My brother and I were once discussing our Nebraska spouses’ love of landscaping and dirt-digging. It was a mystery to us and, as I said to him, our family’s idea of fun was a “good book and a candy bar”.
Yep. Still is.
My friend and fellow blogger Retired Mountain Lady recently posted pictures of ripe tomatoes. It is **May** and she has beautiful, fat, juicy, red tomatoes already. Is that amazing or what???? (She is also from Nebraska, by the way. Just sayin’.)
I suppose I could buy tomato plants in Rhode Island and carry them to the lake in the back of the Highlander, but I think Banjo Man would protest. He gets a little grumpy when packing the car, and has yet to agree to finding room for the chocolate fountain, despite my whining about it for four years.
I’m doing something wrong when it comes to gardening.
I want so badly to eat big, ripe tomatoes this summer. BLT’s!!!!! Homemade peach salsa!!!! I could live on nothing but BLT’s…and peaches…and yogurt…and Wheat Thins…and peach salsa.
I’m not going to give up. THERE WILL BE TOMATOES! I WILL FIGHT MY GENETIC CODE!!!!