Seed Exchange

Last summer was my first genuine effort at growing tomatoes. I cheated and bought small plants from the Home Depot. Nothing special, just run-of-the-mill roma tomatoes. The whole experience was fairly effortless, aside from those pesky caterpillars with the spiky horn on their head. I think they should be called devil worms, but the official name is Manduca quinquemaculata. Perhaps you've had the misfortune of seeing one. Most gardeners suggest the best defense is picking them off by hand. Unfortunately, I cannot touch them for fear of either being poked by that awful horn or accidentally applying too much pressure and squishing their guts out. The latter would spin me straight into a wobbler, assuming the guts come out all green and gooey. When we were were youngsters (living out on the rural route), John and I would walk down to the pond to go fishing. Once this kid got a hook in his eye, but that's another story. I never made it to worming my own hook. I hate touching wormy-squishy things. They're never actually dead you know. They just grow new parts and keep wiggling. Yuck.

Anyways, wigglers aside, I got the idea of starting tomatoes from seed from Casey's master gardener of a grandpa last summer. After one of our Sunday morning visits, he sent us home with a large heirloom variety from his backyard and told me to dry the seeds out on a paper towel and drop them in a little soil come spring. Well spring is here and the seeds are germinating. So far no snags. Just put them in some soil and left them to cook on top of the refrigerator. Should be interesting to see what comes up. Well, I'm sure they'll be tomatoes, but you know what I mean.

Some of you may be surprised by my interest in tomatoes. It use to be that ketchup was the only form of tomato I could bear to choke down. A summer trip to Italy, where the tomatoes taste like candy, changed all that. You've never had a better tomato than an Italian tomato. It's near impossible to find a tomato as good, but I've found the trick is you have to grow your own—vine ripe, never refrigerated, the uglier the better. Have you had an exceptional tomato lately? Let's swap seeds! Dry the seeds out on a paper towel and drop it in the mail. Don't bother with any ordinary varieties. It needs to be something unusual. The more exotic the better... maybe something striped or purple or just extra tasty. I'll be waiting, trowel in hand.