Reaping the Harvest, Not so Much the Bounty

So right now I’m enjoying my grape tomatoes. Wonderfully delicious grape tomatoes that I can chop up in scrambled eggs, tacos, casseroles, salads and whatever.  If you saw these grape tomatoes, your jealousiter would quickly ding to 100, you’d be so envious.

That's right, you know you want some tomatoey goodness...

I’m REALLY enjoying them, you see, because that’s about all I got.

My Heirlooms are either taking a lot longer, or aren’t going to happen.  I didn’t have adequate support for them either, because I kept putting off buying a wire tree, and I when I remembered, I was then too lazy.  Once again, I’m my own worst enemy.  Someday, Lazy GamerGirl, we will throw down.

And yet again, my Roma tomatoes got what I’ve decided to call brown-bottom rot because it’s kind of funny.  I had the same problem last year, don’t know what causes it, and rather than research it and, y’know, learn, I’m just going to throw in the towel on Roma tomatoes from now on.

Lettuce?  Slugs.  Also, I think I planted the heads too close.  Garlic?  Apparently that never had a chance.  See, I took the fact that it was being sold in May to mean that it was in season and plantable and had even a remote chance of maturing.  Apparently not.  Someday, Bi-Mart, we will throw down.

The green bean plant chugged along just fine, thank you.  I enjoyed several rounds of beany goodness and then one day, the leaves went yellow and it started producing piss-poor yellow lumps of withered wannabeans.  I did research this issue, but found mostly taunting language about how hardy these plants are and that I’d become so sick of eating beans due to the plant’s high production volume that I’d be forced to give them away like so much zucchini.  Oh yeah?  Well, fuck you, Internet.

Pictured: Abject failure

The cilantro died after one production cycle, the rosemary is still hanging in there but seriously, how often does one use rosemary, and I’m on my third basil plant.

What’s made this all the more comical in a crying-on-the-inside kind of way is that my neighbors’ garden is just over the fence, directly behind my planter boxes.  If I peek through in my least stalker-like fashion, I can see three healthy tomato plants, lucious heads of lettuce and other vegetables I didn’t even know existed.  I’d pop my camera over the fence to take a picture so that you could see this lovely machination that puts my little operation to shame, but I don’t want the local authorities to come visit.  Again.

So for this growing season, it’s just me and my grape tomatoes.  Stupid nature.