I’ve recorded 111° F in the backyard garden – or rather, former garden. Here’s what it looks like a couple of days ago (first photo in gallery):
“Tomato Patch”, East CarbonTypical Tomato PlantDry soil after plant removalA bit of rain, finallyTomato Bed in FerronTomato Bed in Mayfield
I’m growing tomato plants for seed production in four locations in three counties. Two of these locations are in Price. About 75% of tomato vines, among over 300 total look like the second tomato vine in the above photo gallery — or even worse. The third photo shows what the planting hole looks like after removing a dead tomato plant: dry, dry, dry at the root zone, despite water for an inch or more every day. That heavy, dense, salty, alkaline clay seems to form an almost impenetrable barrier to water; and the high winds, high temperatures, and intense sunlight cause the water to evaporate before it even has a chance to soak in.
The photo of the rain gauge shows about the extent of the rain for the month of July. The Southwest Monsoons have finally moved in, but showers are few, far between, and spotty.
The last two photos are of tomato beds in Ferron and Mayfield. Tomato plants are growing and producing well, with very few losses since those in June.
What’s the difference between the gardens in Price and the other two locations? Breaking new ground in horrible soil with people who have never seriously gardened before and woefully inadequate soil prep — vs. LOTS of organic matter, built up over several years by very experienced gardeners.
We had a good visit with the Carbon County Agricultural Extension Agent on July 21st at one of the gardens in Price. Many changes need to be made. Two primary ones: 1) Plant a dense cover crop this Fall; and 2) add LOTS of organic matter, including much more alpaca manure, old straw, etc.
Check out this forecast:
If that looks like “Death”, you got half of the location name correct; Furnace Creek to be more precise. Not quite that hot here, but record highs likely this weekend. I worked in 110 to 114° F heat in the greenhouse in Mayfield for many hours over two days in early July. I suffered sever heat stress and almost couldn’t make the drive back to East Carbon. It took me 5 days to recover. A few more days of near heat exhaustion. Then last weekend, I was suffering from dehydration (likely Salmonella poisoning – you know what that does to the digestive system…), then worked for several hours in 100+ degree heat, which resulted in heat stroke, collapsing for hours, etc. etc. Still trying to recover from that. And yet (glutton for punishment), I am headed back to that same furnace of a greenhouse in Mayfield in a few hours. Can I even survive?
Perhaps it’s time to move, with my whole operation, to Alert on Ellesmere Island?
Most people learn their lessons the hard way: by making mistakes, remembering the consequences, then trying to change their behavior when a similar situation arises in the future.
Wise people learn their lessons from the mistakes of others: by reading, learning, conversations, etc.
Fools don’t learn lessons.
Case in point: Is putting lots of rancid, white, wheat flour on a raised bed a good idea to increase organic matter? There was some debate, but not enough before I tried this novel idea. To a raised bed that is 30′ X 6′, I added 25 gallons of rancid, white, wheat flour. It was tilled in, then about 60 tomato and pepper seedlings were transplanted into the bed, using the usual amendments, watering with drip irrigation, etc.
The soil got quite hot; apparently flour can generate a thermogenic effect. there was a layer of gray fungal spores after a week, and about 20 tomato plants were dead or nearly so.
Should I have known better? Yes! These days, it’s pretty easy to query the knowledge gained by thousands of years of humans learning by trial and error, and passing along those lessons to those alive at this moment.
QUESTION (which should have been asked before taking action):
What effect would adding one inch of rancid, bleached, white, white flour have on young tomato seedlings transplanted into a raised bed?
ANSWER (from Google AI:
Adding a one-inch layer of rancid, bleached white flour to your tomato seedlings will likely stunt their growth, rot their roots, or kill them entirely.
While flour is organic matter, using it this way creates severe physical and chemical problems for young plants.
MAJOR PROBLEMS CREATED BY FLOUR
Suffocation and Mold: Flour mixes with water to create a thick, glue-like paste. This paste dries into a hard crust that blocks oxygen from reaching the roots and prevents water from soaking into the soil. It also triggers massive mold growth.
Nitrogen Robbing: Soil bacteria will rush to break down the flour. To do this, they consume all the available nitrogen in the soil, leaving none for your tomato seedlings. This turns the leaves yellow and stops plant growth.
Pest Attraction: The smell of rancid flour will attract pests like ants, beetles, rodents, and fungus gnats directly to your new seedlings.
Chemical Additives: Bleached flour contains trace chemical residues from the bleaching process (like benzoyl peroxide or chlorine gas). While minor, these add unnecessary stress to sensitive young roots.
HOW TO FIX IT
If you already added the flour, you should act quickly to save your tomatoes:
Scrape it off: Carefully scoop away the layer of flour and the top layer of contaminated soil.
Break up the crust: Gently fluff the remaining soil around the seedlings so the roots can breathe.
Add compost: Replace the removed soil with fresh, healthy compost to restore nutrients.
“Normal” soil and organic matter added25 gallons of rancid, white wheat flour addedTomato seedlings dead or dyingAbout 35% mortalityPlants girdled at the level of the flourCloseup of destruction of tomato stem tissue
Other, even more serious mistakes made:
– Using a tried and true method of transplanting in one location (i.e., drilling planting holes with an auger, adding amendments, and blending in with the native soil) and ASSUMING it would work in another location just 16 miles away.
