After two days of heavy rain Thursday and Friday, this happened. Those indeterminate tomatoes I still don’t know the name of — with tomatoes the size of small countries — did the downward-facing dog pose. Only, like me, they never made it back into the upright position. More hot mess than hot yoga.
What you can’t see underneath is the uprooted original tomato cage and several green metal trellises.
G-Man helped me lift and restake it on Sunday. It was a two person job. I lost a 1/4 to a 1/3 of it. It’s the way of Burbville farming. Sometimes, things go wrong.
Hm. It’s National Radio Day.
I realized that I don’t listen to the radio that much anymore. Except in the car. I listen to the radio a lot in the car. We often listen to French radio on road trips, finding it relaxing. We don’t catch most of the words. Maybe that’s why it’s relaxing. Just the cadence of the language/voices. Soothing.
At home, I’m more inclined to listen to Spotify, similar to radio with curated playlists. And, of course, sans broadcaster.
I’m curious. Are you an avid radio user?
Talk radio? Music appreciation?
It’s also National Pecan Pie Day. Do we need to talk about that?
And is anyone as shocked as I am that it’s August 20th?
And Monday is in the house.
Time to do your work thang.