Tomatoes. I love them — but only in season. Tomatoes with cottage cheese, or mayo, or on a burger — yummy. But, I hate going to a restaurant in February and having a hard, tasteless item placed on my sandwich and being told it’s a tomato. Those I pick off.
The pesky neighbors always work really hard to have a beautiful summer garden, and I work really hard helping them eat the harvest. The last bag of ripe tomatoes they delivered came with a notice that I’m not to expect many more — the ones left on the vines are probably the last for the season.