– Planting in new locations that have never been cultivated without first getting a soil sample tested, and without taking careful inventory of native vegetation, which would have provided essential clues.
– Excessively watering plants in soil suspected of being high in salinity with the hope of rinsing away the excessive salts; but without adequately considering that dense, heavy clay soil will utterly suffocate roots if too much water is applied.
Last plug tray of tomato seedlings – I did not have the time to pot them up a month earlier – but I should have anyhow! Not off to a good start.6″ holes drilled with augerPlanting holes filled with all kinds of good stuffHexagonal packing, 2′ between plants to accommodate internal emitters of drip hosesGround cherry plants do NOT thrive in dense, heavy, alkaline, salty clay soil!The healthiest among 500+ basil seedlings – this is exactly the WRONG kind of soil for basilCucumbers and other cucurbits are doing marginally well — not a surprise20 to 50% mortality of tomato seedlings, with ZERO plants thrivingA bit discouragingJust one among many varieties that will be listed as “Crop Failure, 2026”Drip hoses added, too little too late in many casesThe rush should have been to get this soil sample sent off, not to get everything planted ASAPHigh salinity, and unhealthy alkalinity; but the biggest mistake was TOO MUCH WATERING
Another mistake made: moving to a town in 2020 where the voters adore authoritarianism. That is, the city council and mayor think it’s just fine to try to force the only farmer in town (the poorest town in the state of Utah), who has donated thousands of dollars worth of seeds, seedlings, and fresh produce to the local community, to go out of business or (stubbornly, and perhaps foolishly) try to grow on the properties of friends and relatives who live from 30 to 150 minutes away… Resulting in $150+ spent each week on gasoline and spending 40+ hours each week on traveling and other tasks — massive costs which would not have been incurred had I been permitted to grow where I live in East Carbon. While the local overlords and their narrow-minded, short-sighted supporters sit back and gloat over their triumph over perhaps the hardest-working person in town.
So much turmoil has followed. Yes, drought conditions prevail in Utah. But people still need to eat; and the healthiest food is that which is grown naturally, picked fresh, and consumed within hours of harvesting. Millions of gallons of water are being used every day to water the state’s most abundant crop: ALFALFA. Don’t EVEN get me started…
Compare this tomato patch in 2026 to the same patch in prior year (see June blog posts). So dry – only field bindweed is still greenYanking up drip hoses and t-posts. I hate foxtail barley more than ever…Drip and supply hoses loaded up to take to other gardensOne lone tomato plant mollycoddled just behind the house, out of sight of the water NAZI’sOops, that was a bad idea as well. The deer ate all leaves, and the plant never recovered.
A prowler/trespasser caught on camera while I was away tending to other gardens. In this case, I don’t feel like I need this guy’s permission to post his face on the Internet! It was very obvious that nobody was at home when he came snooping around. Besides, he has been bothering and intimidating other people in town. I’ve not noticed signs of vandalism or burglary, but who knows. Shall I assign labels based upon my assumptions and prejudices?
Desolation and smoke, Emery countyFirefighting helicopter flew right overhead many timesOne smallish fire was burning within 5 miles of where we were workingMost clouds over the past few weeks have been generated by wildfires
Now for some more positive items.
One cooperating garden in Ferron (located 50 miles away as the crow flies, 65 minutes by road) has had a garden for years, with lots of organic matter added, especially in the form of alpaca manure. The owners are also very experienced gardeners. Tomato vines are doing fantastic there!
Young tomato vines in garden in Ferron
Alpacas manure is brown gold for gardeningTomatoes grown the proper way: lots of organic matter, etc.Pea blossom amidst almost desolationSwallowtail butterfly caught in flightMicro-dwarf tomato plants are doing just fine in potting mix; while those in the gardens with heavy clay soil are mostly dead or barely survivingReplacement plants are doing fine where 100% of native soil was removed (about 4 gallons worth) and potting mix, etc. added to the holesNear 10,000 feet elevation Huntington CanyonNear 10,000 feet elevation Huntington CanyonNear 10,000 feet elevation Huntington CanyonNear 10,000 feet elevation Huntington CanyonNear 10,000 feet elevation Huntington CanyonNear 10,000 feet elevation Huntington Canyon
I actually stopped at the top of the mountain for three hours to package seeds, hoping for some fresh air, cooler weather, and much better scenery than I usually get while packaging seeds.
Yes, I got distracted a bit. Extreme poverty has pretty well smashed that quaint “stop and smell the roses” concept out of my consciousness.
So far, in spring of 2026, my “Plant Mobile” seedling delivery service has cost $699.17 just for gasoline (I also had to get new tires, another $800). When I started this service in May of 2020, the average price for a gallon of regular gasoline was $2.32. Last time I filled up with gas, the price was $4.66 per gallon (doubled in 6 years), and the total cost was $102.32
Yet my seedlings prices (see Seedlings Tab on website) have remained unchanged since I first started offering seedlings in 2011 – yes, that was 15 years ago.
The price for a USPS (United States Postal Service) First-class stamp will rise to 82¢ cents on July 12, 2026. When I started mailing out seeds in 2011, the price was 44¢. Not quite doubled.
