The Last Tomatoes of Summer

It's been a few months since I pulled up the last of the garden. It was a very small suburban garden, four rows. Here was a case though where size didn't matter. The first row, zucchinis, we had coming out our ears, I gave away bags. Lynda even made zucchini bread with chocolate chips, not bad. The next row was peppers, green ones and chillies. We roasted the chillies, ate some and froze some. We're going to do more chillies next summer. Then there was a row of cucumbers. Not sure what happened. We had some good ones but many were small and curled and didn't seem to ripen to a healthy looking green. We still want cucumbers though. We'll have to rethink what we do next time. And finally the tomato row. We've had gardens before. Growing up we both had gardens. We know there's a difference between home grown and store bought.

I guess it's been a while since we've tasted something from our own dirt. But these tomatoes were the big surprise. They were too good to be true. Almost from the beginning I knew there would be an end. Once they started coming in I was eating them twice a day, for lunch and then at night for dinner. After awhile Lynda complained she was overdosing on tomatoes. I said, ' They'll come a time when they're gone.' I reminded her of the flavor, the texture, their sweet juiciness . . . a tomato and mayonaise sandwich.

We were getting night time temperatures near the low thirties and for a couple of weeks we covered the plants. Then one night it went down to 27. The next morning the plants had turned black. It was over. There on the kitchen counter in the harvest basket was what real tomatoes would taste like for another year. We let the last couple get old and wrinkly and pass naturally.