My Little Golden Book of Phobias

Because I planted Mutant Tomatoes From Venus a few years ago, I now have volunteer tomatoes growing across the yard. They sprout in every direction and grow enormous feathery arms. The tomatoes are small yellow ones that are super sweet. However this year because we have no summer to speak of, there are no tomatoes, not a single one. Just giant tomato plants climbing all over the place. Maybe I could train them to climb vertically and I could shinny up to the giant's house like Jack and The Bean Stalk. Eventually I'd have to tell my mother I squandered the money I got for the cow I sold but she'd be entranced by my giant/tomato plant/bag o' gold story and all would be forgiven.

We all leave today for Cle Elum, surely a dream vacation spot. Tracy's baby is too little for actual camping so we're gonna go to a 'cabin', actually a nice house with a kitchen and a bathroom and a fridge and a porch. We will still play charades and Scrabble and cook great messes o' food while the kids run around in the trees. A few days away from computers, pagers, phones etc will be heavenly. I might bring Scott Turow's book, Presumed Innocent, a book I have read many times. Don't see the lame movie with Harrison Ford. Read the book. It's trashy and wonderful, in the way of dark and inappropriate desires. And the damage they do.

And I'll add Cider House Rules. For ballast. And Cadaver Dogs by Rebecca Loudon. Her book glows in the dark.