The problem?

They’re a month late. Already.

Last year, we had builders working on the garage. As one of them tucked into his lunch, he said, with the smugness of all home growers, “These are my first tomatoes of the season!”.

I don’t remember exactly when this was. But I remember that at the time, my tomatoes were barely a foot tall, and weren’t in sight of their first flower, let alone thinking of fruiting.

I mumbled something about a cold micro-climate. But I knew that my plants were late because I’d made them so.

Planted the seeds late. Transplanted the seedlings into pots late. Potted them on into bigger pots late.

And I vowed that this year I’d be earlier. I would have my seeds in the propagator on 1st February.

So they’re a month late. Already.

I’m hoping they’ll catch up, with a bit of care and attention, and maybe even some sunshine. Eight new (to me) varieties, partly for the fun of it, and partly to help guard against the blight which, well, blights my toms every year here.

I’ll keep you informed. If nothing else, surely I can beat last year’s eventual crop of something like 20 tomatoes. From 20 plants.

I don’t think you can be a gardener without being an optimist.