DF tried to winter over a trio of tomato plants last fall. He pruned them back severely and put them under a grow light in the basement, figuring the cool temperature would keep them from sprouting too much new growth.
The no-grow tactic worked a little too well. by winter solstice, one of the plants looked extremely sad and the others were bordering on despair. So he brought the best-looking one upstairs, along with the light, and set it next to our kitchen table.
The plan was to coax it back to life, not to create food just yet. That way he’d have a nice big plant to put in the greenhouse in late May to encourage the seedlings he’ll be starting this week. Meanwhile, the green encouraged us during this particularly snowy and cold winter.
When the plant showed signs of survival, we rejoiced; when it started putting out flowers, we laughed and pinched them off. No chance we were going to pollinate those blooms. The focus was surviving, not thriving. And survive it has, putting out loads of new growth and so many blossoms that we gave up pinching. It could bloom all it wanted, but we weren’t going to hand-pollinate any of them.
A week or so ago during dinner, DF did a double-take. “There’s a tomato,” he said.
