Disposing of the Fruits of My Labor

Dahlia, Autumn 2019 (Margo D. Beller)

As I sit on my enclosed porch, the weather is most definitely autumnal. I am in my warmest robe. The windows are closed. A feeder has drawn cardinals. The sun's arc is shorter and it doesn't rise as high in the sky. Days are most decidedly shorter.

And in the corner are four pots of vegetables continuing to grow.

Every year around this time I begin the slow task of closing the garden and getting the house ready for winter. I wait for as long as possible before bringing indoors the houseplants I've put on the porch for the summer because they are going to get more humidity outside than in, especially once I start using the furnace. This year I made it until the beginning of October when the projected overnight low one night would be 37 degrees F. My porch would've kept the plants a degree or two warmer but since many of them are tropicals they had to be brought in.

The pots of cannas and dahlias in front behind the deer netting are staying put for now. The dahlias are autumn flowers, just starting to bloom. The cannas' leaves still look fresh although what flowers they had are long since done. Once frost hits and the foliage goes brown I can cut it off and put the pots in the garage, while I pull up the dahlias and store the bulbs, wrapped in newspaper, in a box nearby.

Tomato plant, still bearing fruit (Margo D. Beller)

That leaves the vegetables. Most people, if they grow vegetables, seem to harvest what they can and leave the rest to rot. I've seen this in my town's community garden. I've walked there after a frost and found many tomatoes still on the vine until the plot holder makes it there to rip out the plants. (One of those holders allowed me access once and now I know what a frozen tomato looks and feels like.)

I, however, grow vegetables in pots. Usually I have anywhere from two to five pots of peppers and one of basil. The basil is used up first, long before the first frost. But if the peppers are covered with flowers (connoting the fruit to come), I bring them indoors for the winter.

Things are different this year.

Two autumns ago, I found a tomato seedling near my compost pile. I potted it and it grew into a tree that was difficult to keep upright. Just as it was about to put out fruit, it became infested with white flies that also affected the nearby peppers and my houseplants. Out went the tomato and the peppers, the former into the front yard where, despite the sun, it died in the cold, the latter into the one corner of the enclosed porch where the sun shines the longest. (Each houseplant was examined and cleaned outside before coming back in.)

Peppers  and base of tomato plant; note the pepper flowers
(Margo D. Beller)

This year, I had two of the four peppers I had kept inside for the winter (two died and the other two were continually moved to rid them of white flies) plus a basil, a third type of pepper and a cherry tomato plant that also grew to be like a tree. All were in a protective cage but the deer soon discovered they could reach up and eat the upper parts of the tomato. Thus I covered the tomato and the cage in netting. The plants continued to give me vegetables and, as usual, seemed to get a second life late in the summer.

So once the houseplants were brought into the house, I transported the four pots to the porch where I continue to pick tomatoes even as more grow. Of the peppers, one has been a disappointment (the one decent pepper it produced wasn't particularly good), one is nearly done but the last is covered with flowers and growing fruit.

Tomato flowers and small, unripe fruit (Margo D. Beller

What is different this year is my attitude - none of these pots are going to be taken into the house. I am done with battling white flies. I am done with moving heavy pots. In the autumn of my life, there are more important things I must consider, such as my declining physical strength.

Next year I plan on following Thoreau's dictum of "simplify, simplify" and have one pot of peppers and one of basil. I'll leave the majority of vegetable growing to the farm markets.

When the really cold weather comes, which it inevitably will, I will pick what tomatoes and peppers I can use and leave the plants on the porch and let nature take its course. Then the plants will be pulled out and composted to feed the worms.