It’s not over until the fat tomato sings.

I don’t want to sound like Debbie Downer, but I will go mad if I hear the term “end of summer” one more time. I’m not ready. This would be why.

This is the bounty from my tomato patch. Year-to-date. This one tomato. It was picked yesterday.
Better perspective. A dinner party this does not make.
This was one day’s harvest from last year’s garden. One day’s.
I still have tomato and avocado salads to make,
Caprese salads to share.
I’d like to make sauce.
I’ve been working on this for a very long time. I’m emotionally invested.
And we’re close…
…very close.

So the brakes are on, and the flip flops stay out. I will be wearing white after Labor Day and cannot be persuaded to look at a fall sweater (sorry, Ronnie). Summer is hereby extended until I find at least one big fat red juicy ripe tomato in my garden and I’ve had my fill of Greek salad and BLT’s.   

Who’s with me?


  1. I’m right there with you. My tomatoes are only just now getting color, too. Of course with 2 wild boys at home + friends all summer, I’m ready to declare summer over, but once school starts up – I’ll be looking for my flip flops and sunglasses to join you in your prolonged summer.

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