Today is Tomato Day. The day my family-in-laws “do” the tomatoes. We wash, boil, peel squash, jar, and boil 17 bushels of tomatoes to make sauce for the year. It’s quite the process, one I had avoided for many, many years. I don’t have anything against Tomato Day, really. Way back when I worked full time my mother-in-law to be wanted me to take a vacation day to do tomatoes with them. Uh, no. I was all about big hair, long fake nails and name brand clothes back then. I was not wasting a day off, getting up before dawn and getting covered in tomato guts. No thanks.

Then as the years went on I just didn’t participate, even when my sister law joined the fun because my brother in law didn’t want to eat sauce made from tomatoes from a can. Luckily for me my husband even though he is Italian through and through didn’t really care as long as I didn’t GOD FORBID use jarred sauce. I would never. I didn’t grow up on jarred sauce either.

In recent years my Sam decided she really liked the way Grandma's sauce tasted. We deducted it was because of the tomatoes. So it began. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. It’s kinda fun. We talk about things. We laugh. We bond over tomatoes. It’s a family tradition. Sam helps. My 9 year old niece helps now too. Even “the men” help out too twisting jars closed or lugging cases of freshly made sauce.
We are not starting too early today. Everyone’s life is busy now and things get in the way. But sauce will be made. I know my friends wanted to get involved, but this year it was a 24 hour decision that Tomato Day is upon us. So maybe next year, if I can urge the group to plan ahead a little better then I can invite others to participate. I will let you know how Tomato Day goes. Now where did I put my babushka?