It's only August!

And it's supposed to freeze tonight. Last night the weather station recorded 32, but it's out at the airport and isn't accurate for here, or my parents (who are higher elevation). So we covered. It would be a shame to loose the garden when the tomatos are just starting to ripen.
It is cold out there--my husband had to work at midnight, and it felt like it probably means to freeze or get awfully close when he left.
There is a big, fat tomato sitting on the table from one of the Pruden's Purple plants. It is easily as big as my husband's fist. Or both of mine. It is the first of that variety to ripen, and it looks tempting. We may be having it tomorrow for dinner. The plum tomatos are nice except for the blossem end rot. Slice it off, and they taste just fine.
I guess, technically, it's September now.

Mom and I decided that my husband and my dad need to go fishing this weekend. They haven't had nearly enough time to do that over the summer. You should've heard my husband tell his friend (laughing) that his wife and mother-in-law were 'making' him go fishing this weekend. His friend didn't feel sorry for him for some reason! I suppose all men want their wives to tell them they need to go play more, whatever sort of play they enjoy.