This is a purchased tomato which looks wonderful. It was not wonderful; it's barely adequate in taste. Too bad taste buds can't be trumped by eye appeal. Alas! No way. I have given up in the search for a tomato that tastes like those of my girlhood. These are only one bunch of three bunches and more flowers promising more little tomatoes on my once tiny plant. They are either cherry or plum tomatoes not fat round ones like their hothouse cousin above but I despair that they will ever be red. Today is August 1, the sun is bright, it finally feels like summer. June and July were more like May should have been only wetter and much grayer even than, say, March. So the plant grew big, attractive in its way like a hunk with a gym-made body; but whatever goodness [brains for the hunk] has yet to be seen.
Should have made the picture below larger -- it's a sign I loved a Coonamesset Farm where Rachel and I went to see what their system is. Can one come and pick fruit and vegetables? Is the price good? Yes, one can for an $8 entry fee and then the cost per pound of the fruit or veggies is not much different than grocery store. No bargain though it's probably fresh and delicious. However the sign brought a smile -- a vegetarian buffet ... good, with pulled pork ... huh?
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!