Posted by admin | Posted in Tomato plant care | Posted on 27-06-2010
Tags: Bird Poop, Blt, Daddy Daddy, Family Chores, Fertilizer, Gardener, Girls Ages, Grocery Store, Home Depot, Kids Chores, Mato, Military Surplus Store, Planting Tomatoes, Potting Soil, Saturday Morning, Styrofoam, Tomato Patch, Tomato Plants, What The Heck, Wig Head

“You know what this sandwich needs?”, I would always say to my wife when she made BLT’s. “A real tomato, THAT”S what it needs”. I could never make her understand that these red bags of water, that the grocery store called, “tomatoes” wasn’t the real thing.
“Well plant your own, since you think you’re so smart”, she replied one day. I thought to myself, “Why the heck not”. “My Mom’s a great gardener, surely I must possess some of that skill”.
So began the odyssey of our tomato patch.
I’m one of those fathers who employs his kids in all family chores. I figure the labors cheap, and besides my parents did it to me. My girls (ages 5 and 3) were drafted to be my crew. We went down to the Home Depot to scope out some plants.
“What are we doing Dad?”, they asked. “We’re planting tomatoes”. beamed their father. I’m was gonna teach the girls, the value in home grown vegetables. By the time we got home I’d spent $112.95 in tomato plants, fertilizer, potting soil, and big pots to put them in. (Did I mention we lived in an apartment?)
The terrace was nice and sunny. We got all the plants put in. My oldest daughter made a scarecrow out of an old shirt of mine, a stick, and a Styrofoam wig head that my wife gave her. It looked scary enough to me, so I set it right smack in the middle of our tomato patch.
The next morning I stepped out to look over my tomato plantation, only to find cats had dug up 3 of the plants, and what looked like bird poop on the scarecrow. “What the heck”, I yelled. “There’s varmints in the mator patch!” After work I got some netting at the military surplus store. They had tons of it for $50.00 bucks.
6 weeks go by. Nothing…
Finally one early Saturday morning. (I mean early) My daughter comes rushing into our bedroom. “Daddy, daddy, we got a mato”. “Thats nice, go back to bed”. I moaned.
“DAD!”
I got up and went out to the terrace, and sure enough, there was a tiny little tomato. I was choked up with pride. My little girl and I just staring at our little tomato. We knew that all the hard work and sacrifice was going to pay off. Considering that all but that one plant had succumbed to one disaster or another. A bird had even made a nest in our scarecrow. We named it Charley.
Through the rest of that summer, we babied and nurtured that freaking little tomato. Lord love me it was the only one to grow on that stupid plant.
Finally the day came, and we picked it. I took it inside, and my wife sliced it up for BLT”s. I took my first bite, and gloried in the marvel of fresh ripe heaven. “Now that’s what a BLT is supposed to taste like.”
That tomato cost me $162.95 but I swear it was worth it.





