Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Me Big Helper

Hey all.

I hope everyone had a nice Tuesday. Mine was uneventful enough. Work. Home. Migrain. Nap. Dinner. Blah, blah, blah.

While I was making dinner, I caught some kind of movement out of the corner of my eye. I looked out the window and saw my son picking what was left of the grapes off the vine in the yard. I turned back to the stove thinking "Oh, isn't that nice to see. He's out there enjoying the day. Roaming the yard. Exploring nature and..."

Poof!

I heard a short blast of air that I knew I should recognize. However, having just awakened from the migrain induced nap, the ol' neurons weren't firing quite right just yet.

Poof!

I heard it again.

I looked out the window again.

Yes, my son was in fact enjoying the outdoors, exploring nature in his own teenage way. He was picking grapes and stuffing them down the barrel of a paint ball gun and then shooting them off at God only knows what.

These are the kinds of things that happen when you deprive your children of television.

Another example.

I asked son to whack the weeds at the end of the driveway since they were now higher than the car and it was becoming a little like Russian Roulette whenever you had to pull out. ("No whammys, no whammys, no whammys...Floor it!") I couldn't leave the goat to eat these weeds because it was just a little too close to the road and Lord knows, I don't need some goat inspired law suit over a wrecked vehicle. Son - being the good and obedient child he is - whacked the weeds and then, I guess out of boredom - or, perhaps an unquenchable desire to express himself artistically - decided to use the weed whacker to make crop circles in the lawn.


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It's a little hard to see, but I think you can get the idea.

Oh, how my children suffer...


As for myself, I did recover from the migrain enough to venture down to the garden of civil unrest. My sister-in-law begged me to go pick some tomatoes. I don't generally feel right picking any since I don't really pitch in but she was really begging this time. Like this...

Phone: Riiiiing
Me: Hello?
SIL: Have you been in the garden lately?
Me: No, why? Did it burn down or something?
SIL: No.
Me: Oh. Well, whatever it is, I didn't do it.
SIL: No, that's not it. You have to go pick some tomatoes.
Me: Are you sure? What if you don't have enough for jarring and stuff?
SIL: There's enough. Go pick some. There's a lot.
Me: Are you really sure?
SIL: Yes, they're...everywhere. Everywhere. Hundreds, no thousands of them.
Me: So...you're saying there's enough for me to take a few...
SIL: A few. A FEW!!! You don't understand. I...just...can't...take...anymore. I...the tomatoes...orange everywhere. I tried. I tried dammit! God help me! I...I...
Me: Are you...um...ok?
SIL: OH GOD! I can't pick any more tomatoes! You...you have frineds and co-workers who like tomatoes, don't you? You could get rid of them, right?
(She was sounding more and more frantic now.) You! You could take them and give them to the ladies you work with! Your clients! A housewarming basket of tomatoes!
Me: Um...I don't know on that one. I mean, some people are allergic and all...
SIL: Louisiana! Send them to the hurricane victims! A tomato relief drive!
Me: I think you need to get a grip here.
(But she was beyond help now.)
SIL: Go! Go get the tomatoes and save everyone! Save them! There are enough tomatoes to save the world!!!

And I heard the phone hit the floor and sister-in-law sobbing in the back ground.


Ok...I'm making it up.

She did say there were a lot though.

So, today I walked down to the garden while dinner was in the oven and clambered over the fence much the same way I imagine the deer do.

The garden has gone pretty wild by now. At first, everyone is all about the weeding and everything. Once the dog days of summer hit, they all become pretty much like me and are like "Garden? What?"

I walked to the end where the tomatoes are and whoa. There are a lot.


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And that's just a small smattering. Like about one fourth of the tomato population.

So I picked three.

And then I took this picture.


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See? I'm a helper!

Ok, I promise I'll go pick more tomorrow.

1 comment:

tony c said...

Are them Eye-talian plumb tomatoes, Butt?

Nice.

Yep. When they're ready you gotta pick em.