|In the words of the good old doctor (Seuss)--"That is not all. Oh, no. That is not all."|
This, my bloggy friends, is my afternoon, ahem,"diversion" today. This picture represents the one mere 24-hour period of garden abundance that I could lug home in the bowls I took to the garden. (I'm no dummy; I left the bushel baskets in the garage for a reason.) This, of course, does not include the pots of tomato sauce currently on the stove. And this, dear readers, is what happens when you look at your garden plot in the spring and say "Let's put tomatoes in this general area" as you sweep your arm in a wide circle and then after filling the "general area" you count 50 tomato plants.
This is why I have no new soap pictures to share with you, although I've been madly soaping during those moments when I pretend I don't have tomatoes ripening hourly. And this is why there are little tomato juice puddles all over my kitchen and this explains the scent of an Italian restaurant that has permeated my entire home. The neighbors should be lining up for dinner reservations any time now.
Dinner is likely to consist of leftover tomato products and jars that didn't seal. This means we could be looking at spaghetti sauce topped with salsa, or perhaps, pizza sauce and ketchup soup. Please pray that they all seal so we can have something like grilled cheese sandwiches before we have to check the garden again this evening.