The Fruit Salad Tree is Filling Up
On mornings like this the entire valley moans and grumbles, clasped damply against the soggy breast of a bad-tempered, slow-moving thunderstorm.
Pitch dark at six AM. We'll be milking wet cows this morning....when they deign to come down off the hill that is.
Sorry I missed you yesterday. Deadline was nigh, tomatoes were ripe, and the men could finally chop feed again, after a series of disasters so bizarre and unlikely that you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you about them. (Suffice to say a truckload of ticked off skunks would have been more welcome...what is it this year anyhow?)
The season of ripening maters has lead to BLTs bulging with bacon, slippery with tomato succulance, and so tasty they should be illegal, taco bowls (take everything that makes up your favorite taco and layer it into a bowl, replacing the taco shell with taco chips, with which to dip) fresh, homemade, vegetable-beef soup, afloat with rings of shimmering yellow summer squash, and pungent with fresh-dug garlic, and even plain old tomato sandwiches for breakfast. I suppose if we had fresh tomatoes from the garden year round they would be ho hum, but here in the Great Northeast, tomato time is something to write home about.
Sorry about going on and on about groceries like this, but when I was working on the Farm Side yesterday we got to talking about how the boss's mother used to feed us. She was an old-fashioned farm wife, who felt that staggering meals were an important component of the wage of her worker bees. Since she spent her formative years working in a well-known Boonville restaurant, she was more than qualified to provide the same. She used to even serve the author of Drums Along the Mohawk, Walter D. Edmonds ( a fan of strawberry shortcake in season.)
Not much to say about the earthquakes...none of us noticed any of them. Before we lived here the tiniest one centered in Blue Mountain lake, where ours usually begin, would wake me right up. Now, living so close to the constant stream of heavy freight trains, shaking the earth day and night...well, not so much.
Have a good one...I've got to go get wet.
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6 comments:
When I left my tomatoes hadn't started to ripen but I have a feeling that when I get back I will be waist deep in veggies to put up! Not raining down here yet. Hate the thought of traveling in the rain though! Stay dry.
Lord, TC! I'm sitting here eating a piece of toast and two hard-boiled eggs.
Waaaaaaahhh.
I'll never look at tomatoes the same.I'll be over for lunch ;-D
First paragraph knocked my socks off.
Incredible mother-in-law. Makes me homesick for my Great grandma. Her life was preparing the big spread at the end of the day.
If we could only capture fresh tomato taste year round, we would be millionaires.
Voles are eating my tomatoes before they ripen.......I'm going to war.....I just don't exactly know how to go to war with the little critters.
Mmmmm. Makin' me hungry. Your words are good enough to eat.
Lisa, I think if we had some warm dry weather we would really see them start to come in. I accidentally failed to keep track of which is which, so we have some kind of big ones that are absolutely fantastic and don't remember what they are. lol
Cathy, just stop over and I will feed you a nice tomato sandwich! And thanks
Jan, you betcha! Best time of year is tomato time...or maybe strawberry time...and the peaches! Yowsa!
Linda, mothballs? Mouse traps? 50 caliber?
WW, thanks! We had taco bowls again last night and if anyone can get to the store today I think I'll make more. lol
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