Last summer I I cut down a bunch of privet that had been growing around the stump of an oak tree that died and I had taken down. I piled it around the stump and after burn bans had eased I burnt the dried branches in the hope that it would not return and I could use the area to plant something better.
Something better turned out to be a volunteer tomato plant. Last summer when the branches were piled high I must have picked a less than desirable tomato from that summers crop and tossed it on my refuse pile. A seed apparently survived the burn, the winter and various chopping and trimmings to thrive. I spotted it and protected it. There are now 15 tomatoes on this one plant.
By contrast I have another tomato plant in one of those fancy water from the bottom planters fertilized by cow patties stolen from my neighbor's pasture and it looks good but only has four tomatoes.
I could turn this into a very spiritual discussion of the best laid plans and all that but I have noticed one consistent thing about my growing tomatoes. I usually grow a few tomatoes every year but the most memorable crop I ever grew was when the Chernobyl reactor in Ukraine blew. They blew up a bunch of stuff in Ukraine this week. I'm not saying it's the Ukrainians but it must be the Ukrainians.
I have a half a dozen or so Japanese egg plants also growning. A few of then look pretty good and I'll let you know how that turns out.
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