Last year I planted Baker heirloom tomatoes from seed, a gift from my nurseryman friend, Doug. They produced beautifully through the early fall.
Tomato seeds are small, so I left a glob of wet seeds together to dry on a piece of cardboard. I usually dry seeds on wax paper, but I was fresh out, so I used the back of a tea box instead. Once dried, all the seeds stuck to the paper. No worries. I just stored them in a glassine bag, cardboard and all. Earlier this week I planted the seeds along with the cardboard in my mini green house. We’ll see how it goes.
In order to hedge my bets, I bought a packet of seeds from fellow blogger Stacey Weichert at Down To Earth Digs. The seeds from Stacey’s garden are also heirloom. She calls them Natures Riddle. They came packaged in a cute paper envelope. You can check them out at her Etsy shop.
Tomatoes to the third power:
While busy saving and buying seeds, my garden bed had a good chuckle and then planted a few of its own. They’re spaced nicely, too so minimal thinning required. Prior experience tells me that these volunteers will be a hardy bunch. Since I planted five or six varieties last year, I don’t know which ones will come up.
The mathematical goddess of tomatoes is really having a good time with me. One small tomato plant seeded and grew out of the bottom of my cylinder composting bin. I don’t know what it’s chances of survival are, but I’m inclined to let it grow and see what comes of it. Plenty of people grow tomatoes upside down in Topsy Turvy containers. Why not a compost bin?
In the world of gardening, anything can happen between now and tomato time. Blight, tobacco horn worms, the Cosmos. Preferring the optimists path however, if things work out I’ll be giving away little tomato plants all over town.
I’ll leave you with this funny quote:
“Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit. Wisdom is knowing that a tomato doesn’t belong in a fruit salad.”
― Miles Kington