Yet my seed prices have remained unchanged in over 10 years, as have my prices for shipping (see Store Tab on website).
My hours of work devoted to keeping Delectation of Tomatoes afloat have increased to “virtually every waking moment”, while my hours of sleep have decreased to “the bare minimum needed to survive, while also avoiding a complete mental and physical breakdown”.
Piles of advice given (nearly all of it unsolicited) from multiple sources over the years, including:
RAISE YOUR PRICES — (a favorite bit of advice particularly from competitors) “Everyone else is doing it” “you deserve to relax a little and enjoy life”; etc.
I’m just not a “jump on the bandwagon sort of person”. And, I don’t “deserve” anything. My life could be snuffed out at any moment. Life is incomprehensibly rare in the universe; I am grateful for mine, and it serves no useful purpose to compare my standard of living to that of other people. [If you’re sensing a thread of Stoicism here, you’re on the right path]
ONLY OFFER SEEDS OF YOUR BEST-SELLING VARIETIES That would be 50 to 100 varieties — see blog post titled “Pareto Principle Revisited“ Does the world really need yet another seed seller for the very common varieties? At the other end of the spectrum, If I do not offer seed of “Izanag” (for example), who will?
HIRE PEOPLE TO HELP Yes indeed; been there, done that. I’ve hired more than 50 people over the years, all at hourly wages that are 5 to 20 times more than I earn per hour; and never once has the investment been close to a net positive when the numbers are crunched. Insights into this realm were discussed in the blog post, “Collections…
INVEST MORE TIME AND MONEY INTO MARKETING AND ADVERTISING What, and increase my work load even more? Are you crazy? Are you trying to drive me even more crazy? Besides, I despise being the target of marketing and advertising campaigns, so I cannot ethically engage in such practices. That’s why you will not see push advertisements from Delectation of Tomatoes; or at least they will not be generated or propagated by me! Word-of-mouth, reputation, good to excellent products and customer service – those seem to me to be the proper and ethical foundations for building a business. But, clearly, my brain is not wired for the world of business: I am a scientist by training, disposition, and 25-plus year career — specifically an endangered species biologist.
FARM OUT YOUR SEED PRODUCTION TO OTHER GROWERS “Everyone else does it” “Many gardeners will not even charge you money” Don’t EVEN get me started on this one…
My partial solution to these moral and financial dilemmas? Well, that falls in the realm of “Crowd Funding”, and is adequately covered at the Donate page on the website. And indeed, a growing number of people have been contributing extra to the cause – for which I am very grateful! It would bring almost any person with a modicum of empathy in their character to tears if they could read all of the encouraging words I have received over the past few years! Those positive comments are exactly the fuel that feeds my fire, my passion for what I am trying to do.
Of course there are naysayers, narcissists, narrow-minded and short-sighted people as well who try to beat me down or belittle my efforts. But those are few and far between, and I’m learning to sniff them out rather quickly and to employ strategies to not allow them to affect me too much (Stoicism again at play here) – a real challenge at times, as I am by nature, and always have been, an HSP (Highly Sensitive Person).
Enough of that thinking. Time for a few photos, shown in roughly chronological order during the month of May, 2026.
Local Overlords will not permit watering “houseplants” outdoors, and so…At times to dry, sometimes too wet63 of 64 Sweet 100 seeds from 2011 and 2012 germinated – when will I ever learn to ignore those who claim tomato seeds are no good after 5 years?Hardening off peppers under shade cloth, mostly out of site from the local water NAZI’sTomato seedlings under shade cloth in the backyard (to the local water NAZI’s: I only watered these when they were in the house!)Taking a risk, using a small section of low tunnel because there was no more room indoors (To the local overlords: THESE WERE ONLY WATERED INDOORS)A climate-controlled trailer would be niceSorting seedlings in Boulder, UtahScenic Byway 12 – Boulder is the best trip of the year, almost like a vacationView of the Henry Mountains from Boulder MountainSnow and frost in East Carbon on May 18thGetting ready to Transplant into a garden in Price (forbidden from growing in East Carbon – you can thank the local authoritarian overlords)Praying mantis nymphs emerging from an egg case kept indoors for two months.Heavy rain, thunderstorm, and some hail fell on May 26thMinor damage to seedlings by hail.A very late start on producing potato slips: this photo taken 14 days after placing two sweet potatoes in potting soil on a heating pad set at 86° F.Sorting tomato seedlings – 75% of these are extras, meaning they will almost certainly be discarded, as so few people purchase seedlings after the first week of May.
Major challenge: over 800 tomato seedlings are STILL in plug trays an needed to be potter up or (far better) transplanted directly into the garden at least 2-3 weeks ago.
