Sometimes I don't know why I decided to take up growing tomatoes indoors, or for that matter anything to do with gardening. For Christ's sake, I'm already swamped with house work, taking care of the dog, cooking, helping dad in the shop school work (no offence) and building a writing career. Besides, agriculture corporations have vast greenhouse cities to grow tomatoes on mass far cheaper than I could ever dream. Yet on Oct 1st, of this year, I dug out six peat moss pots, purchased staring soil, and made the commitment to grow tomatoes indoors.
Soon I am going to need to fill twelve gallon bins with dirt, but the potting soil cost twelve dollars a cubic foot, so, to save money, I trudged up into the woods with a shovel and a wheel barrel to stock up on the best material I could find. I found dirt that was black with fertility around logs so decayed that I was able to brake them apart with my bare hands and squeeze the water out of them. This rotting material also went into the bins. I did all this in mid October so I would have the dirt before the ground froze, and got covered with snow. The bins now sit, waiting for growth, while my tomatoes rise out of their pots. Come January I hope to have tomato salads made delicious by my labour.