These are my tomato plants. They are 8 feet tall–no joke Husband measured them. I’m off to Chicago for a long weekend. I expect that while I’m gone all of the tomatoes will ripen.
These are my babies–I know they know I’m leaving.
The “fertilizer” was the clover planted in this bed last year and turned over in the spring. I watered them deeply when I transplanted them from the pots I grew the seeds in and I think I watered them twice from the hose this year. 8 frigging feet tall. The cherry tomatoes are as big as plums.
Go organic and you too can, have many tall plants with hundreds of tomatoes.
Talk to you when/if I get back. I may have shorter hair by then.
*These are just my Creekside reflections. Your experiences may vary.
I should be wearing a cape, as I’ve found myself thrust into the role of my dreaded alter ego: Chore girl.
Today, after pilates, I put up a cord of wood, mowed the front triangle, moved the swing, mowed that part of the yard, washed dishes, put laundry away and that’s all off the top of my head. I don’t think I stopped moving for more than ten minutes today.
I was once again reminded of what I know to be true—if I try to put off writing, writing will not be denied. On a brief break, I penned a 53 word story for a contest. After I put up some more wood, I polished and sent it off. It’s not even a mental ‘I must write,’ it has become a physical craving.
Not a bad problem to have.
So much more to finish before I head off to Chicago. I’m so excited! Back to mowing! I hope your last two weeks have been great!
*These are just my Creekside Reflections. Your experience may vary.