To the Editor:

It was about 11:30 and nearing lunch time. My wife, Karen, and I decided to have BLT's.  The only ingredient we lacked was a tomato. I volunteered to get one — an easy and simple task.  After all, for starters, there is the Orchard Creek market across the street at the Altamont train station.

My favorite tomato source is on Settles Hill Road.  This old gentleman grows just perfect both red and yellow ones — but I checked there and he was not in action yet.  Facing that reality, my next choice would have to be the farm family on the outskirts of Altamont across from the old Tanner house on the vacant corner where years ago there used to be a home but no more as natural gas accumulated in the cellar.  The two-story house was blown to smithereens.

So I turned in and went down the lumpy, dumpy drive.  They had brought in stone dust to fix the potholes but didn't do it right.  They coarsely spread the material with a tractor but failed to hand rake it smooth.  So all the ups and downs were compressed and compacted and you guessed it!

The drive is lumpy and dumpy but the vegetables are fresh and reasonably priced. A cat rests on the table in the shade among the baskets of produce and their young daughter is chief marketer, promoter, and salesman.  Money is left in a coffee jar.

Growing tomatoes is a challenge for sure. I used to grow tomatoes on the deck but not very successfully.  They get some blight, turn yellow, weaken, and die.  Depressing to watch.  So I leave it to the professionals now and focus on herbs and annuals — mostly impatiens.  I just checked on the basil.  Half are rotten and I yanked them out.  Bette, my Mom, has basil. Her plants are lush and just perfect.  I don't know how she does it.

So on the table at the end of the lumpy drive, there are two small orange, not red, barely ripe tomatoes for 75 cents each.  Sorry, not today.  No money in the jar today.

And I turned around and went back to Altamont to the certain source at the train station.  The tomatoes sure looked good.  Nice and ripe.  Deep, bright red. I asked the price.

"Two dollars."

"Yikes!"

If I brought Bette a two-dollar tomato, she'd kill me.  I said, "Thank you," and left.

Now what?  Back on the road again.  I thought maybe I'd stop by a small farm stand and gift shop on Depot Road.

I turned in the long drive and noticed right away a bunch of annuals and perennials badly wilted.  Not a good omen.  So I met a gal there watering and told her about the parched plants by the roadside.  She said she'd take care of them.  Good.  I looked around.  Only a few cukes and squash.  I left but felt better about saving some thirsty plants.

Next stop, Hannaford in Voorheesville.  Aha!  Tomatoes-on-the-vine.  Red and ripe at 99 cents. On sale at 50 percent off!  I committed to seven (two for Bette) and headed back home to Altamont by way of Indian Ladder Farms.  I wanted to check out Sunshine Farm on Picard Road.

Just before Tygert Road, I saw a "Barn Sale" sign.  What the heck!  Might as well see what he's got, so I pulled over and went through this woods on a long drive to this barn and was greeted by Tim Albright.

An immense, jolly fellow with a really full beard and smile — sort of a summer Santa and so he was.  On top of a farm wagon and leaning along one long side was a huge display of wood hand tools, just the sort I'm familiar and the Irish are so handy with.  There was a pile of re-rod, too.

I asked, "How much? “

"Make an offer."

"Five dollars."

"Sold."

Wow! Just what I needed for my projects at the house.  I enquired about the hand tools.

"Two dollars apiece!"

With no hesitation, I decimated his supply.  I laid out on the grass a pitchfork, a long flat shovel, a long flat scoop shovel, a short-handled flat shovel, a scythe with two blades, a weed whip, a machete, a garden spade, a leaf rake, a pointed shovel, a mattock, an iron rake, and a near-brand-new perennial spade which alone would sell for at least $30.

I was hoping to get a deal and was not disappointed.  Twenty dollars bought the lot.  I started the van, loaded up, waved to Santa, and off I went!  A little sanding and linseed oil — Karen will be so excited I have another project for her!

Karen was not upset I had "disappeared" and was two hours late for lunch.  But there are enough tools now to store duplicates in both the garden shed in back of the house and the "garbage" shed in front by the drive.  A tool in every house and a rabbit in every pot!  And the search time looking for tools will be reduced as Bette has things organized in her head but whereabouts unknown to all others!

Just think!  We now have the mattock my brother-in-law Dave would have died for this past weekend.  And the next time Paul tries to do a project, he won't be left with a pile of rotten handles.  I have wasted no time deploying the new arsenal.  I'm rebuilding the stone wall around the patio much to Bette's unexpected delight.  She likes to see "other" people working.

P.S. The Sunshine farmstand market did not have any tomatoes either — but who cares?  

Ed Cowley

Altamont