indiana does some things very well.