Sunday, August 18, 2019

Lucky and the Pinocchio Tomato

However rare true love may be, it is less so than true friendship.—Albert Einstein
We've been watching an interesting relationship developing over the summer. It's one of those star-crossed relationships where this thing really shouldn't be happening, but it can't be helped. It's between these two creatures:


We met Lucky the cat a few months ago while we were out on our walk. We'd only made it a few steps from the house when this black and white blur went past us, and the next thing we knew, there was this cat prostrating himself in front of us. Seymour looked at us and then at the cat, and then did his usual lunge towards cats that cross his path... except Lucky rolled away and then sat looking at Seymour for a few moments before he casually began grooming his paws. Seymour looked at us again, then at the cat, and then he tentatively approached him, his nose sniffing and leading the way. Lucky jumped up, then Seymour jumped back, and then they stood again, looking around and away from each other, but neither of them much interested in leaving.

And so, that's been kind of the evening ritual these days. We leave the house, Lucky sprints over to see us, and then he and Seymour have this awkward kind of greeting for a few minutes before we tug Seymour away and continue our walk.

Every so often, Lucky will appear at the entrance of our yard and peer in. He runs away when I approach, but every so often, Seymour will be out on the deck, surveying his kingdom. They look at each other from afar before Lucky leaves. And that is that.

But this afternoon, the hubby was out on the deck reading and called me over to say that Seymour had a visitor. And there was Lucky, loping around on the deck, sniffing at our plants and generally checking stuff out. I put Seymour on his leash and let him out, and the two of them did their thing... sort of hanging out together, but not really knowing how. Maybe one day they'll work it out:


The garden is reaching its pinnacle for the year I think. The veggies I planted were sort of 50% successful: the beans were a total failure, as was the zucchini, but I've been getting some decent cucumbers and chard. The strawberries and blueberries seem to have survived being transported from our previous house quite well and have been providing us with a few handfuls of berries here and there. And the tomatoes are currently in a flush of ripening, which is a great relief for me. I should learn not to get so hung up on my tomatoes ripening. It's like I take it personally when they stay green. As if a tomato had a grudge against me.

I was looking over the plants this morning and spied this interesting mutant. I'm not sure what's happening here, but none of the other tomatoes have this. I've decided to call it the Pinocchio Tomato. I'm not sure what it's lying about, but whatever it is it must be a doozy:


Meanwhile, I've been slowly picking away at my current shawl project. I've been enjoying the way it's been progressing, but I've been struggling with a sore shoulder and forearm the past couple of weeks, so I've been finding that I need to rest it most evenings. It's mostly aggravated when I am swimming, but the pool just closed down for its annual maintenance, so I'm hoping that the break from winging my arms around will be just the ticket. My arm felt pretty good today, so I've managed to get this further along than I thought I would. I'm just about to start a two-colour brioche section, which is a stitch I have never done before, so I think I'll take a rest to do a bit of research on it before I continue:


It's always shocking to see how quickly the summer passes. I've found this summer to be relatively more pleasant usual. I've often said how overwhelming I find summer... the heat and the worry of forest fires and the general busy-ness of the season sometimes just gets to me. This year has been cooler and a wee bit wetter, so that helps. And maybe, just maybe I'm touching what it's like not to have to burn myself out each summer trying to keep up at work and with the expectations to be out and about all the time. All I want to do these days is to just stay home... and I'm finally starting to not feel so sheepish about it in a world that equates a busy life as a worthwhile one.

I'm off to muse on what to make for dinner. Seymour is outside watching for his friend. If this is not a worthwhile endeavour, I don't know what is. Have a great week!

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