When my friend and colleague Jane turned around at her desk and asked me if I needed any tomatoes, I recoiled in horror.
"Oh, dear god, no," I said. "We have so many, we're letting the dogs eat them right off the plants."
Last year, there was a blight and it seemed that no one had any tomatoes. This year, no one can give any of them away.
Time to make homemade salsa. Or perhaps some serious canning: stewed tomatoes for winter. Imagine getting real tomato taste in February. Mmmmmm...
"We've been eating tomatoes with lunch and dinner for a month," I told her then it hit: That's why I'm getting pimples!
I've been wondering why I'm breaking out; the acid in tomatoes would do it. It's like how corn burns that little piece of skin between your top two teeth: for everything wonderful we experience, there has to be one little thing that keeps us from over-doing it.
Now off to the squash patch to see how many different kinds of soup I'm going to have to make.