There is something strangely humbling about growing tomatoes.
You plant a tiny seed—or buy a small plant—full of confidence and optimism. You imagine yourself wandering into the garden a few weeks later, casually picking beautiful, perfectly ripe tomatoes straight from the vine. You imagine the taste: warm from the sun, sweet, juicy, and infinitely better than anything you could buy in a supermarket.
And then reality happens.
You wait.
And wait.
And wait some more.
And suddenly, you find yourself standing in front of the plant every single day, staring at hundreds of beautiful green tomatoes and thinking:
“Are you planning on ripening anytime soon?” 😂🍅
That is exactly where I am right now.
My tomato plants are absolutely covered in fruit. There are so many little green tomatoes that I have honestly lost count. There must be around 300 fruits growing across the plants, all hanging there proudly, looking healthy, and seemingly having absolutely no intention of turning red anytime soon. 🙈
And I know—I KNOW—I have to be patient.
I know tomatoes do not ripen just because I am standing beside them impatiently.
I know they need time.
I know the weather, temperature, sunlight, variety, and growing conditions all play a role.
I know that growing your own food is supposed to teach you patience.
But honestly?
The patience part is killing me. 🫠
Especially when I look around and see that my dad’s tomatoes are ripening as if it is the easiest thing in the world. They are turning red, getting picked, and being eaten while mine are still sitting there looking at me in every possible shade of green.
And I am not having it with the weather either. 😂
The plants are producing fruit. They are flowering. They are growing. They look healthy. There are tomatoes everywhere.
But when it comes to actually ripening?
Suddenly, everyone is taking their time.
Out of approximately 300 tomatoes, I currently have two that have started to turn slightly orange.
Two.
Just two.
After all this waiting. 🤯🙈
I keep checking them like they are a scientific experiment.
Every morning, I look at them.
Every afternoon, I look at them again.
And sometimes, I am almost certain that one of them has become a little bit more orange.
Then I check again later and realise that perhaps I was simply being optimistic. 😂
Maybe tomato ripening really does come with age.
Maybe these tomatoes are still young.
Maybe they need a little more life experience before they are ready to become fully ripe.
Perhaps one day they will wake up and think:
“You know what? I think I’m ready now.” 🤷♀️🍅
Until then, I am just trying to remain calm.
The funny thing about gardening is that you can do everything you are supposed to do and still have absolutely no control over the timeline.
You can plant the seeds.
You can prepare the soil.
You can water the plants.
You can support the stems.
You can remove unwanted growth.
You can watch the flowers appear.
You can celebrate every tiny green tomato.
And then, after doing all of that, you still have to wait for nature to decide when it is ready.
There is no shortcut.
There is no button you can press.
There is no way to politely ask the tomatoes to hurry up.
Believe me, I have tried. 😂
And yet, despite my impatience, I have to admit that watching the plants grow has been incredible.
A few months ago, these tomatoes were not there.
They started from something so small that it was easy to underestimate what they could become. Then came the leaves, the stems, the flowers, and eventually the first tiny fruits.
Now, the plants are full of tomatoes.
Hundreds of them.
Little green reminders that something is happening, even when it feels like nothing is happening at all.
And perhaps that is the hardest thing about gardening.
So much of the progress is invisible.
You do not see the roots growing underground.
You do not notice the plant becoming stronger every day.
You may not even notice the tomatoes getting bigger because the changes happen so gradually.
Then suddenly, you look at the plant and realise:
“Wait… when did there become so many tomatoes?” 🍅🌱
Of course, I still want to eat them.
That is the whole point, isn’t it?
I want to walk into the garden, pick a tomato straight from the vine, wash it, cut it open, and taste something that I have grown myself.
There is something so satisfying about eating food that has grown in your own garden.
It is not just a tomato anymore.
It is the result of all the watering, waiting, checking, worrying, and wondering whether the plant is actually going to produce anything.
It becomes a little reward.
A tiny celebration.
A reminder that sometimes, patience eventually pays off.
So, for now, I am watching.
Waiting.
Checking.
And trying very hard not to become emotionally attached to the two slightly orange tomatoes. 😂🙈
Because, honestly, after watching them for this long, I feel like I deserve to be there when they finally turn completely red.
I want to witness the transformation.
I want to see the moment when the green finally disappears.
I want to pick the first one and proudly announce:
“I grew a tomato!” 🍅🎉
And maybe, just maybe, it will taste absolutely amazing.
Or maybe it will be slightly disappointing.
Maybe it will be a little bit sour.
Maybe it will be too soft.
Maybe it will be the most delicious tomato I have ever eaten.
Who knows?
But I do know one thing: I will probably appreciate it more because I had to wait for it.
So, until then, I will continue to admire my enormous collection of green tomatoes and pretend that I am perfectly patient.
I will continue blaming the weather.
I will continue comparing my tomatoes to my dad’s tomatoes.
I will continue checking the same two slightly orange tomatoes multiple times a day.
And I will continue hoping that, one day soon, I will finally be able to walk into the garden and pick a ripe tomato that I can actually eat.
Because who knows?
Maybe one day I really will grow a tomato I can eat. 🫠🍅🌱
And when that day finally comes, I promise you, I will be celebrating like I have grown an entire vegetable garden from scratch. 😂❤️
For now, though, the waiting continues…
300 green tomatoes. 2 slightly orange ones. And one very impatient gardener. 🤯🙈🍅
Maybe ripening really does come with age after all. 🤷♀️🌱
