writing rengeek magpie mind

November 2014

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criminal minds reid eat

it's the sickness of an america where nobody is clean

I just ate half of this for dessert:



Yes, that's a tomato roughly the size and shape of a human heart. It's my job to think about these things.

For the record, it was a Russian Orange tomato, and it was delicious. Sweet and mild, with a velvety texture almost like a persimmon. It's not going in the ranks of my absolute favorites, where the Paul Robesons and gigantic German Striped tomatoes dwell... but damn, that was a fine tomato.

I also had a tiny little Garden Peach tomato this morning. It was as translucent as a gooseberry, and fuzzy on the outside. My life was sad before I knew how good a proper tomato could be. Even a garden-grown Beefsteak has nothing on these guys.

I'm not a fan of the heat of summer, but the things it brings to the table--peaches and plums and cherries and raspberries and blueberries, tomatoes, the first Ginger Gold apples... those make me a happy and well-fed bear.

My heart still belongs to autumn, and the Macoun and Stayman apples. But summer gives it a run. Especially since we found a teeny tiny brown tree frog in one of the foundation shrubs this morning. It had such minuscule fingers!
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I didn't grow this one; I bought it at the coop. But it's from here in town, which pretty much makes all the difference.