Pride goeth before rotten tomatoes

I will in the coming paragraphs commit one of the deadly sins. Pride. Which Wikipedia, the know-everything reference, says is the worst of the seven. I am not ashamed.

Check out the photo accompanying today’s 180-word squirt. Those tomatoes are the first of 2022.

No, were the first. Because they’ve already gone to tomato heaven, which in garden theology is Gauger’s belly.

That flash of light in the photo is, of course, the morning sun. I prefer to think of it as the blessings of the garden gods smiling upon me.

Regular readers of 30-Second Read know my success in gardening is best described as repeated failure. “Crash and burn” works too.

But this year’s garden so far is splendid. I planted more tomatoes and peppers than ever before and even added lettuce and cucumbers.

I picked those first tomatoes over the weekend. I’ve also harvested lettuce. I’ll reap Hungarian hot wax and banana peppers this weekend and cucumbers soon after. Then jalapeño peppers.

It’s early, and May’s pride may goeth before next month’s rotten tomatoes.

But today? We eat.