Tomatoes

I've met many octogenarians who have downsized from house, yard, and garden, to apartment or condo. Yet, each summer, they still have a potted tomato plant or two. They just can't give up the taste of a warm, vine-ripened tomato. I thought of those folks this weekend, when a 73-year-old man was telling me about his little garden with 24 tomato plants. "What do you do with that many tomatoes?" I ask. "Oh, we eat some. We give some away," he says. "I've downsized my tomato crop this year," I tell him. I was spending way too many August and September nights canning tomatoes and making sauce. As I was weeding and staking my tomatoes yesterday, I wondered how gardens end up with so many tomatoes. I made an effort to buy only six plants this year -- four Amish Paste for canning and sauce, a Berkley Tie Dye and a Green Zebra for eating. Not counting chickens, I'm the only tomato eater in my family, so that should be plenty. I staked 10 plants. In addition to the ones I bought I also had two Mountain Fresh, a Black Pearl, and a Pink Brandywine that my mother gave me. That's the thing about tomatoes. Everyone seems to have extra plants. Everyone has favorite varieties. Every tomato offers a unique flavor or memory.