Of Roses and Tomatoes

It's yesterday's Cecile Brunner rose, without the spider.

This morning we bought 30 pounds of tomatoes from a couple who sell their organic produce from a truck at the side of the road by the cemetery. Since we hadn't done any canning yet this year, I figured it was time. I think, however, that I just maybe perhaps may be getting a little bit too old to be standing on my feet all afternoon chopping and boiling and slipping those beautiful fruits out of their skins. I'm exhausted, but comforted by the little pops of the lids that are properly sealed when they come out of the water bath. There are, however, a few quarts that didn't pop yet; I fear I will have to reboil the contents tomorrow and reprocess them. That is just plain not fair, but it will be nice to have tomatoes this winter; they just taste so much better than the stuff in metal cans.