Tomatoes

My Tomato Plant

This post was originally published August 17, 2023.

Growing up, I spent my summers holding the hose over long garden beds filled with squash, cucumbers, tomatoes, and more. The bees buzzed from flower to flower, and eventually, the petals would wilt away to form fruit. I’d cut the cucumbers from the vine, careful not to prick my finger on its spines, and pluck the bright red tomatoes to place in a bowl.

I hated it.

The gardens spanned across our large lawn, and I would have to take an hour out of my day to make sure they got enough water. I pulled gross slugs off the leaves and swatted away vicious blackflies in the spring. I was constantly weeding out sprigs of other plants, deadheading the marigolds, and then trucking it all over to the compost pile when winter rolled around.

We got so much produce from the gardens. We spent our summers eating fresh salads and so many cucumber and tomato sandwiches, it's a wonder I’m not sick of eating them today. I swore I would never have a garden when I was older.

I’m sitting at my desk, looking out at my balcony, and I’m worried about my tomatoes.

This summer has been filled with torrential downpours, which have not been kind to gardens anywhere. I have four pots. Two tomatoes and two cucumbers. The cucumbers have been blossoming for the past month with bright, vibrant yellow flowers, and I’m hoping they’ll bear fruit by the time September rolls around. But my tomatoes… My tomatoes have barely flowered. They tease me with a couple small green tomatoes this month, so I continue to check their water levels and tend to them the few days they get dry.

Before I got my cat, I got a bunch of plants. Having grown up with the woods in my backyard, I missed being surrounded by green. I’m not particularly good at taking care of them, but they add color to my otherwise cream-colored apartment. When I look out over the balcony, I see the parking lot, and I thought, “Gee, some flowers would be nice to block this view.” Then I thought, “Oh. What if I got some vegetable plants? Then I could eat my own produce.” So I bought some cucumber seeds and tomato plants.

There are all the practical reasons for growing my own food, like that it's cheaper and doesn’t carry any pesticides, but there’s also the pride in picking my very own tomato after waiting weeks for it to grow on the vine. My relationship with food has evolved over the years and may be something I dig into more in a future post, but my gardening the last few has had a heavy hand in that change. I made salsa for the first time a couple years ago because I had more tomatoes than I could eat. A little spark of excitement flooded through me as I laid out a plate of nachos with toppings that I had completely made. Perhaps gardening speaks to the part of me that is desperate to accomplish something. The part of me that delights at seeing something colorful and healthy on my plate. The part of me that knows I’m doing something kind to myself.

I’m still not eager to lug a heavy hose around a lawn, but I’ll take a moment to press my finger against the soil, and check on my tomatoes.