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Posted by Susanna McLeod Jun 23, 2008 |
My father had the magic touch when it came to gardening. Of course, gardening in Canada is not easy. The season is short, the weather might be soggy one year, scorching the next, and frosts may arrive late in spring or early in fall. Somehow, he managed the biggest tomato plants I’ve ever seen, year after year.
Years ago, in my own garden, I was able to grow plants that would have made my father proud. They were tall – four feet tall - with large, veined leaves that had that particular smell only tomato plants have, and with lots of ripe, juicy, beefsteak tomatoes. I was in my gardening glory that year. But such glee did not last. Every year since then, and we’re talking nearly two decades, my tomato plants have barely grown past the one-foot mark. Sure, there might be a nice cluster or two of fruit, but the bushes remain small.
Some years, the tomato plants don’t grow at all, staying nearly the same size as when planted. Fertilizers, different garden placement, dedicated watering, none of it helps. Such challenges give me a hearty respect for Canadian farmers, who manage huge fields of crops with great outcome, and are able to provide ample food for all. The history of successful farming in Canada goes back hundreds of years, to the Aboriginals and to the French and British Colonists. Their abilities to work the land and feed others were true, hard-earned skills.
As for this year, forget tomatoes. I’m growing gladiolus flowers instead. Maybe I’ll have more luck with tomatoes next year.