Every Good and Perfect Thing

It didn't rain for more than a few minutes at a time the first couple of months after we planted.  The same week that our county was officially declared to be in drought, the rains came, and they never stopped.  We had a rough start, however.  After losing all the broccoli and brussels sprouts we had started indoors from seed, replanting several crops several times in order for seeds to get enough rain to first germinate and then survive, watching cucumber plants shrivel into dust (two times!), the Giver of all things green and growing completely surprised us with a bumper year for most of our crops.

The tomatoes had some blossom-end rot at the beginning of the season, but that cleared up when the rain came, and thanks to the drought, the tomatoes escaped blight for the first time in six years!  We ate tomatoes until we were sick, made salsa, and canned nearly 200 quarts of plain tomatoes for the winter, besides.  It was the Year of the Tomato Jungle whose memory will ruin tomato contentment in years to come.

Molly, the chickens left only a solitary morning glory, bravely standing next to many uprooted comrades.  It was a beauty, though.

This was our first bowl of cherry tomatoes, which I documented with glee.  Little did I know that many, many more were to follow,

paired with nearly as many dirty toes.