Tomato Temptations and Sage Redemptions

If you ever find yourself meandering through Dorset lanes with a few spare minutes and a boot that isn’t quite full of plants, I can highly recommend a detour to Mill House Nurseries in the delightfully blink-and-you-miss-it village of Owermoigne.

I say “detour,” but in truth it has become something of a ritual. If I’m passing, the car simply turns in of its own accord.

The tomato temptation problem 🍅

This time of year is especially dangerous because the tomato house is in full swing. Rows upon rows of sturdy, healthy plants stand there looking impossibly virtuous and full of promise, as though they know they’ll be producing bowls of sun-warmed fruit by July.

I always go in telling myself, very firmly, that the greenhouse is full. Absolutely full. Not another pot can possibly fit.

And yet somehow I find myself performing the familiar greenhouse shuffle: sliding trays along shelves, rotating pots at improbable angles, and wondering whether tomatoes really need quite so much personal space. There is always room for “just one more.” There is, of course, never just one more.

A sage redemption story

My most sensible purchase of the visit was a beautiful, sturdy sage plant — bought with the quiet determination of someone seeking redemption. Last year’s sage met an untimely end after I moved it in the cottage garden at entirely the wrong moment, a decision it never truly forgave me for.

Gardeners will understand the guilt. Plants have a way of dying pointedly, as if to say, “Well, this is on you.”

This new sage looks robust, optimistic, and blissfully unaware of my track record. I have high hopes we’ll have a long and happy future together, provided I resist the urge to “improve” its living arrangements.

Why it’s impossible to leave empty-handed

What makes the nursery so irresistible is the sheer health and quality of the plants. Everything looks like it genuinely wants to grow — a rare and cheering sight after battling the odd sulking specimen at home. Their prices are exceptional and I seem to have accidentally bought some onion set while I was there too!

You arrive intending to browse and leave plotting where to squeeze in another tray of something.

So yes, the greenhouse is fuller, the herb bed is forgiven (hopefully), and my resolve remains as weak as ever.

If you happen to be passing, just pop in. But don’t say I didn’t warn you — you may leave wondering how many tomato plants is too many tomato plants.

Sue

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