The Summer of the Volunteer Tomato

In February, I ordered my tomato seeds, for I determined that this was the year for me to start all of my own tomato plants! I would save money and grow delicious heirloom varieties destined for canning jars or tomato sauce. On April 1, assembly of the grow lights and planting of the seeds into pots commenced. Two months later, after a cool and wet spring, my tomato plants, which had happily germinated, resembled nothing more than sulky teenagers. Oh, they were there all right, but they weren’t growing nor showing any signs of acceding to my pleas, tender ministrations, or outright verbal assaults.

My idyllic visions of the yield from my tomato seedlings…Wm. Henry Maule (Firm). 1887. MAULE’S SEED CATALOGUE FOR 1887 – FREE TO ALL, PHILADELPHIA PA. Smithsonian Libraries and Archives, Image ID: SIL-SIL08-17221-a-000002

All the cajoling in the world wasn’t going to help. I gnashed my teeth in frustration – I’ve started many seeds before and never experienced such trauma or failure to thrive.

Seedlings that refuse to grow up.

I narrowed  the explanations for my epic failure down to the temperature. I don’t think they ever got warm enough, and indeed, warm weather has evaded us thus far this growing season.

Some of the tomato bounty from August 2024.

My sister, whose tomato seedlings luxuriated on a heating pad, gifted me with four seedlings. Our local greenhouse didn’t open this year, much to my dismay, for they carried the old standby, Rutgers, introduced in 1934. This open-pollinated variety was developed at Rutgers University in New Jersey, but the first cross that led to its introduction occurred in 1928, by none other  than the Campbell Soup Company.

The popularity of this delicious tomato declined with the adoption of mechanized harvesting, but I grew up eating Rutgers tomatoes, and I enjoy them now for eating and canning.

Historic tomato soup ad from the Library of Congress. Campbell’s Tomato Soup. , None. [United states: publisher not identified, between 1920 and 1930] Photograph. https://www.loc.gov/item/2014646782/.

Sensing my distress (he’s not deaf), my long-suffering husband brought home another four seedlings from the wonderful oasis that is Wilson’s Nursery in Frankfort. Somewhat pacified, I quickly planted them, but even this did not safe my tomato frenzy. How could I achieve all of my home processing dreams with only 8 – no, make that 12 (I might have picked four more up at the Wilson’s location in Lexington) tomato plants?

The blessing of the volunteer tomatoes!

The answer arrived (of course) in an unexpected fashion, as I was preparing two of our raised beds for beans and cucumbers. During my destruction of the weeds, I noticed…1 – then 2 – then a whole host of very healthy young tomato plants, the offspring of my 2024 tomato crop.

I promptly dug them up and transplanted them. I have no idea what variety they may be (hopefully not all cherry tomatoes), but I rescued six of the strongest and most vigorous plants.

Socks the cat in the Rose-of-Sharon.

Quite pleased with myself, I headed back into the house, but paused in an effort to determine where my smallest farm and garden cat had gotten himself to, for I could hear him, but not see him.

Perched in the Rose-of-Sharon near the back door, the spoiled feline dropped to the ground and sat down…right beside a 16-inch high volunteer tomato plant under the shrub. I’m going to wait until tonight to transplant that one…