As you can see in this picture, there are some big tomatoes that are almost ripe, and I have more ripening on a table outside. However, every plant has evidence of blight.
See the brown, dried-up leaves? Every day I pull off more of them.
So I'm not really expecting to have tomatoes for long, but I will enjoy them while they're available. Next year, if I even have the inclination to try again, I may try using fungicide. I used it long ago with some success, then later on I tried it without much success. We'll see.
On the other hand, cucumbers are doing well, happily climbing the garden fence. Just so you know, all that tall grass is not in our yard, it's part of the pasture. For years I had problems with squash bugs killing all my viney plants. Last year I never even saw a squash bug when I let the cucumbers climb; if that turns out to be the case this year, I might consider doing the same thing with a squash plant or two. If I have to give up on tomatoes, I'll need to plant something else in their place (as if anything could take the place of a good garden tomato).
Wednesday Cliff got a call from the radiology doctor where he went for radiation, reminding him of his appointment yesterday: We didn't even know he HAD an appointment! On his last visit to the urologist, he was told he might get to stop taking the female hormone shots next time, and that wish of Cliff's came true! So eventually he will lose the hot flashes and other side effects of the drug. He always complains that the doctors just make him come in so they'll make more money, and that he's wasting his time. Yesterday, for instance, he said, "That doctor could have told me everything on the phone. All he did was ask how I was doing and answer a few questions."
I told him before he complains about doctors, he should remember they've saved his life at least twice. I'm sure he was heading for a heart attack before his bypass surgery; and the doctor who operated on him after his gall bladder exploded told me after surgery, "He could have died!"
Since we were sort of in the vicinity, we stopped at Costco after the doctor visit. Among other things, I wanted one of those big, Costo rotisserie chickens. We got home around noon. I baked a couple of potatoes in the microwave and heated up and seasoned a can of green beans to go with our chicken. I always grab a leg and thigh; Cliff prefers breast meat. Today I'll use two cups of the chicken to make our low-fat chicken jambalaya. We'll get at least two more meals out of the chicken, possibly three more, after today.
This morning I was praying for a situation; actually, I was praying for a person (no blood kin) who caused the situation because, you know, we're supposed to pray for those we'd rather smack in the face. But then I found myself doing such a ridiculous thing I couldn't believe it: I was telling God how He should fix the whole situation! I hope I'm not the only person who's ever done that. I did apologize to Him, and even had a little laugh at myself because, really... who do I think I am?
Honestly, I've learned that the main thing prayer changes is the person doing the praying. When I have a conversation with God about things, it gives me a different perspective. Let's face it, the only person I even have a remote chance of changing is myself, anyhow.
I finished the great book I was reading yesterday and am now reading a delightful book by Robert Hillman, "The Bookshop of the Broken Hearted". It's supposed to be a three-hour-and-12-minute read, so I'll likely have it done by this evening. It reminds me of "A Man Called Ove", which Cliff and I both loved. Speaking of Cliff, I finally got him to start a Chet and Bernie book, and after reading awhile, he said, "I think I'm gonna like this book."
OK, it's time to head to the kitchen and start the jambalaya.
God bless all my readers. You are the cream of the crop!