cool completeness

This morning on a toasted onion bagel with vegan mayo I assembled thin slices of our garden's first tomato.  It was sunburnt but still delicious, with salt.

At my old church in Sacramento, there was a rule that the first fruit of any tree, each season, needed to be given to Swami so he could offer it.  I remember the loquats ripened before everything else, and some years I would ask, "Has the first fruit been offered?" before eating some.  Other years I came later in the season and didn't have to ask.

Our good friend and community member Peacemaker Boy has gone to Bryce Canyon in Utah to be a seasonal worker.  He heard about the job from some homeless people he gives sandwiches to.  I hope the company doesn't make him sign a contract then treat him like shit.

This morning Ming has a test and it's at 8 so I can't go to Barnes & Nobel to wait for him--I have to wait in the waiting room, which is hard for me.  I hate doctors, doctors offices, and anything associated.

But I love tomatoes.  Ming bought burlap and made individual bags for shading each tomato and I'm like holy crap, so much work for one tomato!  But they're precious.