It is tomato season.
Yesterday they were canned, frozen, made into salsa, dried, roasted and made into soup.
My fingers were wrinkly and tingling from their acidity.
There are normal tomatoes.
Tomatoes that are too big to fit on a slice of bread.
and tomatoes that defy description.
There are green ones, red ones,yellow and some with a purplish tinge.
All are delicious and most have left juice, seeds and pulp on my shirt, the floor, the stove (that's a bad one!), the floor and the dog.
There are still strawberries.
And now I need to make chips for dipping.
My feet hurt.
My lower back hurts.
The kitchen smells like tomatoes and peppers.
and now I'm going outside to paint trim.
The next time this house needs painting I think we'll move instead.
There are still strawberries.
And now I need to make chips for dipping.
My feet hurt.
My lower back hurts.
The kitchen smells like tomatoes and peppers.
and now I'm going outside to paint trim.
The next time this house needs painting I think we'll move instead.
3 comments:
But isn't it one of the most satisfying nurturing feelings to be able to harvest one's own produce? Must link back to our cave person hoarding days or something!
Nothing so fabulous as opening a jar of tomatoes in the dead cold of winter, and that aroma which instantly takes the imagination back to summer days. Yum, yum!
Joy = AMAZING :)
What a wonderful Harvest they look very tasty nothing beats the taste of homegrown Yummy :)
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