Tomatoes and a Shake

Earlier this year I gave Mother one of those Topsy Turvy tomato planters. Since everyone had told us it wouldn’t work we were determined to plant it just to see for ourselves.

I went to the fruit stand and bought her a small container of plants and just for fun I bought one for me. Mine were Roma tomatoes. I had this bright idea that I would plant them in a planter and have salad tomatoes all season.

Mom and I - with the help of Nathan and Thomas – put her planter on the back porch. On the ledge below the planter Mom had put a small container of sugar water so ants would be drawn to that and not her humming bird feeder, which I thought was pretty smart. In addition to the ants, bees were also drawn to the sugar water therefore when her blooms began coming on the tomato plants there were lots of bees to pollinate the plant. Long story short, the plant grew, buds blossomed, bees pollinated, green tomatoes grew into red ones and TA DA the Topsy Turvey is producing tomatoes for her lunch. Total success.

I, on the other hand, could have been another story were it not for the happenstance of a radio broadcast one early Saturday morning.

Everyone in my family knows I have a black thumb. Oh I can plant but I’m one of those folks who doesn’t tend. Stuff has to be pretty hardy to grow around our house. The last house plants I had were ones Mamaw gave me. They got watered every once in a while. When Sherry and the twins lived here she took care of them for me but once she was gone they died a sad and wilted death. (I’ve since reused the pots so onward and upward but that’s another story). Having said that, I don’t know what made me think I could grow tomatoes to fruition.

I’d tried to grow tomatoes before in the flower garden. It was disastrous. Every morning and every evening I had to pick off these fat green worms that were eating the plants to death and who finally ate holes in the tomatoes – gross. I said I’d never try that again. How soon we forget. Or maybe not so soon since that was well over 6 years ago.

So there I was full of enthusiasm planting my Roma plant in a planter on the screened in back porch. My thinking was if the plant was right outside the door I’d water it and take care of it. And if it was on the screened porch high above the ground no fat green worms could get to it. Sure enough, I was right - I watered, I watched, and I waited. Finally I had a beautiful tomato plant with little butter colored blooms. So I watered, I watched and I waited but I had no little green tomatoes. I waited some more and still no green tomatoes. I couldn’t figure it out. I was doing everything right – or so I thought.


The only time I listen to the radio is while I am in my car. Kicks 101.5 (Cadillac and Dallas) in the a.m. for my daily dose of country music and either WSB 750 (Sean Hannity) or WGST 640 (Dave Ramsey) in the p.m.

One of these a.m. stations was on when I hopped into my car one Saturday morning to run up to have coffee with Mom. As I listened during the short ¼ mile, 1 minute ride there was an agriculture call in show on. Turns out someone called in having the same issue with their tomato plants as I was. What are the odds ???? Of course I listened intently.

The host told the caller that the most likely reason he didn't have tomatoes was that pollination was not taking place. Even if a bee doesn’t land on a bloom their wings shake the blooms and pollination happens. The host suggested that the caller simulate that process by using a battery powered tooth brush and holding it close to the bloom. The vibration should do the trick.

That was a real “Well Duh !!!” moment for me. Since my porch was screened in no bees could get to my plant. No bees, no vibration. No vibration, no pollination. No pollination, no tomatoes.

Now remember, I have a black thumb so the thought of watching for blooms, running to get the toothbrush and carefully holding it near the bloom while it “did it’s business” is just too labor intensive for me. Solution? I just shook the darn thing. When I saw a new bloom I’d grab the plant somewhere – didn’t matter where – and give it a little shake. In no time flat I started seeing little green tomatoes.

Today I have 2 small Roma tomatoes to have with my lunch, grown with my own black thumb and assisted by a little shake or two.