The Tomatoes Don't Lie, 2018

All records are off this season, for reasons previously explained.  But for the record, First Tomato of the Season = August 1.

Data for years 2005-2016

This is the only tomato post I can find for last year. A record-keeping fail, apparently. But I note this is at least the 3rd year in a row where May and June have been "strangely" rainy and the hydrangeas love it but the tomatoes don't -- and there's a jungle in the backyard.

Strength Rises Up

Shamelessly pinched from a friend of a friend of a friend's FB page

Street art from the Krog St. tunnel in Atlanta.

Tomatoes in Ground, 2018

I thought I was going to let my tomato patch lie fallow this summer -- it rained almost every day of the Spring, well into June, and was uncharacteristically cold. But then we had some landscaping done and the nice men built me a brand new raised bed, larger than the old one, and there was all that nice soil sitting there doing nothing, so....

I went and bought some cheater tomato plants (some w/ fruit already on them) and planted 3 cultivars and a bunch of herbs, and there's still room for fall cilantro and lettuce. Throws the "tomatoes don't lie" narrative right off, but hey: tomatoes. And if it stays warm through August, we might even get some.

I may or may not have been motivated as well by a week at the beach with farmer's market tomatoes every night.

St. Isadore, Patron Saint of Shorts

Image source unknown.

Two days late observing the feast of St. Isadore, patron saint of farmers, but I love this painting so much I had to share it anyway. I thought at first that he'd worn holes in his knees from his hard work, but upon closer inspection, I think he's wearing shorts and boots. Plus, according to this write-up, the saint wasn't that great a farmer: too busy praying and going to Mass to have worn his clothes out. Though, thinking again, perhaps it was all that kneeling.

However that might be, here's something delightful. In the Philippines, they do a water buffalo parade where the buffalo kneel to St. Isadore on his feast day, as a sign of gratitude for a bountiful harvest.

Here's What A Citizen Looks Like


This fellow gives me so much heart, less because of his specific position and more because of his robust understanding of what it means to be an American citizen. I love his line about whatever the Founding Fathers intended, they wrote rights for all. He isn't waiting for rights to be bestowed on him; he claims them because he knows they are inalienable. Bravo!

Not What I Personally Use Them For

From a convention of college administrators.

[h]istorically, restrooms have been a way to reinforce sex assigned at birth (female/male) and gender (woman/man) identities and expressions

Not what I've used them for. Historically. 

Christ is Risen!


The women run, they hurry to say: "Here's what we found!" The surprises of God set us on the road, immediately, without waiting. So they run to see. And Peter and John run. The shepherds, that Christmas night, run: "Let's go to Bethlehem to see what the angels told us." The Samaritan woman runs to tell her people: "Here is something new: I have found a man who told me everything I did."
People knew the things he had done. And those people run, leave what they are doing; even the housewife leaves her potatoes in the pot  --she will find them burned-- but the important thing is to go, run, to see the surprise, the announcement. Even today this happens. In our neighborhoods, in villages, when something extraordinary happens, people run to see. They hurry. Andrew lost no time, but hurried to Peter to tell him: "We have found the Messiah." Surprises, good news, always do that: they hurry us. In the Gospel there is one who takes some time; he does not want to risk it. It is Thomas. But the Lord is good, and waits for him with love. "I will believe when I see the wounds," he says. The Lord has patience even for those who do not go so fast.

The announcement-surprise, the response in a hurry: the third thing I would like to tell you today is a question: "And me? Is my heart open to the surprises of God? Am I able to go in a hurry or am I always with the refrain: "Tomorrow I will see, tomorrow, tomorrow?" What does the surprise say to me? John and Peter ran in haste to the tomb. The Gospel of John tells us: "Believe." Peter believed, but in his own way, with faith a little mixed with the remorse of having denied the Lord. The announcement causes surprise, hurry, and the question: And I, today, this Easter 2018, what am I doing? What are you going to do?

~Pope Francis, from Easter Sunday homily 2018 (my refinement of google trans)

Filling A Void


I went searching for this painting, a favorite, certain I must have put it here on the ol' blog at some point. Doesn't seem I did though. Now it will be handy.