Joey and I ate the first ripe cherry tomato this morning.

It was delicious.

Yes, I cut it in half.

A friend of mine, when we were in college (Canadians say university for programs like the one I completed, but it's an American college), was always asking people, if they were a fruit, which fruit would they be.  My reply was tomato, as I am red, a little squishy, and versatile.

This summer, I am growing tomatoes on our balcony.  It is a higher-floor, concrete balcony, so I haven't had trouble with pests, and on my one cherry tomato plant and my one regular, bred-for-container-growth plant, I have lots of fruit growing.  The cherry is quite productive already, though they are all still green (even though last night I dreamed they ripened into gorgeous, red-and-white tiger striped things - not that they will be anything but regular red when they do ripen).  There are two large specimens on the standard-tomato plant, but also lots of flowers.  I'm hoping for quite a harvest.  My cilantro/coriander plant is fruiting, my basil is flowering (though I've pinched most of them off so the leaves continue to grow, the basil has been so tasty).  It has been a good year.  It feels excellent to produce produce.  We'll get some photos.

As complicated as life is in my thirties, the absolute simplicity of balcony horticulture is so soothing.