Rotten Tomato Picking

Facebooktwittergoogle_pluspinterestmail

I think I need tomato picking therapy.

I’ve been planning this tomato picking day for a while.

I’m having tomato picking withdrawal.  Didn’t know it existed until today.

The only tomato picking I did today, was at the local farmer’s market while the family waited for me in the car.

Eating their ice cream.

Daphne ice cream 2

10 hours earlier…

We rushed to finish chores and pack our lunches for our picnic at the tomato farm.

We were all excited to go tomato picking at a local farm that lets you pick the tomatoes yourself.

Cool, right?

There’s just something about being at a farm together, with your family, enjoying the gifts our Earth provides.

Besides, my next recipe is salsa.  Perfect timing.

We managed to all get showered and hop in the truck ready for the tomato filled adventure ahead.

I envisioned plump, red, juicy tomatoes smiling at us from rows and rows of green.

The farm isn’t far.

We got there in a jiffy!

“TOMATO PICKING DONE FOR THE DAY.”

“NEXT TOMATO PICKING MONDAY 9AM.”

What?

I felt my heart drop to the truck floor board and some choice words came to mind.  I remained calm.

“Honey, look up tomato picking farms on your phone”.

No reception.

We decide to travel back home to look up tomato picking farms.

We passed a barn sale on the way back, but by the time I said I wanted to stop, we were 1/2 way home.

I hate that feeling of stop or don’t stop.  I should ALWAYS stop.

I dash into our house with hope, and sulk out with the look of frustration.

“Now what?”

I quickly remembered the barn sale.  My second chance, yes!!  We decided to go check it out.

We ended up chatting with the owner, and boy was she friendly.  What a gift, to be so friendly, I thought.

You can just tell when folks are truly good.

My little one gained a Clifford, a bulletin board, while my oldest chose some framed art work.

The day was looking brighter.

The lovely friend we had just met at the barn explained where we could buy tomatoes on the side of the road.

That will work, I guess.  After all, I’m making salsa tonight, woohoo!

We headed that way until I noticed our soft cooler at my feet packed with turkey sandwiches, complete with mayo, salt & pepper.

Not to mention chips and a pickle.

My mouth took over my brain.

We decide it would be nice to go eat first.

Then we see something, up ahead, on the side of the road.

“What is that?”

It’s a young man, and he’s staring at us, and swaying back and forth.

I notice his blue bike is in the ditch.  He didn’t look harmed, but rather, intoxicated?

I looked at my hubby.

He looked puzzled.

We arrive at the park to eat, but my hubby decides he should call the police.

Something was not right with that boy.  It was our obligation to try to help.

We don’t know what happened, and will never know, but we did see police go that way.

We begin to eat our lunch on a shaded picnic table at the park.

We weren’t  feeling quite in the mood for a picnic at this point, but we were hungry.

Then the bee shows up, uninvited.

He seems to have an obsession with Valerie and her turkey and cheese.

Damn bee!!!

Okay…time for a change of scenery.  Lets go get these tomatoes for my SALSA!

(we drove back to make sure the boy was gone.  He was.)

ON TO THE TOMATOES!

This guy had to be crazy.  50 cents per tomato?

50 cents per ear of corn?

Is he from Mars?  I’m beginning to think we are on Mars.

It’s tomato season buddy!  Good luck, and catch ya on the flip side.

Then frustration started veering it’s ugly head back into mine.

This day is just not what I had planned.

A sparkle appears.

Daphne Silo pics

We realize the local dairy is just a hop, skip, whatever,  down the road.

Fresh ice cream made on site, and cool silos to look at.

Doesn’t get better than that.

We walk in.  The line is longer than the line for the bathroom at a NASCAR race.

It’s smelled bad too.

Mama gives up.

I actually become sick to my stomach.

My hubby takes over and I wait in the car.

He texts me, “Do you want cotton candy still?”

What a guy.  I didn’t, but I’m happy they didn’t have to wait too long.

They get in the car.

My hubby says, “I ASKED FOR A SINGLE SCOOP!”

Holy moly scooparoni.

That’s a SINGLE????

Could have fooled me MR.

Daphne ice cream

So the licking began.

Lick, lick, lick.  And more licking.  I never heard so much LICKING!!

It’s amazing how when you don’t get the ice cream, how much the licking is magnified.

Then the dripping.

Hubby’s new shorts did not have chance.

(note to self: don’t eat ice cream and drive)

All well.

Time to go try to find tomatoes before the sun sets.  It’s almost…

SALSA TIME!

We head to a place we visit often, and I find ripe, gorgeous, tomatoes up the kazoo.

They weren’t 50 cents a piece, either.

We got home, and unpacked those beautiful, red, beasts.

Then realized, there is no way in heck I am making salsa now.

We took a 2 hour siesta instead.

And here I am.

No salsa tonight my friends.

But who cares.

Life doesn’t go the way you plan.

It’s not meant to.

I rather look at it this way.  I see it clearer after my nap.

We made a friend.

We helped a boy in need.

We are thankful for the food and time together we shared.

Absolutely no complaints.

By the way, all photos were done by our daughter, Daphne.

Including this one after we arrived back home.

Daphne's butterfly

The salsa can wait.  🙂

Facebooktwittergoogle_pluspinterestmail Tags: Posted by

5 Responses

  1. Dad says:

    Just your Normal Saturday, love, Dad

  2. Aw, glad you shared your day with us. My day hasn’t gone at all as planned either so this is a good reminder, my friend. 🙂
    XO
    (and now I want ice cream)

  3. Teddee Grace says:

    Too funny! Glad other people have days like that.

  4. Dad says:

    Good job Julie, and GOOD JOB INVADER, love, Papa

  5. […] I tell all about that funny day here: “Rotten Tomato Picking“. […]

Leave a Reply

MENU