Halloween Massacre: In the Garden, No One Can Hear You Scream
Tomatoes, pre-scream, naively unaware of the terror coming to them
I'm looking out the window on the day before Halloween at a shriviled, boney tangle of dying tomato vines. A sad sight and a sad day. End of the season. We turned the clocks back last night. Tomorrow we apply face paint and don colorful wigs. And now the heart of the garden, the precious tomato patch, must be put down, lopped off at the ankles and thrown intently on the compost pyre, bearing the hope of ashes to nourish a new season.
We Still Have Tomatoes
I'm off to work but thought I'd leave you with a rare sight: fresh tomatoes on Halloween. Picked yestesrday. Can you believe it? Gotta love those Sour Cherry Farm Green Zebras!
