This is the second summer Bill and I have tried to grow a little garden on our balcony. Our first little garden was sparse and probably only resulted in 10 or 12 tomatoes. Our basil bolted quickly, and the chives overgrew everything. It was a mess, but it was a pretty, fun, green mess.

This year, things have been a bit better. I still operate with a strict policy of benign neglect toward my plants, as I told a friend yesterday. They get watered every other day, most of the time, which is amazing. They get coffee grounds as psuedo-mulch about once a week. And, to be honest, my plants all seem very happy and green and not messy. Sorta. We’ll ignore that two of my tomato plants seem to have decided to use the third for support.

However, as I said, my plants are very green. Which, for the thymes and mint, is great. For the tomatoes, though, it only seems great. In reality, I might wish they were a little yellower. How do I know? Well, of my three tomato plants, the yellowest one is producing the best. I’ve probably gotten five or so tomatoes off of it already, with evidence of more to come. The greenest one has decided that reproducing is for the birds, and isn’t even trying to fruit. The one in between? It’s produced two tomatoes, and seems to be considering a third.

Of course, the problem is that the plant produces tomatoes this big.

Yup. That’s a “Sweet Pea” tomato, folks. So named because it’s tomatoes are the size of peas. Bill and I thought they’d be tasty, fun, good and ripen quickly. We were totally right. We just didn’t consider if it’d produce many tomatoes before we bought it and planted it…

I swear, that plant’s lucky I love having green things out there. It and it’s non-producing buddy would be LONG GONE otherwise. Maybe. I mean, does that violate a policy of benign neglect?