phenology: The first couple of years after we moved to the neighborhood in 1993, we grew explosive, fantastic tomato crops. But in later years, they became increasingly disappointing. It was like a slot machine calibrated to pay off early and get you hooked, then suck the quarters out of you. I love fresh tomatoes in my morning omelette, but the pain and disappointment became too great, so the last few years we haven’t planted any. But this year, Lissa stuck one of those yellow pear tomatoes out front. And this morning, I’m having tomatoes with my omelette. First of the year. Yum.
music: Another podgoober discovery is the way music podcasts can be very much like a really smart and interesting DJ on the local college station, playing a bunch of music you’ve never heard before. My two current favorites: Roots Rock Radio and The Roadhouse.
cycling: If you pick up the latest Mountain Flyer cycling magazine, you’ll find a short little bit of business by yours truly in the back. I’m a published author! Woot!
word of the day: opt – a strange little word, charmingly compact, but so underpowered that you pretty much always need to tack on a preposition for it to do useful work
Sounds like the way tomatoes change over a few years in the presence of fusarium blight, which builds up in the soil if you’re not very, very careful about removing leaves that show blighting so they don’t get into the soil to infect the next year’s plants. Just guessing on little information obviously.
I think you’re right. That’s been my amateur diagnosis in the past, and I’m too much of a lazy gardener to do the work necessary to deal with the problem, I guess.
I agree with Hank** that it is some sort of critter in the soil. Plant your tomatoes in a new location next year & see what happens. Every 2-3 years move them to a new location & rest that soil for a few years. I’m just getting the first cherry tomatoes, which is early for Puget Sound.
**I agree with Hank a lot. I’m glad he is spending time trying to get correct information out there.