Unfortunately, as soon as the weather gets hot, I have also been genetically programmed to abandon such plants to the Forces of Nature That Be while taking my flaccid, overweight body into the cool realms of the air-conditioned house for the remainder of the season.
Momma don't do hot.
And so, for this and many other reasons, this year my "garden" consists of four lonely tomato plants I have deposited into the front flower bed. If I had a flower bed in the back yard I would put them there, but (1) I don't, and (2) since I rarely go into the back yard (see "Momma don't do hot" above) (3) the poor plants would like as not perish from neglect and/or have the fruit torn from their fleshy vines by varmints without anyone giving a flying fig.
As I have planted them in the front bed for All To See, I most certainly DO give a flying fig about their well-being and future growth. However, being as I've done this before and realized nary a single tomato from even the healthiest of vines, new tactics will be used this year.
You see, my sworn enemies, the Squirrel Fiends, have decided that all of my tomatoes are grown not for my edification and nutrition purposes, but for THEIRS. To try to convince them otherwise I have employed the use of peppermint oil on sticks stuck into the ground along with other useless methods of deterrence. All proved much less than effective.
This year, however, I may have hit upon the solution. There are tentative squeals of joy in my announcement, somewhat akin to your typical thirteen-year-old girl.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I announce The Scarecrow!
I had a credit on my Amazon account leftover from Christmas, so I used it to purchase this device. I'm hoping it works as well as the 289 people who praised it said it did. If so, we may actually have some tomatoes this year.
And I may actually branch out to the back yard next year.