So I'm really not complaining... but I was kind of sad about my tomatoes, our one casualty. Here are my tomato plants on June 19.
They are almost as tall as me at this point. Ten days later on June 29, they were way taller than me. They were being barely contained by the tomato cages I had planted them in. Then this "derecho" came through and flattened them.
All ten tomato cages blew over and left a tangle of twisted branches and wilting leaves. So sad. But we will rebuild!
We got some stakes and did our best to pull the cages back up and lash them to the stakes and to each other. It's kind of a mess of wire, wood and twine, but it holds up the monstrous plants. And, there was a silver lining: Deep inside the hedge of tomatoes, I found two yellow pear tomatoes that had ripened!
I admired them for a while and then I ate them. They were so good -- sweet and tangy. There are literally well over a hundred more green pear tomatoes where those came from. We're going to be popping them like candy!
In less tasty news, I cut the bejeezus out of my finger tonight. Dan sharpened some of the knives in the knife drawer. Imagine that!! I am used to having dull knives. So after I cursed a bit and bled all over, I sat down and held a paper towel tightly around my finger.... and then started to get light-headed and nauseous. This is something that has come on in just the past 10 years or so. I used to be able to donate blood at our office blood drives. I didn't LIKE doing it, but I could, and it felt like such an important thing to do. But sometime in between having Faith and having Holly, I got to the point where I could not donate blood without becoming faint and dizzy, having the Red Cross people get worried, and having to end the donation without finishing. I was really disappointed in myself; I felt like a huge baby. And I couldn't really understand what the matter was! I mean, I'm not queasy about blood, either my own or other people's. It seemed like more of a physiological reaction. Finally a nurse told me I was having a vasovagal response -- meaning that yes, it was a physiological response to stimuli and did not mean I was a giant wuss. Basically a trigger causes a malfunction in the way the brain handles heart rate and blood pressure. My blood pressure drops crazily.
Anyway, so I sat there with my bleeding finger, and got nauseous and dizzy, and had to go lay down on the couch and actually cried a little bit. I felt pretty silly in a minute, when my senses came back, but HEY!! I have a VASOVAGAL response! I'm not just a big baby!
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