I can tell it’s fall. We’ve been chasing around here trying to get all the ‘got to’s’ done before it freezes, like tearing down old buildings, planting grass seed, and a whole lot of other things. The kids really don’t get too excited about another garden chore, but they know when we get down to clearing the garden, tomato baseball is right around the corner. Tomato baseball is one of my inventions morphed from my childhood.
Back in the day, I knew frost on the pumpkin would bring the boom. More importantly, the lowering of the boom. The boom was an old rusty spade that I would lift high above my head and smash down on the helpless frost bitten tomatoes. Their flesh and seeds would scatter across the garden and stop with a splat, when they got to my brothers. It was glorious. Glorious that is until they got a boom of their own (usually by confiscating mine.) Then it was my turn to get splatted.
We would lower the boom, use the boom to catapult naked tomatoes, and finally ditch the boom for a tomato fight with our hands. Because let’s face it, when mixed with enough youthful energy a hand shucker gives you the best crevice filling splat of all. My mom never cared if we lowered the boom, were covered in tomato bits and sauce or that we were utterly daffy in some twisted hillbilly way. This puzzled me for years until I had a couple of boys and a garden.
Who knew in this age of computers and video games lowering the boom on tomatoes would be somewhat out dated? Actually boring is what W and Barney called it. Like my mother before me, I had to think of something to entertain these war mongers while clearing the gardening and soaking up the last few bits of fall before the long days of winter set in. Tomato baseball was the answer. There is just something exhilarating about hitting a flying tomato and getting rewarded with a pink mist. I mean really, can life get any better than smashing a green tomato into the next wheat field or into your brother?
Regardless of the tomato sauce covered clothes to wash and seeds to pick from their teeth, it makes my heart sing when I see the smiles on their freashly freckled faces. It causes me to remember why we chose to live on this old farmstead and have a garden. That garden gave us bountiful produce for our bodies and a ton of free therapy for me. But my favorite gift from the garden is the final one, tomato baseball. It’s fall’s finest sport. I plan to play it every year with my kids and God willing teach it to my grand kids.
Sis
Tags: budget friendly fun, cheap fun, family date night idea, new sport, organic gardening, spending an emergency fund, tomato baseball, tomatoes, vegtable garden
[...] our first killing frost, marking the end of tomato season. This saddened me. But, after a game of tomato baseball all my cares were erased. Now, on every surface of my freshly painted counter tops in my [...]