I Wouldn't Normally Share This...

But I believe you need to see it. With spring fast approaching, I’m preparing my tomato seeds for their sprouting trays and later transplant into the garden. I can’t tell you how many people would love to grow tomatoes but simply feel it’s too difficult. It’s not. This photograph proves it.

These are my fall tomatoes. They look horrible. They’re half-dead, many are broken in half, the support system has long been destroyed, yet they are still producing. Yes, you heard me right. They are still producing delicious tomatoes. Back in December, after an early blast of blustery winds and freezing temperatures, I nearly gave up on them. My beautiful plants had been devastated by Mother Nature’s feisty behavior, and I thought, what’s the point?

Yet I couldn’t completely let go. I figured, what the heck? I don’t have anything else to replace them at the moment. Why not let them go?

And “go” they did. December and January proved warmer than normal and my tomatoes thrived. Sort of. Not in the traditional sense of the word where one would expect to see beautiful green plants and ruby-red fruits, but thrive in the sense of production. The most important aspect of growing tomato plants. Sure the plants fell over, bamboo stakes no match for the heavy fruit, but I continued to watch and monitor.

Each day I visited my garden, I noticed my tomatoes continued to form and plump. Not a fan of green tomatoes, I waited. Hopefully. Tentatively. The minute I saw signs of red–the initial stages of ripening–I snatched the fruit from the vine and took it indoors. Setting it by a sunny window, I watched as it turned gorgeous and fully red within days.

Granted, the fruit had been scarred by the rough conditions it had endured and didn’t look its best, but if you can overlook the marks and occasional spot and slice the good section of fruit, you will be utterly amazed how divine the taste. I was.

So take heart. These gems are more resilient than you might think. They can survive some pretty harsh conditions. I think one of the keys to my success was early dusting. Using a dipel dust or similar product, I dusted liberally as the plants grew and prevented worms and bugs from weakening them. I believe it was this healthy start on life that saw them through to the end.

This week, I’ve completed the task of seed saving. Taking the biggest, most beautiful tomato, I scooped out the seed and pulp, placed it in a jar and covered it with water. Sealing it with plastic wrap, I poked a hole in the top and placed the jar by a sunny window.

Within a few days, mold formed over the surface, a sign it was time to separate the good from the bad. The good seeds will be on the bottom of the jar. The bad will be caught up in the moldy pulp surface. I scooped the yuck out, rinsed the remaining seeds and set them on a plate to dry. In a couple of days, they can easily be scooped up and prepared for sprouting.

This weekend I will transfer the seeds to trays and get a head start on the spring growing season. Because these are warm-loving plants, I definitely don’t want them in ground until I’m certain the last frost has passed. And remember, the secret to blossom-end rot free tomatoes is a mix of Epsom Salts and eggshells. I usually wait until I transfer them to the garden before adding, though a light dose of this concoction won’t hurt right from the start.