The tomatoes beckon, can you hear their call?

End of year has been hectic. More so than other years and I haven’t been able to pinpoint why. (Probably because every end of year is horrible and my brain immediately deletes it so as to be able to face yet another one).

School is busy, the kids are tired, the parents are demanding, it’s absolute chaos. Yet the minute I close the door of the shoebox-of-an-appartmentĀ I call home, the tomatoes beckon.

It doesn’t matter that there are onions to chop and tomatoes to skin. It doesn’t matter that there is no more room in my fridge and freezer for any more pasta sauce containers or that all my wooden spoons are starting to become permanently red-stained. All that matters is the wonderful, soothing motion of sauce-making, and the warm, homey smell of theĀ spices in the gently simmering sauce, bay leaves, pepper, oregano, a bit of ginger if I’m feeling daring.

I’ll probably have to start giving my jars of homemade tomato sauce away (would they make good Christmas gifts? I wonder…), but, until the academic year is over and there are no more tests to grade and no more anxious students/parents to contend with, I don’t think I have the necessary strength. It’s too delicious to stop.

 

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