For weeks on end, I have been feeling like a woefully incompetent one-man-band: have not figured out how to, for example, simultaneously:
1. Use my right foot for the gas and brake pedal as I am driving to a seedling drop-off location that is 200 miles away;
2. Use my left foot on a shovel, working from dawn to dusk digging holes for transplanting seedlings
3. Use my left hand for typing email responses on my computer while also researching and preparing labels
4. Use my right hand for potting up seedlings from plug trays to 3-1/2″ pots
5. Use my chest against the steering wheel while driving to keep the vehicle in my lane while returning from a seedling delivery trip
6. Use the right side of my mouth for chatting with people by phone and/or in person about gardening-related (or sometimes other) topics
7. Use the left side of my mouth for eating or especially drinking (several bouts of dehydration lately, as even drinking water is too time-consuming)
8. Use my right eye for watching the road while driving, while also watch my right hand package seeds and pot up seedlings at the same time
9. Use my left eye for sleeping, but not very much
10. Use sternocleidomastoid and suboccipital muscles for nodding (including off, on occasion)
11. Use my left ear for listening to college courses and podcasts while I drive
12. Use my right ear to take in date from the material world through which I am moving
13. Wiggle my toes to help me stay awake
My knowledge, skills, and abilities just are not up to this task, or rather these many tasks that “MUST” be done simultaneously (seems I have a lot to learn from Gladson Peters and others of his profession).
And yes, still trying to figure out how to create time ex nihilo; yet again, my intelligence falls far short of the task.
Alternate title: New Method Discovered for Germinating Tomato Seeds?
April 3, 2026: Over 350 batches of harvested tomatoes, plus 250 or so batches of melons, cucumber, peppers, eggplants, etc. were gathered and taken to the local landfill. These were batches harvested mostly in 2024, but some in 2023 and even 2022.
Dump truck loaned by East Carbon CityDiscarding over 1,000,000 tomato and other seeds from 2023 and 2024
Several batches, which had been sealed well in plastic bags, gave the appearance that perhaps the seeds inside rotten tomatoes might still be viable. I kept back three batches of “good” looking tomatoes to test out this possibility, however remote (unsatiable curiosity…).
Following are photos of one batch of Purple Bumblebee tomatoes that had been harvested on October 22, 2024. In January, 2025, I had sent this batch (along with about 500 others) home with someone I had hired to do this most tedious and unpleasant task of extracting seeds. Approximately half of those batches were returned, unfinished, more than two months later. I managed to get a few more batches completed. But March is peak season for filling seed orders and for planting seeds for my own garden.
I well remember that sickening feeling when I made the first of these two choices: plant seeds for the 2025 season and for scores of customers who pre-ordered seedlings; or, continue extracting seeds from tomatoes that were probably too far gone by now — and thus likely wasting my time, while also upsetting and likely losing customers.
These seeds were stored in bins in the open air, outside, untouched for more than a year. Yes, that means exposure to sunlight, high temperatures in the summer (up to 102° F or so), and many nights of freezing temperatures.
Seed extraction 533 days after harvestSafety gear, including an air purifier set on maximum next to sink; and yes, the stench was enough to make one vomit!I love tomatoes; however, even I have my limits…Seeds washed, rinsed, still wetDried seeds – looks like many of them might be viable?Closeup of dried tomato seeds, extracted 533 days after harvestAre tomato seeds still viable when extracted 1-1/2 years after harvest?
Results? Not final quite yet, as I like to give stubborn seeds up to three weeks to show whether they are capable of germinating or not. I planted 20 of these seeds on April 18th, and so far, after 12 days, not a single seed has shown any signs of life. Also in the same plug tray, I planted 31 other batches of seeds. To date, at least a couple of seeds of 29 of those other batches have germinated. Those other two batches with zero germination were both “last chance to rescue this variety” and “known to have zero or near-zero germination” from prior years of attempting to grow them.
So the answer is NO – seeds that have been sitting in tomatoes for 1-1/2 years, while suffering through all kinds of weather extremes and neglect, are NOT viable. But who knows — what if they had been kept refrigerated the entire time, and kept out of the sunlight? And who knows, it has been only 12 days. Perhaps after the plug tray is moved outside under direct sunlight and warmer temperatures… But, I am not going to hold my breath.
New Method Discovered for Germinating Tomato Seeds?
In late March, while frantically filling seed requests and digging through the semi-chaos of thousands of batches of tomato seeds, I was momentarily distracted by a variety that evoked a memory, “Oh, I need to grow that variety again this year!” So I stuck the bundle in the pocket of the pants I was wearing at the time, intending to add it into the “MUST GROW IN 2026” column in my databases/spreadsheets.
Well, considering how intense things have been over the past few months, and that I am quite absent-minded by nature, perhaps it should have come as no surprise that I discovered this oversight when hanging those pants out to dry, and finding an unexpected lump of damp stuff in one of the pockets. This was after going through a hot water wash cycle, with laundry detergent, plus the rinse cycle and spin cycles.
I was able, just barely, to make out that this bundle of soggy stuff was all of the seeds in my inventory of the variety Santa Clara Canner. The bundle included three batches: one was source seeds (“packaged for 2013”, so likely harvested sometime between 2010 and 2012), while the other two were batches of seeds that I grew and extracted in 2014. Thus, all of these seeds had been harvested more than 11-1/2 years earlier.
