They’re out of control, these tomato plants. One in particular seems to be racing its neighbor the sunflower for some type of height prize. “Tomatoes don’t need to be tall,” I tell her, but she continues to strive.
The creepy-crawly beans aren’t helping. They reach out their long curlicue tendrils, grab onto tomato plant arms, and pull, creating a gnarly mass of vegetation.
I decided to impose some kind of order on this insane display of nature. First stop: Home Depot. Except somebody seemed to have shown up minutes before me and bought every type of tomato staking/caging thing except for two kind of bent ones.
I bought the bent ones, and considered trying another store, but my will to shop wilted from the lack of air conditioning in my car and the 90 degree heat (at 8:45 am!). I just took my rickety-ass tomato cages home and tried to figure something out.
I wrestled the big gal, pushed her, pulled her, trying to fit her into the cage before it completely broke. But she was just not made to be fenced in. So, after a highly laughable (and unphotographed, thank god) attempt at making a larger cage out of string and stakes (and my schneid), I just settled on a kind of U-shaped half cage.
So there they are, the big girls are somewhat caged, the little ones staked, and everybody more or less happy.
My next nemesis: the mysterious Mr. Pumpkin, who we did not plant, and who has nevertheless eaten all our cilantro and is headed dangerously close to the chives. That’s right, Mr. Pumpkin, I’m coming for you. Watch out.