What is it about tomatoes, anyway? Everyone LOVES tomatoes. Even people who have the blackest thumbs around want to grow tomatoes. "I'm afraid I'll kill it" they tell me. "But they're weeds" I tell them. They don't believe me, and so I have to prove it to them with tales of the Brown Berry Cherry I planted in a pot last April, from which I plucked half a dozen or so sepia tomatoes on Christmas Day. I hadn't watered the thing in months, too (ok, the fact that it rooted through the pot into the lawn and was getting watered anyway is beside the point).
The point is, anyone can grow a tomato and most people, gardeners or no, do. I'm not sure whether it's a senitmental, harkening back to a simpler time when Grandma grew tomatoes and corn in the back corner of the yard kind of thing, or a desire that most people have (whether or not they admit it) of returning to the land. To dig in the soil, connect with nature, to watch something that we planted grow, that we can then harvest to augment our bagged grocery store salad is really cool.
Whatever the reason, it's tomato season and I'm fretting because I only have room for three. Three plants which will produce more than I could ever eat on my own and I'm bummed because I want to have more. Which is another topic altogether. So I have to whittle my choices down. I'm thinking there will definately be another Brown Berry Cherry to garnish the Christmas turkey.