I estimated that there were about 40 seeds total that had gone through the laundry, but it was hard to determine. I made the decision to immediately plant all of them, thinking that if there was any viability left in the seeds, that life would be snuffed out if I tried to dry them out again. This was a last-chance to rescue this variety in my inventory. And I promptly added this notice to the Tomato Seeds Page on my main website:
Results of planting seeds that were basically 12+ years old and that went through a hot water (about 125°) laundry cycle? Intriguing:
Seeds after hot water laundry cycle, April 8th; all of this mess plantedSurprising germination after 9 daysMany more germinated after 11 daysGrowing strong after 19 daysScreaming to be separated and potted up after 22 days12- to 14+ year-old Santa Clara seeds after going through a full, hot-water laundry cycle
Obviously, my guess of “about 40 seeds” total was a significant underestimate, as I just counted 91 seedlings growing, about 5 of which appear to have germinated within the past couple of days. I sure wish I had the resources, especially the time, to pot up all of these and deliver nearly all of them to good homes! More likely, I will have to throw out at least 80 of these, as growing space is a premium this year.
Conclusion: Could a 30-minute treatment of hot water, laundry detergent, much agitation, rinsing, and high-speed spinning improve germination rates of “old” seeds? Well, I cannot definitively answer that question, as I had no control group (setting aside a portion of these seeds and planting them using my usual methods). Plus several other, very useful treatments were not made: washing in cold water; washing without detergent; washing with no agitation or spin cycle; soaking only in plain water; and various combinations of these alternate treatments.
What is abundantly clear is that 12-year old tomato seeds are NOT DEAD, and have the potential to germinate at very high rates! At least for some varieties, and for seeds that are stored in a high desert climate (i.e. very dry). This aligns well with the results of much more extensive seed germination tests conducted about a year ago:
Indoor sowing of seeds was begun on March 7th and completed on April 26th – a span of 7 weeks plus 1 day. The vast majority of these seeds were planted after April 11th; and it’s no coincidence that this coincides almost to the hour with the time that requests for seeds started to drop off dramatically. It’s like this every year; yet somehow, I still cannot manage to go without any sleep for two or three months straight so that I can get my own seeds planted in a timely manner, while also getting all seed orders filled and mailed out promptly.
Anyhow, the first of several trips related to my “Plant-mobile” delivery service was started on April 21st. At least 5 more trips are planned before the month of May is out. Details are published and will be kept updated at this webpage:
Perhaps the biggest snowstorm of the winter came on April 10th; the white was gone within a few hoursMeticulous seed planting in plug trays while at the computer — one tray takes up to 6 hours to locate, inspect, plant, record, then refile seeds.Some of the seeds pulled from inventory for plantingOne among 31 plug trays of seedlingsPotting up, started on 4-21, is now (April 30th) only 20% completed.Micro-dwarf tomato seedlings loaded and headed to a greenhouse 2-hours away for hardening offNew Walipini in Kanab, UtahThe Competition (is fierce…)
Still anxiously looking for: how to squeeze/compress 100 hours of productive and meaningful work into just 16 hours of wakefulness every day, 365 days every year. If I were only smart enough figure out how to bend the laws of physics to my will…
Alternate titles considered: The Idiot (ala Fyodor Dostoevsky): Motivations Found in Moral Philosophy Narcissists: Are They Becoming More Common or Just More Vocal? Triage Mode on Steroids
East Carbon City, where Delectation of Tomatoes is located, is a small (1,570 residents), isolated town located In Carbon County, Utah. It is situated at the base of the Book Cliffs mountain range, with the nearest prominence being Bruin Point, with an elevation of 10,188 feet.
Following are screenshots take from Google Maps, showing just how small this town is compared to the surrounding mountains, which are mostly between 7,000 and 10,000 feet in elevation. The overhead aerial photo is of an area that is approximately 1,850 square miles. Even in very dry years, this vast watershed “should” provide plenty of water for such a small town. Here are the references for these two screenshots:
Apparently, city planners have been more that a little negligent in planning ahead for the possibility of an extended dry spell.
In many parts of Utah, it has been the driest Winter on record; and many days in late March produced record- or near record-high temperatures. This deepening drought extends across much of the desert Southwest. See for example, this video, titled, “The Water Crisis Map: 7 Cities That Can’t Survive Another Drought“
Relevance? Well, the local powers-that-be have dictated that nobody, not even the only local food producer, is allowed to use water for any outdoor purpose – see screenshot in the following photo gallery. Would you like to hear my diatribe? I think probably you would not, so I shall spare you.
This does, of course, mean massive alterations of my plans to grow tomatoes, etc. in East Carbon this year. This is a story in development. I can tell you that it’s not just me: several neighbors are irate, there have been shouting matches, etc. Here’s a relevant quote attributed (without evidence, so should be considered apocryphal) to Mark Twain:
“In the West, Whiskey Is for Drinking; Water Is for Fighting Over”
Along a similar line of dictation by the local overlords, many yards (including homebase for Delectation of Tomatoes) have recently received citations for weeds, with threats of large fines and criminal charges. It doesn’t help that the new mayor literally lives around the corner, perhaps a 30-second walk, lives in a very nice home, and drives by this “ugly place” several times a day. Oh, what power does to the human psyche! Would I also try to tell people how to live their lives if I were rich and powerful?
This town would provide a classic case of “The Haves vs. the Have-nots”. The slum-lords vs. the poverty-stricken. Those who are pressing hard to transform this town into a place that looks like a gated community with CCCR’s etc., vs. those who just want to live out the rest of their lives in peace and quiet: “Don’t bother me, and I won’t bother you”. As mentioned in a previous blog, East Carbon City is widely considered the poorest town in Utah. If the rich drive out the poor, where and what is left for them? To join the ranks of the homeless in Salt Lake City?
