The $64 Tomato by William Alexander
Gardening with Gusto
The $64 Tomato by William Alexander is a humorous account of a
gardener battling to start and maintain a whopping, über-sized 2,000 square
foot kitchen garden! For a professional
man and his physician wife to even strive for such a large garden in their
spare time is either insane or they have to have a good sense of humor. Well, he definitely had a good sense of humor—this
book was funny. About being insane, I’m
not qualified to comment.
In this book William Alexander calls gardening a “blood
sport” for a good reason. He battled everything from clay soil, to garden
designers, landscapers, weeds, numerous bug infestations, squirrels, and even
groundhogs, or more specifically “Superchuck.”
One of the most amusing episodes was his battle with Superchuck. Superchuck was woodchuck, aka groundhog, who
somehow bypassed the electric fence to sneak into the kitchen garden and took
bites out of prized Brandywine tomatoes. And in his super arrogance, he didn’t
just take a couple tomatoes and devour them. No, he took one bite out of a
whole handful of tomatoes each time he magically worked his way through the
10,000-volt deterrence. What followed
was battle of wits. You’ll have to read
it to see who officially won.
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I know all about thieves who steal the fruits and vegetables
you so lovingly pamper. It doesn’t feel
good to be duped like that. For three years I had coddled my French prune plum
tree. I had bought it from a nursery and
couldn’t wait to taste those juicy flavorful plums. The first year, obviously there would be
none. That was understood. The second spring I saw three or four hopeful
flower buds, but nothing came of them.
The third spring I spotted a whole load of buds and to my great elation,
five of them eventually budded into real-live plums. At first they looked like little
capers, then
they became olive sized. Each day I
would wander out to look at my bounty in great anticipation. I was looking forward to making my
grandmother's plum jam or this wonderful plum tort. I know that
wasn’t going to happen with five plums but it was an exciting start. It was the whole reason I bought that plum
tree. My grandma’s jam is the best thing
this side of heaven. I have made it with store-bought plums and my mom and
stepdad have even fought over their portion of it. It’s that good!
I knew the time was getting closer and closer to picking the
plums, and I was getting more and more excited. So the day I went out to
harvest my crop was the day I lost a little faith in humanity. My five plums were gone! Gone, baby,
gone! Not one of them was left. One of
those nasty pests of the two-legged variety had stolen my plums. Footprints
proved it. I was devastated. My husband
wasn’t happy either. But being logical,
he said, “Well, that’s bound to happen since the tree is planted in the alley,
not our yard.”
That’s right. I
confess, I had made a nice little planter behind
my fence. My sister laughs at me and my alley planter. She calls it the back-forty. I call it a gift of nature. A gift to me and my neighbors. When we moved
from our large house on six acres to a small lot in town, I had lost a lot of
gardening space. In the new house, I was
very limited. Planting in the alley seemed like a good solution. It was a win/win situation. The apartment building behind us got a nice
little garden to look at, and we gained more space and privacy. The trees helped block the prying eyes of those
apartment dwellers. But I can’t help
wondering if it was one of those dwellers who spotted, coveted, and then stole
my plums.
Happy reading,
Annette
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