Fruits Of Labor

Okay...so I didin't make sauce or paste or come home smelling of home made something or other. I DID let the damn chickens out of the coop before they roasted inside. I did check out the conglomeration of a garden that my mother says is hers. The vines of a pumpkin have overgrown almost everything. There are baby green pumpkins mixed with the haze of green spicy tomatoes. There are big fat onions in the middle of...a dirt patch , alone and , yes, surprisingly succulent. The peppers are between the tomatoes and the pumpkins and are hidden, cowering beneath feathery veined leafs. I picked nothing. I saw nothing "ripe". I longed for a ripe tomato, hot and juicy against my teeth, but alas, found, nothing. Instead, I went into my mothers air conditoned home and grabbed an icy cold beer, settled down into comfort in the kitchen and logged onto her computer. I surfed the news and sipped my beer and enjoyed myself.