These are the tomatoes I just picked. They are not to be confused with the mound of 'maters I picked less than a week ago.
They came from just five tomato plants. I didn't even bother to pick the cherry tomatoes today because I still have a giant bowl full of them from last week. Isn't that ridiculous?
What's more ridiculous is that I don't really like tomatoes. Can you believe it? Oh, sure. I'll eat them green and battered and fried and smothered in ranch dressing. I'll eat them ripe and sliced and smothered in ranch dressing. I'll even stuff a few slices in my mouth if they're covered in mozzarella cheese and drizzled with a nice balsamic vinegar. But overall, they really don't do much for me.
But I still grow them every year.
Because they do so well here that it's almost like growing a weed, and therefore they satisfy that part of my personality that craves instant gratification and something for nothing.
Well, something for nothing except the time it takes to turn them into spaghetti sauce...