The bounty of tomatoes

I would like to tell you that the tomatoes you see in the photo above, came from my husband’s garden, but they did not. They came from a way more talented Amish farmer who produces so many tomatoes that he has to give them away. My good friend Cathy brought them to me, hoping I could use them. Yay! What a blessing!

For those of you who like to spend lots of time in the kitchen, maybe you can relate to my victory. Others of you may think I am crazy. I just spent the last two days trying out a new experiment. The truth is, at this time of year, I am addicted to canning tomatoes. Come over some weekend and you will find me ignoring all other responsibilities and canning tomatoes into some form or other. Well, this week I branched out and tried something new. Tomato paste. I got a bunch of Romas and thought I would try making paste. Well, 25 pounds of tomatoes and eight hours later, I found myself questioning whether three pounds of paste was all worth it. Now, as soon as I tasted it, I found that it was! Super nummy! Oh, it was like tomato gold, especially after all the time it took to bake it down to paste! Crazy though, how 25 pounds of tomatoes can cook down to only eight 6-ounce packages of paste. Now the next question is, when do I use it? I think I need to wait until the dead of winter, I surely can’t crack it out tomorrow and use it!

The fruit of all that labor

Edward (right) and his cousin Marcus jumping into the lake

But, let me regress… Back when I was a kid, coming up to the lake cabin every weekend with my parents and sisters, we also learned to love being in the water. One year, a neighbor shinnied up one of the giant cottonwood trees hanging over the water and tied a big rope around one of the branches. Then he proceeded to teach us how to stand on the top railing of our deck, grab the rope over a knot and swing out over the lake and let go. Oh, what fun we had after that! My sister Steph and I got to the point of having to wear gloves while we went off the rope because our hands got so sore. This rope jumping lasted over 10 years. All visitors to the lake were encouraged to either partake of the joy of jumping 12 feet off our deck railing or view those willing to demonstrate the skill. Sadly, the poor cottonwood wore out from all this use! A few years ago my dad had to cut it down in the winter, leaving a tall stump next to the deck, forever reminding us of the lost days of rope jumping.

Fast forward last summer. My fearless nephew Marcus (age eight) set the precidance of jumping off the stump into the water. The Hales watched in awe, but were all unwilling to try.

Now here we are, at the lake with the Rouxs (my sister and her hubby and kids) having a great time. We had a perfect day at the lake. Suddenly, my son says, “Mom, will you give me six Starbursts if I jump off the stump?” “YES! Of Course!” So, I am shocked when he does it! And then he does it again and again and I am reminded of when I was a kid and how much I loved jumping off the rope. Now one of my kids is enjoying the lake in crazy ways, as we used to do off the rope. I am content.

Edward flying off the stump

Two trendy birds having some coffee during their morning commute.

I am taking some WordPress training. This is my first post. Lookout world! (The image of the birds is just to see if I can insert an image.)