First things first.

Just so there isn’t any confusion.

Why, yes. I did change my header image. Thank you for noticing.

You did notice, right?

I do that from time to time. It’s like moving furniture. It must be done.

You may notice other little tweaks over the next few weeks.

Then, again, maybe not. I don’t know how much decaffeine you’ve had before you hit this site.

Do not be alarmed.

It’s just me.

Moving furniture.

Meanwhile, back at Burbville Farm & Gardens.

Remember this?

Miss Chadwick Cherry?

I’ve been calling her Miss Chadwick Cherry all summer long when, in fact, this is Chadwick’s Cherry. As in… Alan Chadwick.

Thunks head on desk.

And referring to this tomato as Miss Chadwick’s Cherry just seems wrong, and maybe NSFW — not safe for work.

For the purpose of this post, Chadwick’s Cherry will remain She Who Must Be She.

She started out her burbville garden life in a little seed packet from Edible Antiques.

Incubation.

Chadwick’s first picture. More like a sonogram really.

This was my first year of growing from seed.

I started in April, but probably should have started in March.

It’s hard to tell. We had a cool, wet summer.

This represents four varieties — three plants of each. In no particular order, because I can’t tell them apart right now — There is a key somehwere. — Chadwick’s Cherry, Cherokee Purple, Constoluto Fiorentino, and Dr. Carolyn.

Little Miss Sprout. Finally, the morning sickness is over.

We’re sprouting. We’re sprouting!

Peat pots, baby!

This went up on Instagram as my version of take-out salad bar. You’re looking at four types of tomato here.

I ended up with some square shots here. Don’t ask me how.

But, you know…

Hip to be square.

Chadwick’s Cherry is in the ground.

The lone survivor of three seedlings.

I can’t really talk about it.

The little cherry that could.

And she grew, and she grew, and she grew.

See the original tomato cage? Then the first set of stakes? Then the second?

Over the fence now.

Enjoy, neighbors!

Chadwick’s first turning.

Proud mama.

We’ve been collecting a basket of these every other day now.

I might have eaten a few during the photo shoot.

Mebbe.

We call it…

The Producer.

Here be Hump Day.

Eat a tomato. You’ll feel better.

Elen