Thousand-pound tomatoes

I always thought it was something that happened to other men as they got older, but not me. I was different. Owing to my extraordinary machismo and strength of character, I would not experience this ‘life change’ until I was at least 75 — and at that point I would just take a pill to restore my virility. But it’s no good. Turns out we all suffer from this affliction in middle age, no matter how determined we are to keep our peckers up. I have succumbed. I’ve taken up gardening.

OK, ‘gardening’ is the wrong word. It conjures up images of elderly women in floppy hats, stooping over their gladioli. I am not a gardener. I am a tomato specialist.

For the past four years, I have been growing tomato plants and now consider myself one of the world’s leading experts on Solanum lycopersicum. Seriously. I’m ready for Gardener’s Question Time — or at least I would be if all the questions were about tomatoes.