Tomatoes In The August Garden

I wait for them all year.  The sunshine warmed tomatoes straight from the garden.  I've mentioned before that one of my fondest memories of "eating tomatoes" is in my early teens, on the porch swing, barefoot and eating tomatoes.  I wanted the moment to last forever.  It was so perfect.

But "perfect" rarely lasts long.  And, each time we recall a memory from our past, we rewrite it.  Did you know that?  So, each time I remember that porch swing moment--it gets re-written. How different it is now from the actual moment?

I got to see the actual condition of my home this morning.  Our Town is re-evaluating the tax rate for all homes (they want more money) and this entails an actual visit to the house.  A walk through all the rooms.  OMG.  What a packrat/terrible housekeeper I am.  The guy asked if the house was originally a one or two story house.  Such an odd question.  I asked him if he considered an attic a second story. Most homes have an attic.

Anyway, there is an attic.  Part of it was made into a bedroom with a bath.  We don't use it.  But must still pay taxes on it.  The remainder of the attic plus a "sewing room" that I use to store things--is just that--an unfinished attic.  As is the workshop over the garage.  I was quite upset at all this "unfinished" and cluttered space.  I rarely go up there.  I guess we just take things up, set them down, and walk away.  At least this is what it suddenly looked like this morning.

So, I am feeling quite messy today.