I thought I would write a quick blog about my significant others, my tomato plants. I currently have 12, I have been growing some of these since before Christmas and so far I have harvested zero tomatoes. I have hundreds of green tomatoes on the plants, I am expecting all of these to turn red within a couple of days of one another resulting in me and my faltmates eating tomatoes until we fart our pants red and ending up with some kind of Spanish style rotten tomato fight in the kitchen.

Last night I spent nearly four hours tending to them, repotting, propping and tying up their over laden bows; kissing them, wispering sweet nothings etc. My flatmate pointed out that with the amount of money I can earn in four hours I could probably buy several hundred tomatoes and cut out the seven month waiting period.

Of course he is correct. I would also cut out the heart ache every time one of them breaks a leaf, or goes slightly yellow/brown/purple, the strange smell, (the smell given off by the plants is not the same as the fruit) the fact that I can't leave the house for more than a day without leaving complicated watering instructions; and having to call several times to remind my faltmates to do it.

So why; I needed a hobby I think. I got old enough to need something more trivial to worry about. Its a fallacy to say that gardening is a stress reliever, it provides other stresses and problems, its just these are surmountable and once you have risen to the challenge you are rewarded with your very own tomato fiesta to celebrate your achievements and other people say; I wish I could grow my own veg and admire you.

You even provide yourself with problems lots of gardeners are organic! I have very limited tools or equipment, last night I whittled a stake out of a solid beach pole with my axe. (well I split it in half and hammered it into the ground anyway, a very sturdy and inovative alternative to the traditiona bamboo cane)

P.S. One other benefit; it gets you out the house and away from your significant other/domestic strife(you've seen the number of old men that hang out at allotments right, that’s what 40 years of marriage does to you) well my significant other managed one better and went to Greece, well I still have my Toms.