April 21, 2012
by: Diane Rivard
Just 6 weeks ago, I planted some tomato seeds for dad’s hoop house project. I was a little apprehensive at first because I had the expectations of growing something for someone else. No, not just anybody, it was my dad, a man, a farmer with years of experience. I knew I had to get it right.
I’ve grown tomatoes from seed many times before but this time was different. The seeds were started in oasis cubes. After nine days I need to fertilize them because the nutrients in the cubes ran out, then 2 weeks after sprouting they were turned on their side so they could grow a stronger root system. So many things to think about.
Everyday, twice a day, I climbed the ladder to the loft’s attic garden under the 6 x 6 sky window to check on my little tomato babies. I made sure they had enough water, they were rotated so they got even light exposure, and brushes my hands over the tops of them to help strengthen the stems. I could almost see them growing before my eyes. At four weeks old, they were transplant into peat pots and fertilized with fish fertilizer.
As they grew, I had to move them apart from each other so the leaves would not shade its neighbor.
Then three days ago, dad said he was ready to accept his tomatoes. Oh boy, did I think they were ready to leave home…so soon? I put 12 Clermon and 12 Geronimo’s in trays and carried them down the ladder on my right shoulder. I brought them out to the garage and set them up with an oscillating fan.
The move to the garage would get them ready for cooler temperature (nighttime temps of 60 degrees) and the fan got them ready for the stiff breeze that would no doubt blow through the hoop house.
This morning, I loaded the tomatoes into the car and drove them down to the farm. It was a bittersweet moment when I sprang the trunk and my tomato babies got their first taste of pure sunshine at their new home. Dad walked out of his hoop house with a smile and said, “What do we have here?”
“Your tomato graduates!”, I said
We carried the trays into the hoop house. It was a comfortable 78 degrees. Together, dad and I put two tomato plants, peat pot and all, into a five gallon grow bag half-full with bark mulch, we added more mulch to the bag, filling in around the sides of the pots and over the tops.
We talked about keeping them warm at night, a few nights a 60 degrees, then lowered a few degrees each night down to 55 degrees. My motherly instinct was working, I guess. Dad assured me that he planned to cover them with a low tunnel and use a quartz heat for supplemental night-time heat.
I gave dad a hug and said, “Take good care of my babies. I guess they’re not babies any more, they’ve graduated!”