Nonna Answers

Dear Nonna,

Every spring I tell myself this will be the year I grow beautiful tomatoes. I plant them with so much hope, but by the middle of summer the leaves start turning yellow, the plants droop, and the tomatoes never seem to ripen the way they should.

I water them every day because I worry they're thirsty, but now I'm wondering if I'm actually making things worse.

Do you have any simple advice for someone who just wants to grow enough tomatoes for sandwiches and a big bowl of pasta sauce?

Emily from North Carolina

Dear Emily,

Oh sweetheart, first let me tell you something—every gardener has stood exactly where you are. 

The biggest mistake I see is watering a little every day. Tomatoes like a long, deep drink a few times a week instead. Water the soil, not the leaves, and try to do it early in the morning before the sun gets too warm.

If your leaves are yellowing, gently remove the ones near the bottom of the plant. It helps more air move through and keeps the plant healthier.

One more little secret from my kitchen garden: scatter a layer of straw or mulch around the base of the plant. It keeps the soil cool, helps hold moisture, and saves you a lot of watering during those hot summer afternoons.

Most of all, don't give up. The sweetest tomatoes I've ever picked came from plants I was sure weren't going to make it.

When you slice your very first ripe tomato, sprinkle it with a little salt, drizzle it with good olive oil, and enjoy it while standing right there in the garden. Somehow, they always taste better that way.

I'll be cheering your tomatoes on.

With love,

Nonna 🤍

Dear Nonna,

Every year I promise myself that Thanksgiving will be different. I make lists, plan ahead, and even start cooking early, but somehow I still end up exhausted by the time everyone arrives. Instead of enjoying my family, I'm rushing around the kitchen worrying if everything is perfect.

You always make holidays sound so warm and joyful. How do you keep Thanksgiving from becoming so stressful?

Sarah from Ohio

Dear Sarah,

Oh, sweetheart, can I let you in on a little secret?

The people you love won't remember whether the gravy had one lump or the pie crust browned perfectly. They'll remember laughing around the table, telling old stories, and feeling welcomed in your home.

Years ago, I finally stopped trying to impress everyone and started inviting everyone to help instead.

Someone peeled potatoes. Someone set the table. Someone folded the napkins.

Suddenly, Thanksgiving wasn't my holiday anymore. It belonged to the whole family.

I also learned to cook one or two favorite dishes instead of trying a brand-new recipe every year. Familiar recipes let your hands remember what to do, leaving your heart free to enjoy the people around you.

And when everyone has gone home, don't notice the dishes first. Sit quietly with a slice of pie and be thankful for the laughter that filled your home.

A messy kitchen is often the sign of a wonderful day.

With love,

Nonna 🤍

Dear Nonna,

I retired last year, and while I thought I'd enjoy all the free time, I've been surprised by how lonely it's been.

The days feel quiet. My children are busy with their own families, my friends are scattered, and sometimes I realize I haven't had a real conversation with anyone in days.

I don't want to spend my retirement just watching television, but I'm not sure where to begin.

Have you ever felt this way?

Richard from Michigan

Dear Richard,

Oh my dear friend,

First, let me tell you this—you are not alone in feeling this way, even though it can certainly feel that way.

For so many years, our days are filled with work, raising families, caring for others, and always having somewhere to be. Then one morning, the calendar becomes quiet, and it can feel as though the world has forgotten to knock on your door.

But retirement isn't the end of your story. It's simply the beginning of a slower chapter.

Start with something small.

Take a walk around your neighborhood at the same time each morning. You'll begin recognizing familiar faces.

Bake an extra loaf of banana bread and bring it to a neighbor.

Write a handwritten note to an old friend instead of sending a text.

Visit your local library, garden club, church, or community center. The first visit is always the hardest, but it's often where new friendships begin.

Most importantly, remember this:

Someone out there needs the kindness and wisdom you've gathered over a lifetime.

You still have stories worth telling, recipes worth sharing, and encouragement someone else is waiting to hear.

And until then, I'll be writing to you every month.

We'll sit together over a cup of tea, one letter at a time.

With love,

Nonna 🤍