i guess it seems like long ago.
it's filled with lots and lots of heirloom tomatoes.
when i planted them, i added to our summer list "make salsa, and have a burrito bar party!"
i envisioned stepping into my super-overflowing-garden in the super-cool-summer-evening
wearing my super-cute-floopy-gardener's-hat (who cares if the sun is going down)
carrying my super-cute-wire-basket
collecting the most super-beautiful-tomatoes
you know, like the ones you see in super-non-realistic-magazines.
i pictured friends sipping mojitos listening to a little ingrid michaelson in the background.
maybe a round or two of horseshoes
i would be throwing my head back in slow-motion laughter
(you know you want to do that too)
the little twinkle lights would be glistening overhead
and those homegrown tomatoes...
they would be superstars.
the talk of the evening.
"oh joni, how did you ever raise such amaaaaaaaaazing heirloom tomatoes...they are superb!"
and i'd say, "no you're superb"
and they'd say, "no, you are"
and then we would do a silly little cat fight fake hand fighting business.
bashfully blinking my eyes again...in slow motion...because that's dramatic... i would deliver an awe-inpiring dictation on raising prizewinning heirloom tomatoes.
in my dreams.
because my tomatoes are still on the vine greener than Elphaba and smaller than my toe.
so there are no homegrown tomatoes in my salsa.
no slow motion hair flipping or dramatic blinking.
but, we made some pretty bomb diggity dog taco/burrito things and we had a heck of a good ole time.
i'll leave the twinkling lights and perfect parties to the magazines.
and i'll hang out with my friends who are super-freakin-awesome all the time.
...and my store bought tomatoes.