A bit of snow, Wasatch Mountains, 2-27-2026Section of Book Cliffs (East Tavaputs Plateau) near East CarbonBook Cliffs near East Carbon, 3D viewTinder-dry grass where and when it is typically lush and greenWeeds at Delectation of Tomatoes before citationFront lawn “in compliance”?Table at Ogden Seed ExchangeOne of the last batches of tomatoes processed from the the 2025 seasonFinal batch of seeds extracted from the 2025 season on 3-17-2026Final two “fresh” tomatoes from the 2025 season on 3-25-2026; variety Crispiana, a long-keeperFirst tomato seedling of 2026Many hundreds of hours invested in sending out seeds to other growers who also feel that “Grow Your Own” is a prudent decision
Summary of tomato seeds collected from the 2025 growing season:
Number of varieties from which seeds were saved: 442 Number of batches of seeds saved: 1,006 Number of seeds saved (estimated by weight): 1,314,444 Number of batches discarded because they spoiled: 0 (a stark contrast to 2024 and 2023!)
Dates of completion of seed saving stages: Stage 1 (harvesting): October 27, 2025 Stage 2 (processing tomatoes for fermentation): January 14, 2026 Stage 3 (last batch of seeds extracted): March 17, 2026 Stage 4 (all seeds dried, packaged, inventories, and integrated into 40+ boxes of seeds ready for sharing): March 27, 2026.
The entire house (except the office/bedroom) was kept at 35-50° F during the winter months. There was virtually zero premature germination of seeds – perhaps 1 per 100,000. But indeed, some batches seeds were degraded from the long wait (waiting for me to create time ex nihilo, like so many other tasks and projects…) and have been marked for germination testing and as backup only.
A note about seed orders: it has been an enormous challenge to package and mail out seeds in a timely manner over the past three months, with lag times often being 10 to 20 days. The vast majority of people have been very patient and super supportive, for which I am extremely grateful. But their have been a few who have complained bitterly about the long wait; unabashedly displaying all the signs of Narcissistic personality disorder. Trust me, you don’t want to know the details. I’ll just remark that at times, it takes all the skills I have developed over the years in the realm of Stoicism to keep my own very intense emotions in check, and instead respond in a professional and respectful manner (20 emojis omitted here).
No, I am not perfect, and never claimed to be. Perhaps I “waste” too much time in label preparation; this serious foible is blatant evidence of my own version of Obsessive–compulsive disorder; or is it perfectionism? Perhaps more accurately: I am not a competitive businessman by training, nature, interest, personality, or desire. I was a scientist by profession for 25+ years, more specifically an endangered species biologist. In many ways, that was the polar opposite of getting deep into this fiercely competitive world of entrepreneurship in a free-market system. I have not been very successful at attempting to re-wire my brain…
Turning to the 2026 growing season: so far behind — you don’t EVEN want to know. Apologies in advance to those who will be receiving seedlings in May that will likely be only half the size expected.
And yes, I fear even setting seedlings outside in the sun, as the “Water NAZI’s”, aided and abetted by a town harboring many “Karens” (Tattletales and gossip-mongers). This is a REAL problem; but I am working on potential solutions.
The majority of Utah citizens have been profoundly programmed from childhood to live under Authoritarianism and Patriarchy without even thinking of complaining: Do this, don’t do that; believe this, don’t believe that; and don’t you DARE ask any hard questions! But I diverge…
In summary, can you explain how it makes any sense for a city council and mayor to prohibit their only local farmer from using any water to produce food for the community?
When I moved to East Carbon City, with Delectation of Tomatoes more than six years ago, I envisioned acres of land under cultivation, dozens of greenhouses producing food year-round, and employing at least 15-20 people full-time, year round. Community gardens, school gardens, self reliance, food independence, and so many other projects and ideas that would help a poverty-stricken town. I’ve always been a dreamer, I suppose; but also an extreme introvert and horrible at organizing and motivating other people.
Alternative titles: Parkinson’s Law Present Bias Delay Discounting The Interest Effect The Procrastination-Stress Cycle
As I’ve grumbled about several times in these pages, my back-burner projects have been growing exponentially with each passing season, and have now reached, collectively, the mass of a very large mountain, at least metaphorically.
Let’s see, what was that definition of “Insanity“? Oh yes: Doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results. Well, in large part because of a record dry winter, I may be compelled to break this cycle for the 2026 growing season. That is, the local “powers that be” will likely forbid me and everyone else in this town from watering any plants outdoors with culinary water.
Yes, theoretically, I could rent or purchase a trailer, a caged water tank, and a pump; then drive to another town every other day to fill up the tank with water. One can only imagine the time, the frustration, the expense for gas, the many additional inefficiencies…
Or, perhaps this is the time to get caught up with organizing seeds (more than 3 years behind, except for the tomato seeds whose variety names start with the letters A, B, C, or D). Or get caught up on populating the website (an estimated 1,500 hours of work for this task) — something that was last completed on January 16, 2016. Or (rest of very long list not included…).
