every tomato...

...Yes, every tomato has a spot on this planet. But should every tomato have a spot in your kitchen? 

I have been working through the buckets of tomatoes we had picked last Saturday and it's clear that Ed's bucket has a mixture of fruit. Mine are more uniform: all shiny red, unscathed, untarnished. Many of his have, well, flaws. I'd encouraged him to concentrate on picking perfect ones. That's why you do u-picks, so that you can control the caliber of produce you bring home. You get to decide! There were plenty of perfect tomatoes, let's pick those!

This isn't Ed's way of thinking. Bad tomatoes aren't really bad, they just have some bumps and bruises that don't really ruin the flavor. Besides, you can always cut off the parts that you feel are beyond acceptable. I protested: there are plenty of tomatoes that are great! Just leave the flawed ones behind.

He didn't leave the flawed ones behind and today I attacked his pile and thought about who made the right choice here. My bags are bursting with perfect fruits. The flawed ones I left behind are probably being composted. Or picked by the farmers. Or donated to kitchens. What's wrong with that? The point is, his pick or my pick only shuffle the load a bit. In the end, all tomatoes meet a certain fate: on someone's plate or in the compost pile. We can't change that fate: we play only a tiny role in the whole chain of tomato outcomes.

The moral of the story? Do not take Ed to u-picks if you want your freezer load to be larger than your composted trimmings.

All this processing of tomatoes takes place in the late morning, after I'd done my bit for the animals, after I'd weeded the next several square feet of garden space. 

And after breakfast.

By the time I finished, the clock ticked forward and it was time to pick up Snowdrop.

And here's the thing about throwing things in the compost pile: if it has seeds, they may sprout. Snowdrop discovers that some squash seed, tossed carelessly into the pile, sprouted a very impressive squash vine. Snowdrop is thrilled: we have our own pumpkin patch!

Which reminds her of pumpkin pie, which reminds her that she is hungry. I think today she broke all records in fruit consumption. Peach, strawberries, mango. A few very old cherries. An orange and many, many slices of watermelon. 

It's impressive what kids can eat at one sitting.

Come to think of it, I should have offered her a tomato. A fruit, after all! 

(Driving home: gaga, what are "dramatic clouds?"  These!)

(The boys, waiting at home...)

Supper at the farmhouse: I cook up a veggie soup. With tomatoes.