Ruthless

Hello foodies,

It has been a quiet couple of weeks, blog-wise.  I was away for a week, and have family visiting this week, so there hasn't been a lot of time to be at the computer writing.

I returned to Ottawa, mother and niece in tow, to find The Beast was beastlier then ever.  Massive.  A dense green world of its own, impenetrable by the ripening rays of the sun.  Tonnes of tomatoes, but well into the second half of August, nary a hint of red.  Goldilocks also has many fruit, none of them ripe, and finally, FINALLY, Tiny has a few flowers, though I am sceptical that they will mature at this late date. 

Already the Ottawa nights are cooler.  Temperatures have been as low as 8 degrees.  I worried that these robust plants will not be able to cross the finish line, but I was not sure what to do.  Being a novice grower, I was reluctant to try pruning, though I have read that removing non-producing branches can help the plant to put all its energy into finishing the fruit on the vine.  Where pruning is concerned, I was not certain how aggressive to be.

Today, I got my answer.  We went to Upper Canada Village.  I have always been a pioneer junkie, reading and re-reading Laura Ingalls Wilder's series.  To this day, I still go through it every couple of years.  Wandering around the historic village, admiring the kitchen gardens, I saw all of the heirloom tomato plants had been staked up and ruthlessly pruned.  A little tuft of green leaves at the top, and massive ripening fruit along the naked stalk.  These beauties had all been pruned early, aggressively and often.  Obviously, it is too late to accomplish quite the same result, but these obviously industrious plants gave me the courage to go home and attack The Beast with my garden shears.

To remind you, this is the beast about a month ago:

This picture no longer did The Beast justice.  She had gained a little in height and much in girth and density, but still, the picture gives you an idea.

And here she is now:

 

As you can see, I have quite a lot of fruit.  And this is just one plant.  There are another 20 or so tomatoes on Goldilocks as well.  She, too, lost some branches today, thought not as aggressively.  She wasn't quite as overgrown, and the trellises I used as stakes are harder to work around.

So, this tomato season has been a learning experience.  I know better what to do next year.  Proper stakes. Regular, aggressive pruning.  Two plants only.  If Tiny were producing prodigiously, I can't imagine how many fruits I'd have.