Relentless Inquiry

I have had a 3×5 card on my desk for over 2 weeks, with everything on it crossed off except ‘START SEEDS’. Argh! Last night, finally, I got my game on and started spring seedlings. I admit that one of the complications was that I had to rearrange the porch to actually create useable space for a folding table near the outlet, so that I could use my new seed-starting mats. But still.

I’m still not sure how many tomato plants I can realistically put into my rearranged garden beds. I also, of course, want room for lots of peppers and an eggplant or two. Things like beans can vine up into the sun, or in the case of yellow bush beans, fit into a small sunny row at the edge of a bed. It’s the towering redwood kudzu of indeterminate tomato plants that requires the complicated space planning. There will *not* be a yellow pear tomato this year. Last year, despite frequent prunebacks, it turned into a tomato TREE, going not only up onto the neighbors’ carport roof but trying to grow into their storage shed through the vents. Yargh. We’re going to put something a bit tamer in that spot this year, yes. But let’s cut to the chase: What did I start?

• Early Girl, Better Boy, Stupice, Moskvich, Gregori’s Altai
• Amish Paste, Yellow Plum, Black Plum, Principe Borghese
• Noir de Crimee, Black Cherry, Santa Clara Canner, Aunt Ruby’s German Green
• Hawaiian Pineapple, Pineapple, Tigerella, Green Zebra
• Ping Tung Long (eggplant), Lil Spooky (eggplant), Toma Verde (tomatillo)
• Super Shepherd Frying, Hungarian Paprika, Hungarian Yellow Wax, Jimmy Nardello (all peppers)

I haven’t even planted one-of-each of all the varieties of tomatoes I acquired this year. Even in the 1 – 2 dozen seeds per packet homegrown / small-supplier form, I suspect I will just plain not have to buy tomatoes ever again. Of course, I certainly *will*, because there’s bound to be something I really want to try. But I digress. This set of seedlings has onesy-twosey of a couple of things, but is mostly in groups of 3 or 4. I figure one for me, one to make sure there’s one for me, and I never seem to have a problem finding people who want good tomato seedlings. In fact, instead of proferring them to all and sundry, I might just give a few to my bestest buddies and trot the rest of them down to the local flea market this year. I have things you won’t find at the local hardware store, and if I can get a buck or two each for some seedlings in recycled 4-inch pots, I won’t feel quite so bad about how much I spent on tomato seeds this year.

Just as the best way to feel bad on a dive vacation is to divide the cost of the trip by the number of useable photos you got (oooh, BAD move!), I am going to not think about all I’ve spent on seeds, perlite, garden tools, raised beds, the greenhouse, etc, because otherwise I will feel absolutely dreadful. Besides, I’m psychologically incapable of spending that same amount on a CSA subscription for a box full of mostly kale, which I don’t really eat. I’d just blow it on retirement planning or repainting the house or something. And that’s no fun, right? Right! It’s not just a hobby, it’s a sacred calling. So there.

Besides, I’ll be starting a ton of Ace, Better Boy, and other rugged, garden-novice-compatible tomato seedlings for the new Sunnyvale Community Garden later on, so I’d better start my stuff while I can. And my 3×5 card? It’s still there, with “START SEEDS” crossed off, but next to it written “START ROOTS”. I’m really, really behind on getting carrots, beets, radishes, and chard into the new beds…