Yesterday, we planted the last of the tomatoes — seventeen in all. Somehow those little six packs looked a lot less ambitious at the local hardware/garden supply before they were transplanted into peat pots and then – later – staked in the garden. I will admit that I am glad we are past the point of ferrying them in and outside of the house at any sign of good or foul weather.
We’re growing a few varieties – Early Girl (since we live in such a northern climate that sometimes larger tomatoes are hard to come by before the first frost), another variety of large early tomatoes that came unlabeled, and Sugar Sweets (the cherries, which were the last to go in after developing a bad case of aphids). The cherries, which I kept quarantined in the house for an extra week were dosed daily with a mixture of 1 qt. lukewarm water & 2 tsp. of Dawn dish detergent sprayed heavily on the leaves and stems until the offending beasts dropped off. By the time I added them to the garden yesterday, there was nary an aphid left. At last check (circa six a.m.) all of the plants had taken well, protected from cutworms by recycled newspaper collars I made while planting them.
Next year, I hope to do a bit more research on varieties and keep better track of what we actually put in the ground. This year, we were more focused on how nice it was to have company while planning and planting than what we were exactly planning and planting. That’s the only way I can really explain our 20 x 40′ garden, packed tight with two varieties of potatoes, onions, garlic, beans and peas (among other things). We certainly won’t be buying grocery store veggies for a few months once the sun does a bit more work out there.
I imagine that it’s going to be a quiet day on all counts… the rain is just coming in off the mountains and two of the three cats have returned from their morning prowl along the borderlines soaking wet and sour tempered.