The reality of the moment is that I have about 75 hours of urgent tasks that “must” be completed before I will be ready to leave for the following event, which is the premier event every year for Delectation of Tomatoes:
Please come to one or both of these events if you live in the region, and share this link with others who you think might have some interest! This blog post is as close as I get to “Social Media” participation. That “TIME” thing again…
I need to leave first thing in the morning (Friday, February 27th) for this event, and will not return until Monday, March 2nd.
There is much more I intended to write, including uploading some photos. But I wanted to get this post published before the end of the month. I may add more content upon my return next week.
In the meantime, I continue to keep this page updated several times every week:
In my blog post of April, 2024, I discussed the Pareto Principle (more popularly referred to as the “80/20 rule”) as it relates to an attempt to produce tomato seeds of varieties that are of little or zero interest to other gardeners:
Here, I’m just going to give a quick update with numbers from 2025.
Although I have around 3,500 varieties in my inventory, about 400 of those are in development, likely are not viable, are off-type, or not yet grown. This leaves approximately 3,100 varieties for which seeds are available now. Requests for (i.e. “demand” in the supply-and-demand sense) these seeds in 2025 breaks down as follows:
So functionally, there was zero demand, or close to zero demand, for 2,456 varieties that I carry. That’s 79% of my growing and seed-saving efforts essentially wasted. At least if “earning money” is the only metric.
For “light demand”, which I assign as, “between three and ten packets requested”, there were 548 varieties.
For “moderate to high demand”, which I assign as “11 or more packets requested”, there were 96 varieties.
In summary, If I were to throw out seeds of 3,000 varieties, and focus all of my time and efforts on just those 100 most popular varieties, I would save on 97% of my growing and seed saving efforts (several thousand hours of work every year), while “only” cutting my income by about 60%.
Of course, I figured out years ago, that “make lots of money” is not part of my business model. Virtually any person with a sense for business would point the finger at me in ridicule, “dude, you are totally insane and foolish”. And indeed, a few people have done exactly that!!
On a much lighter note, perhaps this should be my theme song?
Dare I confess that I heard this song for the first time in my life just last week?
Regrettably, I have failed to a significant degree with my commitment to get all seeds extracted and dried (or at least drying) from the 2025 harvest by December 31, 2025. Here it is, a full month later, and I STILL have 152 batches in processing. Every day I am scrambling to try to figure out how to squeeze a few more minutes out of every hour, a few more seconds out of every minute, so that I can at least make space for the most critical tasks. Alas, this “Mind over Mattress” approach of the past 15 years has backfired in major ways.
The “Big Event” for January was the Utah Farm and Food Conference, which was very enjoyable, but essentially put me out of commission for a week.
Final batch through Stage 2: Crispiana, a long-keeper varietySeeds drying in mid-JanuaryTomatoes picked green for fresh eating, but rotted before I could get to them. Food for deer.View of the Wasatch Mountains from I-80, west of Salt Lake City. Record warm winter so far, and little snowOne among many visiting deerA chilly morning, outside and insideA bit of snow that did not lastMorning temperature in the seed room
Box of rotting tomatoes set out for deer lasted just a couple of days.
Most deer will not eat the compost (mostly discarded tomato pulp left after fermentation and seed separation)
But occasionally, a deer will bravely choke down some of the compost
A more appropriate title would be, “Processing, Processing, Still Processing…”; but that is too similar to the blog post of 1 month ago.
I really REALLY tried, and even believed (for a while) that I could finish all tomato processing from the 2025 harvest before the end of 2025. That did not happen, not even close; and I am trying to lay off the self-flagellation and self-deprecation. I started today (January 31st) with “only” 48 batches left to go through Stage 2: weighing, taking photos, tasting, taking notes, cutting and squishing and set aside each batch for fermenting. Stage 1 (harvesting — the easiest, quickest, and most pleasant) was completed on October 27th. Stage 3 (actual separation of seeds from pulp following fermentation — the most tedious, time-consuming, mind-numbing, and unpleasant of all tasks every year) typically takes between 10 and 50 minutes per batch (average 25 minutes).
However, for the past several weeks, virtually every container I have has been filled with fermenting tomatoes, waiting for me to extract seeds (Stage 3). One full day at Stage 2 translates to about 5 days at Stage 3. I refill containers as soon as they become available. Regrettably, even after a very long, intensely focused day, I still have about 36 batches left for Stage 2, and around 220 at Stage 3. It took me nearly 2 full (and mind-numbing) hours to get through a single batch today: the largest and most complex of the year. Work Release Paste, 43 fruits, many of them large, all with a lot of pulp and relatively few seeds, and lots of chunks of rotting pulp that sinks with the good seeds, thus making separation exceptionally time-consuming.
Finally freeing up shelf space, December 15thThe final 48 batches to Stage 2 on December 31stTools of the Trade – harder worked strainers there may have never beenPainter stirring drill bit for larger batchesTypical batch, halfway throughMuch water used for seed separation, often 10-20 rinsingsMultiple phases of seed separationOne batch home stretchAlmost thereFinal rinsingReady to spread for dryingA consequence of working pedal-to-the-metal for hours: bucket snagged and spilled when moved too quicky…Part of large batch after 1 hour of processing. Perhaps 50 gallons of water used for this batch.Large batch after 2 hours of processing; final cleaning to be done after seeds are dry
I set aside a couple of hundred unmarked green tomatoes that I picked in October for my own use. The deer got the other 98% of green tomatoes, and there are no tomatoes left anywhere in the tomato patch. I did not find the space or time to spread out the green tomatoes, so many of them rotted before I could eat them, though I have been eating at least 1 or 2 tomatoes every day. I set out a few dozen of these rotting tomatoes for the deer on December 11th, and they were all gone within a few days. I still (December 31st) have a box of green and ripening and mostly rotting tomatoes that I need to sort through.
