And I'm sick of:
Some crushes of my youth didn't age well at all, but I still have a crush on him. (Edited: Yeah, he's only about 8 years older than I am. But my teen crushes didn't hold up too well.) I am in the mood to listen to Huey Lewis and the News. Especially because I'm sick of working for a living, and really could use that couple days off.
Add to the list of things you should slap me if I ever say I'll do again - right after garage sales, let's put "vegetable garden." Seriously. I am not a gardening type, at least not in this brutal climate. My peppers drowned outright; my herbs gamely hung in through torrential rain alternating with 95 degree sun; the tomatoes tried, sighed, and died. Tonight I played Taps and tore them out, bagged the remains, and marched them to the curb.
I don't even want to think about how much I spent on plants, fertilizer, stakes, etc. etc., to get a dozen cherry tomatoes. The extreme weather - torrential rain and then 98 degree sun, repeat, repeat, oh, and just add bugs! - was too much.
The Roma tomatoes in the patio pots are doing much better than the others, and are prolific little devils, but I used some of them in last night's dinner, and you know what? They tasted like NOTHING! They look gorgeous, picture-perfect. They have no flavor. And they are my success story! They are in large pots so I will let them live, for now, but...meh.
Pretty, ain't they?
I could have bought my tomatoes at Whole Foods or Fresh Market for what those little suckers cost me, and I bet they'd taste like something.