We Love Tomato Sauce

My tomaters are in! We have them coming out the wazoo now and are eating many variations of tomato-based sauces and salads. Tomatoes out of the garden taste soooo much better than the ones at the store, it's crazy. I especially like them fresh picked just seconds before... there's something almost magical about feeling the warmth of the sun still on their skins. Or maybe I just miss eating dead animals, har de har.

My tomato plants totally outgrew the original plot so I spent a couple hours on Sunday ripping out grass and digging a bigger plot to accomodate them. There were some seriously weird bugs in there. And my shoulders are still sore. But the plants responded by seeming to explode even bigger than ever, and greener, and with more and more new fruits.

I'm finding that gardening is pretty intuitive. I was apprehensive at first to try something about which I knew absolutely nothing. But for instance, when I see tomatoes sprawling all over the ground and being swallowed up into the shade, I can figure out pretty quickly that I need to stake them up a little better. Not saying my garden's going to win any beauty contests, but it's growing like mad so I must be doing something right. Or not terribly wrong.

And let's not forget the basil of course. I have two like this, and it's all I can do to keep them pinched back so they keep getting fuller and not spindly and tall. I'm really pleased with the health of them too. I obviously have a few critters out there, and some bug bite marks, but nothing really out of control at all.

There is this weird tomato though. It's had this dead, flat white patch since it was green, and now getting the brown spots. I think what happened was the stem was twisted around and half of the tomato wasn't getting any nutrients as it grew. I guess I should have tossed it long ago, but I'm curious about what's going to happen to it. Eventually I want to pick it and cut it open and investigate. Gross, right?

A wider shot of the yard. The shadow is from the garage at left. In the evenings Mike and I stand in the shady area there to hit wiffle balls out to Russell.

This is the facial expression we have to endure from the moment we get home from work until we go out and play, and then once he's caught his breath, again all the way until bedtime. Please play ball with me, please please oh please play ball come on please I'll be soooooooo sad if you don't play ball with me. Dogs are truly wonders of evolution. They don't have opposable thumbs but they have mastered the art of emotionally manipulating humans with great subtlety.