Well, it’s been quite awhile since I’ve added to our blog, which means I can add delinquent blogger to my list. But I have good reason! We’ve been busting at the seams over here at Lazar Landscape. Our roster is full of new and interesting landscape projects – and wonderful clients to go with them. I look forward to sharing as we move through the design phase – and into construction. There hasn’t been a dull moment all summer, and now here we are in fall – my favorite time of year!
In May I wrote about attempting to grow tomatoes in my San Francisco garden. As you know, I’m a delinquent gardener, so I didn’t really get around to planting my tomatoes until the middle of June. I planted a grafted cherry tomato, a regular cherry tomato, and an early girl in my recently acquired faux bois tree planter. They looked absolutely darling, and I liked the idea of growing a cherry tree. Get it – cherry tomatoes in a faux bois tree? A couple of weeks after that, I picked up a tomato cultivar called “Bloody Butcher.” I bought the bloody butcher a few days before I was scheduled to have foot surgery, and didn’t quite get around to planting it, but I did nestle it into my Meyer Lemon container hoping it might get some water. Then I had my surgery, which was a lot more debilitating than I had lead myself to believe. That combined with one of the gloomiest summers I can remember in San Francisco, and a tremendous influx of really fun and challenging projects here at Lazar Landscape, and I reverted to my most delinquent garden state yet. Who wants to hobble down two flights of stairs to water and tend to tomatoes that would never fruit? Certainly not this delinquent gardener.
So imagine my surprise when I finally made my way down to that garden, expecting the worst, to find cherry tomato vines in full production – literally bursting with shiny red fruit. The plants themselves look like h-e-double-toothpicks from lack of regular water, but the fruit provides mouthfuls of firm and sweet and sun-warmed goodness. The bloody butcher sent its roots through its four-inch container walls down into the fertile soil where my Meyer Lemon grows – and it too is loaded with, as yet, unripened, but beautiful fruit. I hope our warm autumn weather holds to see if these beauties will ripen.
I love it when an experiment is successful, and I’m looking forward to next season. I’ll start a little earlier, and try to be a little less delinquent. And now when people ask me, I can tell them you really can grow great tomatoes in San Francisco without even trying.