It’s finally happened! The tomatoes have ripened — not all the varieties, but Sungolds and a few Romas. I confess, I’m one of the those snobbish types. I never buy tomatoes off-season. They simply do not measure up.

As long as I’m confessing, I may as well admit I never find time or inclination to properly care for the plants. Oh, I could tell you what to do, but rarely heed my own advice.

The only reason it works for me is that I over-plant. I covet other peoples’ plants, all tidy and trimmed. My friend Sharlee traveled in Italy several years ago. She reported that everybody grows tomatoes in the same spot year after year. They stake them with a flat bed, spring-like contraption held a couple feet off the ground by four end posts. Every year in early spring I vow to rig something similar, but you know how good intentions are!

There is plenty of opportunity to observe nowadays. I seem to be stuck in traffic endlessly. Recently, on State Road near the bottom of the Edgartown Road, I saw a baby in a stroller carefully feeding the Bailey’s chickens. They were incredibly tame and seemed accustomed to handouts right along the road.

The Queen Anne’s lace is spectacular this year. The huge field across from the Allen sheep farm is covered with it. It is particularly nice with the true blue chicory flowers. That chicory is amazing. It pops up in the most unexpected places. It is blooming happily in the cracks between the surface of Beach Road and the seawall right before the bridge.

I let my radicchio go to seed as it produces the same flower. It is a cousin of the wild chicory. That blue color is rather rare in the summer gardens. The house plant plumbago is one I can recall. It’s nice in large containers.

The tiny strip of land between the bike path and the Edgartown-Vineyard Haven Road right past the roundabout is so cheerful with its mass of cosmos. Hope no one drives over it!

I’ve noticed trumpet vine everywhere. The yellow ones are nice along South Road. A large orange one has threaded its way into a cedar tree behind the Little House Cafe.

I’m happy to report I finally pulled all the onions and garlic. Both were very successful this year. They should last way into spring.

I planted a few things in their now-empty beds. Green beans and cucumbers went into one, and skunks promptly dug them up the next night. Honestly, how does one keep any sort of good humor? I’m baffled that they wanted hard, not-yet-germinated seeds.

The good news . . . I seeded turnips, orach and spigarelli. The turnips were up in three days. Wow! That has to be a record. I’m hoping for some fall greens within a month.

Violet and I shared our first artichoke. There are a few more coming along. We wondered who was the first person brave and resourceful enough to try them. Hmm. There’s something with fibers that could choke us — let’s scrape our teeth along the petals. At any rate, we were tickled to have one of our very own.

Holy sunflowers! The box outside of La Choza is something to write home about. By the way, best and fastest food ever!

I picked my first blackberry from canes I purchased and planted two years ago. At the first taste, I was magically transported by way of memory to the side of a mountain in Rixford, Pa. My Grandma Kate often took me berry picking. She made incredible blackberry pies. I would never have the self-control to pick enough for an entire pie. How come folks say “Easy as pie!” It’s not.

While attending North Texas State University in 1967, my roommates and I developed a friendship with three young Lebanese men. As it turned out, these friendships deepened around the time of the Six-Day War. As you can imagine, some interesting discussions ensued.

For the first time in my young life, I was challenged by a completely different world view.

As I’ve learned over the years, there are not two sides to a conflict but three — the third is the truth.

As we remember, that war ended in a devastating loss for the Arab world — the Gaza Strip, the West Bank, the Golan Heights, and part of the Sinai. So here we are almost 50 years later with yet another Middle East crisis.

What a world! I’m eternally grateful to live in this safe beautiful place.