Surprisingly, even in mid to late December, a fair number of tomatoes that I harvested are still in reasonably good condition. The indoor temperature has stayed between 42° and 55° F, but I can’t hold off the mold forever. And yes, I have an electric heater for the room where I do office work and sleep. And layers of extra clothing.
Seed room semi-chaosStill enjoying “fresh” tomatoes!Copia, December 16thTsindao on December 31stBig Zac, December 31stTomatoes for fresh eating, but no longer a temptation; set out for deer on December 11thSame pile of rotting tomatoes 3 days laterWhat’s left of tomatoes harvested for fresh eating, December 31st
There have been a couple of brief snowstorms, but overall it has been an extremely dry Winter. If this keeps up, there is a very good chance that the city will forbid all watering of lawns, gardens, and other outdoor plants. Maybe I will have to stick with growing only micro-dwarf varieties under lights indoors…
Deer continue to be regular visitors, but in fewer numbers and in smaller quantities. They don’t seem to care much for the 50+ gallons of compost (rotted tomato flesh), but occasionally one will take a nibble or two.
As of this writing (November 30, 2025), there remain about 400 batches of harvested tomatoes from which seeds still need to be extracted. This means I am approaching 70% completion of this task for the 2025 season — a task which feels like a double ultra-marathon every day. I am trying to strike a balance between this massive task and filling seed requests. At the moment, I am well behind on both. But hopefully, before the end of 2025, at least all the seeds will be extracted and drying, if not packaged and inventoried.
The following photos are glimpses into this process, along with other tidbits that may be of interest.
Tomato patch after hard freezeExclosure after hard freezeAbout 20% of the year’s harvest, various stages of processingPost separation from seeds – pulp that won’t go down the sink, and food for deerA few plates with seeds drying and fan going 24/7.Broccoli for microgreens -fresh food in winter…First snow of the season a few hours ago
Deer have been gathering and feasting on the tomatoes left on the vine, amounting to perhaps 1,500 to 2,000 lbs. of green and rotting tomatoes. Electric fence was turned off and gates opened near the end of October. It took but a few hours for the hungry deer to find the bonanza. Security cameras have recorded hundreds of hours of deer movement in or near the tomato patch during the month of November. Activity has diminished dramatically in the past few days, however, as it appears that virtually every last tomato has been located and consumed by deer.
Following are a but a few of the more interesting video clips. Little commentary is needed.
For much of this 2025 growing season, I have managed to keep all tomatoes harvested within a few days of ripening; then process them for seed extraction, dry and inventory seeds, enter data, and keep this webpage up-to-date:
However, for the past five weeks, “keeping up” has been a logistical and physical impossibility, since for me, the month of October is synonymous with “Tomato Avalanche”. With over 1,700 tomato vines to harvest from, and with frost events becoming more frequent and intense, getting tomatoes harvested took top priority. For most nights in October, primary “bedtime” was between 2:00 and 6:00 a.m. At the moment, “So far behind” with seed processing is an understatement. “Quadruple Time” might be a more appropriate title for this entry…
Big Zac 2.606 lb. (several more Domingo and Big Zac >2 lb.)About 1/3 of the tomatoes harvested in 2025Good seed yield for a number of varieties, this one “Hazel Mae”Season-ending frost on 10-28: 23°F in the tomato patch, and a bit chilly in the officeTomato Patch a few hours after 23°
I am doing my best to avoid the disasters of the past couple of years, when the majority of the tomatoes that I grew and harvested ended up in the local landfill because I could not muster the discipline to work (???) hours every day and tried to convince others to do that most unpleasant and tedious of tasks: extract seeds from rotting tomatoes. We’re talking hundreds of varieties and hundreds of thousands of seeds gone to waste – not to mention all that investment of time, labor, hope, and ambition. If only I did not need to sleep, or eat, or get distracted with other tasks. Alas, saving seeds without sharing seeds (something that also takes time) is a recipe for certain collapse and financial disaster.
At least I can quit worrying about competing with the herds of deer for now, and for the next 7 months.
This fist video shows a young buck getting a “Wake Up!!” call in the early morning hours of October 23rd, when I “should have” kept my foot to the pedal for the rest of the night, rather than engaging in self-indulgence (sleeping…) with so much urgent harvesting to do. 😵💫🫨😵
Anyhow, this deer got a second shock as he forced his way into the tomato patch after tearing up the electric fencing and feasting for some time. The two videos were taken about one minute apart.
In short, I have many thousands of fresh seeds of over 200 varieties ready for sharing today. I cannot guarantee a 24-hour turnaround time, but I am caught up at the moment; and I really (REALLY), for my mental (and $) health, must do a little something every day besides seed extraction!
With TIME CRUNCH on my mind, this is, “Until Next Time”!