Meet My Yard: My Missing Trash Tomato

Hello, I have sad news to report:

My big trash tomato is missing.

I guess I have to back up and tell you about how I even came to have a trash tomato to miss in the first place, huh?

Okay, so we have done quite a bit to our yard since last year when I planted the Shoe Guy tomatoes semi-successfully.

One of those things is what we affectionately call the “trash garden.” It is near enough to the front stoop that I could pour the water from Sharpie Buttsalot (or whatever liquid is left in Vernor) into it.

It is just a small, maybe 4-foot by 4-foot square that Mickey “fenced” in using fat sticks from our yard. It looks really cool, and I have a lot of pics of it on my phone. Here is one:

So, we throw random flower scraps (you can see the remains of some of last year’s dahlias above), food scraps, and my ouid liquid in this random square. There is no real plan or agenda. It just exists, and we observe it.

Yes, even at night.

I guess it’s been almost a full year of keeping up with this random square, and not much interesting has happened to it. Except, I guess it looks pretty when it snows.

So, early in the summer, I noticed a green plant growing out of it. I kept an eye on it from above for a few days. When my curiosity could stand it no longer, I ventured down there to investigate. The first thing I did was touch the leaves.

That was the only thing I had to do. I could tell immediately by smell that it was a tomato plant.

I mean, it makes sense that we’d get a volunteer tomato plant there; I do eat a fuck ton of tomato sandwiches.

The reason I could recognize the smell of the tomato plant is because I hate the smell of tomato leaves. It makes my shoulders do that shivery jitter thing every time I smell it.

I was STOKED to smell it this time, though. So, I watched my volunteer tomato plant grow. And then an actual tomato appeared:

Now, I should also mention that also I made many attempts to plant tomatoes traditionally this year.

Some I started indoors from seeds from a few different sources: seeds from the tomatoes from the Shoe Guy plants from last year, seeds from tomatoes from dinners we had at restaurants, and seeds from beefsteak tomatoes I ate at home on thick white bread.

I saved a lot of tomato seeds last year, y’all. I still have so many. It’s easy, though. The Shoe Guy told me how. You just put them on a napkin and fold them. Write the date and where you are when you do it, though.

These all did great for a while. Then one day I decided to water them with leftover coffee (wtf mate?) and most of them died.

Three didn’t. They lived and did so well that I could transplant them into my veggie garden in the back by the river. I even planted an old window frame halfway in the dirt for them to climb on.

Then one day, I came out, and all the leaves were eaten off. I was sad, but not too put out. We are still gardening only experimentally right now, learning a bit every year until one year, we will have perfected growing on this land.

The leaves grew back, and the tomato plants I grew from seed began to grow again. Then, I planted some seeds directly in the soil outside. They sprouted and started thriving right away.

Then, some random river or woodland creature did a drive-by-eating on the leaves again. Then, they grew back. Then, they got eaten. On repeat.

For weeks at a time, I would get hopeful that this time it would be different. They wouldn’t eat the leaves this time! This time, my tomatoes would thrive! But then I’d come out one day to another murder scene.

I still didn’t get too upset because I still had my trash tomato.

Well, at this point, it was trash tomatoES.

Talk about thriving; these fellas were it. They felt hefty in the palm of my hand, and I couldn’t wait to eat them.

Every morning, one of the first things I do is head over to the trash garden to take a pic of my trash tomatoes to send to Mickey at work.

I have no idea why I do this. He lives in the same place I do, so he can go see the trash tomatoes whenever he wants.

This was the last photo I sent him before tragedy struck:

What beauties, right?

Well, later that night, something told me to look over the railing into the trash garden.

I couldn’t see my big trash tomato!!!

It was dark out, so I turned on my flashlight and shined it down there.

I still didn’t see anything, so I walked down there in a panic.

Look. It’s not there! Just the sad, pale, petite guy.

I shined my light all around the trash garden, hoping it had just become too heavy for the vine and fell off.

It was nowhere to be found.

The next morning, I immediately went outside to examine the entire square and the ground surrounding it.

Something similar happened with the Shoe Guy tomatoes last year. I grew some tomatoes, and they got stolen away… Then, I found one half-eaten in the yard, and we salvaged the seeds.

One of the tomato plants that survived the coffee-ening this year came from those rescued seeds.

So, I was hoping to do the same with my big trash tomato.

No such luck.

So now my dilemma is…

Do I pick this guy way early so I have the seeds? Or do I let him go and hope I can eat him?

And why do I call tomatoes guys? Makes no sense.