A Bad Trip Man

Just a day before this headline (quick warning to the squeamish - cover your eyes when linking) we were coming through the garden gate juggling Juliet tomatoes and a bunch of basil in one hand, a coffee cup, compost bucket, and kitchen shears in the other, and had the thought - tripping now could mean mortal damage to our gizzard. It would not look good in the obituary.

A neighbor, Mrs. B.Z. Body said of the late NDL - She never knew when enough was enough. Making two trips from garden to garage was just not an option. Garden tote? She owned a million of them, but seldom thought to grab one before heading to the tomato plot. She superstitiously believed it was bad luck to presume that the tomatoes would be more abundant than what her hands could hold. She might get there and find that the chipmunks had chewed holes in each and every one of them. Too bad she couldn't stop multitasking long enough to leave her coffee mug in the kitchen while she ran out for Caprese Salad ingredients. She seemed like such a nice lady too. If only she could've kicked that caffeine habit. Sad. So sad. Say, do you know if those gnomes will be part of the estate sale?