This was my first tomato of the season, a Mortgage Lifter heirloom tomato from a plant generously given to me by Derek's mom. I picked this lumpy fellow and then immediately sacrificed him for my BLT needs. He was delicious.
I got the first two of what promises to be several hundred yellow pear tomatoes, if their blooms are any indication.
|These look like they should have cartoon faces, canes, and tap shoes for a jaunty little dance number, don't you think?|
This means I now get to add diced yellow tomato to almost every dish I make. This also means my family now gets to leave a pile of diced yellow tomato on their plates after they've eaten everything else. I don't know why I insist on planting more than a single tomato plant every year when I'm the only one in the house who will eat them. The heart wants what the heart wants.
My rain lily yet again went from the pot-full of brown, withered leaves I pulled from its winter perch in the basement to magically full of blooms. Every year I am amazed by this plant, and tell it so every day when I water it, whispering, How are you so amazing? I don't understand how you do this every year!
Sometimes I feel like I wasn't meant to live in town, where other humans can bear witness to me doing things like whispering to something that can't whisper back. Oh, gosh, but thank God it can't. Whisper back, I mean. Looks like I'm supplying my own nightmares tonight.
The roses were particularly beautiful this year.
It almost made me want to plant some more rose bushes, which is a little miraculous, as I've tended to look at roses with no small amount of disdain in the past. I'm really not big on divas, floral or otherwise, and any plant that needs to be pruned in a specific way and lovingly tucked in and catered to every fall is really too much for me to handle. Our local public garden had some really beautiful Buck Roses last time we were there, though- Buck roses being a variety developed by an Iowan bearing the last name of Buck who wanted roses that could actually survive an Iowa winter.
I particularly liked these, as they were a beautiful peach color that I managed to capture not at all in this photo, but still- "Sunbonnet Sue." Someone remember that for me.
If you follow along on Instagram, you've seen that anytime I leave our yard, my plant-related activities don't go so swimmingly. To summarize, what started as a gorgeous blackberry crop
ended in maggots. In my kitchen.
And yet somehow, I still believe this:
|Thanks Cassi (I think it was Cassi) for sharing!|
For now, though, I think I'll stick to my own yard.