Gardeners' Holidays 2020: Tomatofest

Today marks the midpoint of summer. The summer heat is at its blazing height, and looking ahead, we can just glimpse the relief of fall and its shorter, cooler days in the distance. And, in a normal year, this would also mark the high point of squash season, when gardeners are rolling in so much zucchini we're beginning to think about sneaking some onto the neighbor's porch.

But sadly, that's not the case this year. Despite our efforts to keep them at bay by covering the stems in dirt, the dastardly squash vine borers invaded both our two zucchini plants earlier than ever, killing one outright and eviscerating the other. We've harvested a total of one measly squash off both plants all summer, and that's all we're likely to get. (Brian suggested relocating next year's zucchini plants out of the fenced garden entirely and into the "burn ward" he set up next to the house for our extra seedlings, but I couldn't see how that would help; the adult borers lay their eggs on the plants after descending on them from above, and they can surely do that just as easily no matter where the plants are. And even if the plants survived, the groundhogs would be liable to eat all the squash in the unfenced area before we get a chance to pick them. I think Bt spray is likely to do more good.)

Last year, we celebrated this gardeners' holiday as Plumfest, but alas, this year that's not on the cards either. Even though Brian has been diligently spraying the trees with copper fungicide every week since they blossomed, basically all of the Opal and Mount Royal plums still dropped prematurely. Most of the Golden Gages survived, but squirrels started spiriting them away well before they were ripe enough for us to pick. We tried discouraging them with shiny CDs (which are supposed to produce unpredictable glints they find disturbing) and our own hair, but to no avail. When Brian checked the trees this morning, he found that every last plum was gone. So next year, we'll have to return to our full Plum Protection Plan — rigorous pruning, regular spraying, wrapping the biggest branches in collars smeared with Tree Tanglefoot, and picking the plums as soon as they have even a hint of color to ripen them indoors.

Even our Provider green beans have been failing to live up to their name this year. Where last year's plants produced nearly five pounds of beans in total, this year we got a little over one before the supply petered out entirely. And worse, we have no idea what caused the problem, unless the unusually hot weather is somehow to blame — so we have no idea how to prevent it next year.

But fortunately, there's one summer crop we have absolutely no shortage of. Our Sun Gold tomato plants have, as usual, been producing in abundance; they've given us a total of 180 tiny tomatoes already and show no signs of slowing down. Our Premio tomatoes have proved to be reliable producers, too; though not as prolific as the Sun Golds, they've yielded 17 smallish tomatoes so far, with more on the way.

We've already enjoyed our first Pasta a la Caprese of the season (as our anniversary dinner and the prelude to our anniversary cake), so for tonight's tomato celebration, we went for roasted tomato spaghetti. The basil was also home-grown, as that's another crop that seems to be thriving despite the heat. And, looking to the future, our later-season tomatoes (the big Pineapples and the new Opalka paste tomatoes) are also looking quite healthy, as are the peppers and winter squash. So there's reason to hope the next two gardeners' holidays will give us more cause for celebration than this one.