Broomin' tomatoes & Watermelon straws

I've heard a lot of strange things since I moved to the country, but these two may be the strangest. Both come from Ms. Gail. She's married to my buddy Max, who says he doesn't know anything about plumbing. He's full of it.
First of all, she says that I gotta " broom my tomatoes."
I said, "what?"
She said, "broom 'em."
"Why would I broom my tomatoes?" I asked.
"Because, you have only blossoms and no tomatoes," she explained.
I thought she was nuts, but played along... "okay, I'd broom 'em because????" "I dunno, just broom 'em and you'll get tomatoes."
Turns out Ms. Gail hits 'em with a flyswatter b/c she can't bear to hit 'em with a broom, but it's for the same purpose. And here's why as explained to me by Max's son, Josh, who has a degree in Range Mgmt from Texas A&M.
Josh says, "I don't broom my tomatoes b/c I have bees."
"What difference does that make," I asked."
"The bees spread the pollen from the male to the female plants," he explained.
"So," I egged him forward."
"If the bees don't spread the pollen that starts the asexual reproduction process--then broom 'em and the breeze with spread it." So, now I know. I'm gonna broom my tomatoes after writing this blog.
Here's more from Ms. Gail and this one's even better. She calls it an old wive's tale, but claims she's an old wife.
She says place a piece of broom straw in the middle--but across a watermelon (while it's still on the vine). If that straw moves to point from end to end, then the melon is ripe.
I asked her, "what if it's windy?"
She didn't skip a beat and said, "you don't do it in the wind."
So there you have it. Gardening advise from Ms. Gail. Keep in mind, she grows a pretty good garden and she's a great cook. So, I'm gonna believe her. By the way, the last time I talked to her today--she was on her way to the grocery store to pull some straw from a broom on aisle five.
Bill Robertson