It’s official. I have too many tomatoes. So far I have dried two full loads of tomatoes in my dehydrator. It’s the cherries that are plaguing me now. Those plants I wrote about in mid-summer, the oversized cherry tomatoes, are producing so many rosy red fruit I could open a roadside fruit stand.
This year is so wacko that even the tomatoes don’t know tomato season is over.
No rain and 80-degree weather. I wish I had not packed my swimming suit in the “summer clothes” box I store in the back of my closet during the off-seasons.
In a normal year, I would be picking green tomatoes and taking them inside to turn moldy on my kitchen counter. However, each time I peek at the tomato plants, I end up bringing a huge bowl of red rubies into the house.
We held a silly Halloween bash at Dad’s house last weekend. I brought down two huge plastic baskets of tomatoes, some of which were thankfully snatched by my “new sister.” Now that batch of goodness can grow moldy in her refrigerator instead of mine.
I might dry a new batch in the dehydrator. However, I think I have already offloaded dried tomatoes to most people I know.
Recently I had a date with a new guy. He invited me over for dinner, and I brought dried tomatoes and raisins. He acted pleased, but I saw them on his kitchen counter when he cooked for me again the next week. For our third date (I think I like him!) I offered to bring a fresh batch of tomatoes, but he declined. I guess you can only eat pico de gallo so many days in a row.
Bring us some rain! Bring us some normal. Make the hills green. Bring the cold to make the tomato plants turn to gray mush.
The Hacking Halloween was a huge success. My folks live in a rural town in the Sierra Nevada foothills. My dad’s neighbors have become wise to the stress of children walking up and down hills. The families dress up their kiddoes and drive to nice neighborhoods where the roads are flat.
This meant the number of trick-or-treaters was about as plentiful as guests at a coronavirus backyard party.
Yet, did that stop the fun? Heck no.
My step-mom had some time during the pandemic to plan for some outrageous holiday decorations. She bought not one, but two 7-foot blow-up green aliens. When my sister and I arrive for a visit, we have a green “boyfriend” spread out in our guestrooms.
The “boyfriends” were used last weekend as props for the home decoration. Lynda, my step-mom, also provided green alien masks that flashed radiantly. We filled bags with candy for a total of 12 children who were the recipients of our generosity.
Of course, we didn’t want a bunch of people knocking on the door — coronavirus and all.
Instead, we found a way to drop the bags of candy over the back fence, which is on a slope overlooking the street below.
Twelve children, aliens, weird lights, and alien masks — maybe that is the true spirit of Halloween. Oh yes, and an overabundance of family fun.