When we left the garden Wednesday evening, Nanny handed The Husband a bag of tomatoes - maybe 10 or 12 - that she had picked from our vines.  Yesterday morning, as he was leaving for work, he had that bag of tomatoes in his hand.  I said, "Whoa!  Where are you going with those tomatoes?"   He said he was taking them to work.  In past years, he's taken vegetables to work when I didn't have the time or the desire to preserve them.  But I'm retired now, and while there weren't enough tomatoes for a full canner load, there were enough to fool with.  I've worked hard for those tomatoes!

I made him hand them over.  The very idea . . . .  

I did not can them yesterday, as they need to ripen a little more.  I don't know why Nanny felt compelled to pick them.

My gardening plan for yesterday was to (1) plant the marigolds and (2) dig out some crabgrass, but I couldn't get started early for waiting on the cable guy.  A little before 10, I heard a truck door slam and looked outside to see the cable company truck parked across the road.  A few minutes later, the truck drove away.  The TV was showing a picture, so I went to the garden.

I worked for two hours, planting marigolds and digging grass.  Around 3:30, I went back to the garden and dug grass and moved wood chips for two more hours.  Dinner last night was fried bologna sandwiches.

I'm going back to the garden for a little while this morning, then I have to go buy groceries.

And lawnmower blades.