“The tomato offers its gift of fiery color and cool completeness.”

Today is cool, in the high 50’s, but it is still a lovely day with sun, a blue sky and some clouds. I went out earlier to pick up my order of tomatoes, milk, a cucumber and a loaf of pullman bread. I’m already tasting my grilled cheese sandwich with tomatoes.

Yesterday was a monumental day. I got dressed in outside clothes. That doesn’t happen often anymore.

Speaking of tomatoes, my mouth is longing for a taste of homegrown tomatoes, but they’re at least a couple of months away. My father loved those tomatoes, and when I visited my parents’ house for the weekend, and they were in season, I always brought him some. I’d buy them on the honor system from tables in front of peoples’ house. My father always ate his tomatoes the same way. He’d slice them and then slather the tomato slices with mayo then he’d carry his dish to the living room to watch TV. I swear he yummed the whole time he was eating his tomatoes.

I need to fill my deck boxes. The side boxes nearest the back door get the herbs while the rest of the boxes get flowers. I am not behind my time. I always buy after Memorial Day. I’m thinking maybe Tuesday.

When I was a kid, I marched in our town’s Memorial Day parade. I was a brownie when I first marched with my whole troop. Actually we didn’t march as much as we sauntered together waving our small flags. I remember my parents yelling my name as I went by them. The little league, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts and politicians rounded out the parade. We marched to the cemetery where there were a couple of speeches then the playing of taps. My parents said after the parade I was so excited when I told them, “Everyone was out of step but me.” I suspect you can imagine how long that little bit followed me.

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2 Comments on ““The tomato offers its gift of fiery color and cool completeness.””

  1. Hedley Says:

    The sun is out and Mrs MDH are in mid summer mode. Worked on the patio this morning, now we are lollygagging with books and the never ending stream of music ..right now it’s John Lee Hooker.

    Somewhat appropriately I just finished Simon Heffer’s “Staring at God”. A rather lengthy description of Britain between 1914-18 while war was raging on the continent. Naturally I think of my warrior grandfathers and it all seems inconsistent. Geoffrey was described as 5’ 3 3/4” in his papers, he was 5’ on tip toes. They took him at 17 years and 11 months to be gassed at Arras. Afterwards he could never stand watching anyone put themselves in danger. Jack volunteered when war broke out and for his troubles was blown up on Vimy Ridge in April 1916 and spent a year in hospital. The next stop for his regiment, the 1/19s was the Somme and decimation

    I knew them and loved them as my grandfathers, and it took many years to understand they were warriors

    • katry Says:

      My Dear Hedley,
      You are where I would hope to be except substitute patio with my deck. Today, though, is still chilly, sweatshirt weather. I’m watching movies.

      The men of World War I were warriors indeed. They survived such horrors like the gas. Your grandfathers were brave,


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