The Beginnings of a Suburban Tomato Jungle

The Brandywine, Beefsteak and Juliet tomatoes I've been incubating in my basement on a homemade plant light shelf have grown so large their leaves are nearly brushing the fluorescent light; I'm going to have to adjust one of the shelves down to make room.



Three of these plants will go into my own home garden. Considering that in the past two summers I've grown tomatoes at this house, my plants have consistently passed the six foot mark before being weighed down with fruit, I won't really have room for more than three.

My first impenetrable tomato jungle grew so big I felt compelled to name it:
Attack of the Killer Tomatoes.

The surplus plants will be going to my neighbors, for free, with growing instructions. Three households near mine have already claimed a plant.

I figure, give a neighbor a tomato, and she'll eat salad for a day. Teach a neighbor to grow tomatoes, and within a year or two, she'll be trying to pawn her extra zucchini off on you, and you'll just have to start taking your own surplus fresh veggies to the food pantry. Which would not be a bad thing.

Do you have extra plants this year, from seedlings you started, or a flat you bought on sale? Before you try to find a place to cram them into your garden, compost them, or, ahem, leave them to languish next to the garage while you rather guiltily avoid looking at them because you can't bear to throw them out and yet cannot think of what to do with them, check and see whether any of your neighbors who don't currently garden might be willing to try growing a bit of fresh produce if they were given a plant and some basic gardening advice for free.

After all, it's hard to turn down free food.