Sunday, August 23, 2009

squirrel spit

When I told Megan I had posted a blog, she asked if it was about squirrel spit. Nope. But now I feel obligated, even though I just blogged ten minutes ago.

Although my maiden name is Gardner, I'm not cut out to be a gardener. Things won't grow unless you water them, and frankly, I just forget. So mostly, they die. A perfect gift for me is flowers to plant because I love them and because I forget to water them they die and can be replaced by more gift flowers the next year.

Now for the title subject. Greg and Peter are better at growing things. (Great talent for farmers, but it doesn't always translate to smaller plots.) For a change, we got the tomatoes in on time this year and they are flourishing. It was so exciting to see all those fine, delicious looking tomatoes. The squirrels thought so, too. The little devils went around and took big bites out of most of the ripe tomatoes.

Greg thinks it is OK to cut off the eaten parts and eat the rest of the tomato. I contend that squirrel spit permeates the whole tomato and harbors some type of plague. Do any of my faithful followers know the true answer to this conundrum?

PLease reply before half the family gets the squirrel spit plague and the other half throws out perfectly good tomatoes.


Beee said...

You should look for dead squirrels, I believe that they are just being unpaid quality control agents. .. or taste testers for the kingdom. If they survive, then the tomatoes can be assumed to be safe to eat and were not poisoned by the evil mice enemies of the kingdom.

Marissa said...

Hmmm. . . I don't know. The longer I have been in college the less of a germ-a-phobe I become. However, this may be crossing the line. I mean, how do you explain to a doctor that you got mono from sharing tomatoes with a squirrel?