The joys of gardening

My parents were keen gardeners, with a large lean-to greenhouse on the back of their house for the cultivation of seedlings. They weren't interested in an extra entertaining space, so there was only the odd chair in there for use during potting on or similar gardening activities. In summer it was not a place to linger, as the temperatures rocketed if the sun put in an appearance before early afternoon. 

 

After Dad had died Mum still grew her tomatoes, nurturing them in the greenhouse and planting them in a sunny spot once the danger of frost had passed. Her crop was impressive, but she couldn't eat them all so she shared with family and friends. Mother approaching bearing a see-through bag of ripe toms was a familiar sight thoughout September, until frost brought an end to the harvest.

Over the last couple of years, I have attempted to follow in her footsteps, but I lack her expertise. The first year I completely failed to pinch out any shoots, resulting in a large triffid-like plant which intermingled with the winter flowering jasmine and rivalled it for proportions. However, that border faced east and the fruit struggled to ripen under the vast canopy of vegetation and limited direct sunshine.  

The second year I planted my tomato plant in a pot on the patio as it is the sunniest part of our garden.  Others doubted that I would be successful, but the end of the summer resulted in an encouraging crop, with the ripening process completing on the kitchen windowsill.  

Year three and DH proudly presents me with a healthy tomato plant to nurture. Once the danger of frost has passed it was again planted in a pot on the patio, along with a few other flowering friends to encourage cross-pollination. I watched with great joy as first the flowers and then the fruit appeared. 

Then while we were away I received a text.

"The good news is that your first tomato is ripe. 

The bad news is that is yellow, so I ate it.

It was delish"

"Arghhhhh! Yellow!!!" The sender of the text knew full well that I am a middle-aged stick in the mud, who prefers her tomatoes to be of a more familiar hue.

"Never mind," responded DH, "Maybe the rest will ripen to red..."

I did not have any expectations that they would be anything other than yellow when ripe, but still we watched, just in case. 

Sadly, in turn each one went from green to yellow, failing to reach the elusive shade of red I desired."

"Looks like they will all be yellow..." I observed mournfully.

"Yes, the ones on the plot look to be the same colour," DH admitted."But the packet definitely shows red toms..." 

Presumably the word 'red' appears in the small print somewhere. 

With a colour-blind husband I won't be completely sure until things reach a fruity conclusion.

Now I have to close my eyes and eat one, to see if I can either persuade myself that it is red, or that yellow tomatoes are great too, but not until I have finished the red ones in the fridge