Some things never change.

Since so many of you love to hear and tell stories, I'm going to tell you one.

When I was just a little chick, a Saturday during tomato and corn season would be spent at a farm in Doylestown (which, living closer in to Philly at the time made that the "country").  Present and accounted for would be my parents, my brother and my maternal grandparents.

Two brothers owned the farm and while the majority of acreage was used for the growing of commercial or "cow corn", there was a huge plot of corn and tomatoes reserved for the use of family and friends.  We got to pick corn and tomatoes from that plot.

We came equipped with lots of baskets and boxes...that was a given.  But Grandpa and I always brought along something extra...a cut glass, metal topped shaker...OF SALT!

Because, you can't go picking tomatoes without eating some on the spot, right?

I would trudge behind Grandpa...he would show me which tomatoes were ripe...I thought that he had some kind of magical gift because every one of the tomatoes he showed me were absolutely, positively delicious.  I would pull off the tomato, rub it against my shorts and take just a little bite...big enough to break through the skin and into the meat of the tomato.  Then, a sprinkle of salt, and a huge bite, with tomato juice dribbling down my chin.  Another sprinkle of salt, another bite and soon, the whole tomato was gone.  On to another one.

That began my love affair with fresh picked, vine ripened tomatoes.

During junior high and high school summer break, I can remember getting into it with my mom about what I wanted to eat for lunch.  For, every day, it was the same.  A sliced tomato (freshly picked from the garden), on white bread with mayo.  That's it...every day.  Mom just didn't get it...she had a fridge filled with lunch meats, leftovers, cheese...but no, it had to be tomato and mayo on white bread...every day.  A bit obsessive, no?

So, this morning, I was outside filling Fred's water bowl and came around the corner to the cherry tomato bush.  You have to understand that we don't have a huge yard and we've made use of just about every bit of available space so there's no place for a veggie garden, per se.  But, I have to have some vine ripened tomatoes, so every year, I put a plant in a pot and wait to see what happens.  Some years, we have a great crop...other years, it's pretty sparse...and then there are the years of the hungry birds!  OY!

Well, as I rounded the corner, what did I spy with my little eye?  You got it...a ripe cherry tomato.  Instinct took over...I plucked that little sucker, rubbed it on my shorts and plunked it in my mouth.  Yummmmmm!

Some things never change! :)

OK, while we're all in the storytelling mood...do tell!  Any behaviors from childhood days that haven't changed...we're dying to know!

Comments

[peggy]

oh carol
i am truly touched by your story. i am sitting here with tears in my eyes. my grandma jennie and grandpa jack were (and still are to this day other than my children and grandchildren) my most favorite people in all the world. i would just love school breaks because that meant i could go spend time with them. my grandfather drove a truck and delivered newspapers. mostly he delivered new york papers but when i was young, he delivered papers in new jersey. now we all know (do not be insulted) there is nothing like a jersey tomato. he would keep salt packets in the truck, pull off the road when he would see a farm with a sign "fresh Jersey tomatoes here". We always knew when he had one because he had a special grin on his face. One day I asked him why he just didn't bring some home and then he could have them more often. He put me on his knee and said "sweetheart, if I had them all the time, I would not have the fun of looking for different farms and that delicious taste of just being picked would not be there and it would not be as special if i had them all time." I gave him a kiss and said "just like that kiss, if I lived here all the time then my kisses wouldn't be as special?"
okay - carol now the tears are rolling down my face.
also wanted to tell you that today, I took all the girls on the "Quackster" in philadelphia. it is a "bus" that sort of looks like a duck and drives around philly and then goes in the water and takes you in the river for a bit and then back on land. everyone gets a quackster to "quack" at, at appropriate times. it was so much fun
hope vern is having a wonderful father's day
xxxoooxxx
peggy

[melissa cavanaugh]

okay, note to self, do not read the comments when I am at work... love fresh picked tomatoes, just not the salt... love memories of childhood and gardening with my grandparents (my mom's parents) although my grandmother was a bit obsessive when it came time to plant, yes, we actually used a ruler, and if it said the seeds were to be 6" apart, that's how far apart they got planted... now as an adult, I just kinda guess, would hate to think I was as OCD as my grandmother... I have a tiny garden this year, in which the squash completely overtook everything, but I did get some good zukes... my dad's parents were more into horses and cards than gardening, thank goodness grandma always had horses for us to ride, and I can't think about A&W rootbeer without thinking of sparky and little man (I didn't name them)... and rides from the "country" to "town". I hope you had a great father's day weekend!

[Mary Mitchell]

Apple picking was something we did when I was a child. My parents would drive 30 - 40 minutes over the border into Wisconsin and we'd pick apples. Everyone would get a bag and we'd start going up and down the rows of Jonathan apples plucking only the perfect looking specimens. I can remember walking past the donut and cider booth wishing my mother would break her "no snack" rule and buy us some applesauce donuts.
When my kids were born I continued the tradition of going to the apple orchard every fall to pick Jonathan apples and pumpkins. But before we leave....we head up to the gift/cider house and splurge on a bag full of applesauce donuts and a jug of cider. My daughter is now 19 years old and she wouldn't dream of missing apple picking day in October.

[Michelle Aguilar]

Love the story also as it brought back memories to me going to Iowa from HOT arizona and visiting our farmer relatives. I wanted to go out and pick corn for my aunt Edna but, when we came closer to the door with all this corn in our hands, she said oh I forgot girls, don't pick the corn, I don't need any today and low and behold we chuck it back in the corn fields. Letters written by my relatives were always saying about how they had this or that for lunch and then fresh picked tomatoes. LOL I bet you can relate to those letter then huh? so, meanwhile growing up out here we had loads of gardens, living at home or otherwise and now as we speak we have them growing great again.

We took 5 years off as now there is cantaloupes, watermelons, zucchini,home grown tomatoes from seeds(my Juan loves these more then starting with plants), jalapenos(for him being Mexican, there is always something in that flavor in our gardens)LOl
so they are doing very well.

thanks for the memories Carol as now I wish to have myself a tomatoe sandwich. LOL