Tomatoes and Deer

the two are unrelated in my discussion to follow, but I only wanted to make one new posting, being a lazy bd.
the summer is over for hiking, country air, bugs and quiet living. It is back to the city where the main palace is located: noisy, crowded, multiethnic, full of construction, dust and street trash.(and a very weedy garden). A run of 4 day 90 degree weather days is ahead, and the weeds will stay right where they are!! But the end of summer once again reminds me of my youth and under 35 adulthood: fresh garden tomatoes. I fear these are items no longer available. I do not dream these tomatoes: they did exist, they were red throughout, juicy, tasty (something definitely missing) and reliable. At the end of those long ago summers, we (drones and the dictator) would wrap green and ripening tomatoes in newspaper and bring them home to a closet. They needed to be checked, but ripen they did, into late October! Everyday, one year, I had a large tomato for lunch. it was done, ofcourse, in the WASP style of mayonaise and sugar, and a fine meal it made.

today: tomatoes don't ripen, they have a white cardboard substance insteaad of red flesh inside. half the tomato is yellow or green and hard. sitting on countertops, dark closets or anywhere does not soften these plastic things: they just rot. Is this genetic engineering, bioethics, denial of memories and tastes past? the closest I came to having a real tomato this summer was having an heirloom toatoe served in an organic restaurant salad. It was nearly as tasty, soft and red.....good enough to eat. Oh to bring back the tomatoes of yesterday!

And deer: it is the season for wildanimals to cross the kingdom's roads without looking. A rather large wild turkey decided to stroll across one road, and nearly became a hood ornament. He was huge, dents and gunk would have resulted, but he finally stalked away. I am not interested in hunting or eating wild turkeys--just remove them from my vision! but deer! A coquettish doe enjoyed herself bouonding and leaping through newly cut hay fields: she was so entralled with her grace and rebound height that she neglected to see a large regal limosine coming at her, and nearly became a hood ornament of a totalled limo herself. Which is the leap and which is the bound. This doe, seen twice, dancing across fields, was clearly trying to catch the eye of the Bolshoi choreographer, and she was the best ballerina I have seen; graceful, steady and wonderfully high and long bounds through the sweet smelling grass. May she survive the fall, eat the flowers and hosta of the people on my secret list, and produce a fawn next spring!