2604. Quails’ Eggs

When Matilda cooked she never skimped on the ingredients. If the recipe called for a certain type of mushroom and she couldn’t find it in the shops, she would abandon the recipe altogether.

This time, however, she had promised quails’ eggs to Ethan for his 75^th birthday. Could she find any? You guessed right. Creativity wasn’t Matilda’s middle name for nothing. She got a pile of cherry tomatoes, stuffed each one with a yellow cheese mix, and called them “Quails’ Eggs”.

“They’re called Quails’ Eggs because of the size,” said Matilda. “That’s what the recipe is called. Eat them as an appetizer or a nibble with drinks. And here’s a bottle of wine to go with it. Happy 75^th birthday!”

Ethan had never eaten a quail’s egg. He was looking forward to trying it. He got totally blotto on the wine. He hated tomatoes.

2547. Gabriella’s tomatoes

Gabriella took up gardening with a great deal of enthusiasm. She had never had the space before. Her marriage had broken down and broken up, her daughter was safely tucked away at university, and the place Gabriella now rented had a large, in-need-of-a-weed, vegetable garden. There is nothing nicer than a home-grown freshly picked tomato, thought Gabriella. Besides, she needed a hobby to take her mind off things.

She purchased a packet of tomato seeds; “Grosse Lisse” the variety was called. The back of the seed packet said they were best sown in trays inside and kept moist for quite a few weeks before the estimated last frost. There were six compartments in each tray so Gabriella sowed twelve seeds in her two trays. Each day she carefully watered them. To a first-time gardener it was an exciting and interesting venture.

The “official date” of the last frost came and went. Not a single tomato seed had germinated. Not to be beaten, our intrepid gardener got in the car, drove to the garden centre, and bought twelve healthy tomato plants.

Throughout the season she had tomatoes coming out her ears. Which just goes to show that some stories don’t lend themselves to murder.

2308. Back in time

For goodness sake! I only wanted to go to the supermarket to get a few things, so I jumped into the car and set out for the few miles to get there.

I swear that every ten yards or so that the car travelled, everything went back in time by several years. The style of the houses and gardens changed; the other vehicles were ancient models. Before long there were carts being pulled by horses along a dirt track. I still seemed to be driving my modern car but no one noticed.

The style of clothing changed, as did the hair. Everyone wore hats! Good gracious! I swear that boy is wearing what I would call knickerbockers. And there is a group of children racing with hoops.

Oh but it’s changed again. The industrial factories have given way to pasture land. I must have gone back quite a few centuries by now. There goes a knight on a horse exactly like I imagined they looked like. He was possibly on his way to join the Crusades. And here is the village market in the street.

I parked my car next to the communal well and walked along the stalls. I couldn’t see what I wanted, so I asked.

“Hello,” I said, “I’m looking for a few things but I can’t find them. I need to buy peppers, tomatoes, avocados, potatoes, and possibly some teabags?”

The man looked at me as if I was from outer space. He said a few things in what sounded like a foreign language, so I said “Speak proper English, you Bonehead.”

What a fool he was. I held up a couple of carrots indicating that I wanted to buy them and gave him a two dollar note hoping that would cover things. He took one look at my money and went berserk. Other stall holders joined in. Some threw eggs at me. I barely made it back to my car.

As I travelled home the time gradually moved forward again, and as I entered into my gated community I thanked God I was once again safely ensconced in the enlightened twenty-first century.

1995. Snuffed in ignorance

Jodie-Lee will never know if the professor’s hunch that tomatoes cause cancer is true. She’s dead.

1917. Tit-for-tat

I mean, what can one do? The next door neighbours have been very kind. When my little girl was ill and I had to spend a lot of time with her in the hospital, the neighbours came over and mowed my lawn. Wasn’t that kind? I am a keen gardener and my property is not exactly tiny, so the lawn takes over an hour to mow. But that was no trouble to Nadine and Todrick, and what a lovely surprise to get home and see the lawn all shipshape.

Now it’s the end of the harvest season and the shops haven’t messed around in putting the price of vegetables way up. Tomatoes especially are a hideous price. So I picked the last of my tomatoes just before the cold weather set in, and I’ve been ripening them in a turkey dish sitting in the sun on my dining table. When they are all ripe I’m going to put them in a bag and take them over to Nadine and Todrick’s by way of thanks.

At least, that was the plan. My mother came in to baby sit my little girl while I went job hunting. It’s almost impossible these days to be a parent and look for a job. Once a job is found it’s easier to settle into some sort of routine. But looking for a job is erratic and hit-and-miss.

Anyway, when I got home my mother had kindly cut the tomatoes up and had made a green tomato pickle. That was sweet of her, but the taste is atrocious. I couldn’t possibly give the neighbours a jar of this pickle so now I’m all at sixes and sevens as to how I should thank them for their kindness.

Oh thank goodness! There is a God after all! I have just heard that Todrick is in hospital and gravely ill. Nadine spends all her time at the hospital of course. It will give me the opportunity to mow their lawn.

961. Seeds

Leigh was into health food. She had an overabundance of tomatoes this year and decided to make and freeze some soup.

Of course, the thing she most disliked about making tomato soup was skinning the tomatoes, and removing the seeds. Seeds in tomato soup! Never! All the recipes said to take them out, and she did. What a task!

And so to make some healthy bread. Now where did she put that carton of seeds?

To listen to the story being read click HERE!

888. Gilbert’s tomatoes

Anyway, Gilbert had always grown tomatoes. And now he was eighty-four and the doctor had said something like “Another four months and you’ll be gone.”

Eighty-four is not too bad a number, thought Gilbert. And he had just enough time he hoped to plant some tomatoes, now that the frosts had passed. He should get a few fresh tomatoes before the hearse called in to pick him up.

The tomato vines were loaded. It was as if they knew this would be Gilbert’s final season and they poured out their gratitude for his seventy years or so of caring for tomatoes. There were dozens and dozens of tomatoes just beginning to ripen.

And then… and then… (I know, dear Reader, that you think he’s going to drop dead before he gets to eat a tomato, but he doesn’t. In fact he’s still feeling quite good, especially with the medication). And then… and then… just as the dozens and dozens of tomatoes were beginning to ripen, some thief came in the middle of the night and pinched the lot.

Anyway, as it turned out, it was Gilbert’s last tomato season.

To listen to the story being read click HERE!