You had me at pesto...

"Would you say that your pesto is the best-o? No, but it's pretty good-o."

Can you identify this quote? If you can, you and I both probably should get a life....or some new hobbies. 

Today marked the last day of the last full week of school. Tonight, my Seniors graduated. The Braves won at home. This afternoon, I made pesto.....it's awfully exciting around here.

My love affair with pesto began at Harvest Moon. I've had many-a love affair at Harvest Moon---with all the different amazing types of pizza--- but this particular night, I ordered the Roasted Rooster, which comes with pesto instead of tomato sauce. It was so good, I got a little weak in the knees.

And I haven't had pesto since then. And my life has seemed a little void. So, this afternoon, I marched out into the garden and picked some basil.

After giving it a good 'ol washin', I introduced to it to some friends....

They all fell in love, got married, and BAM--pesto was born. I should have taken a picture of the final product. I was just so excited that I couldn't control myself. Once it was done, I promptly added it to a bowl of pasta with some cherry tomatoes.....it was divine, heavenly, delisioso. Amen. 

This 'un is almost ripe for the pickin'!

These guys have probably been ready to pick for a few days. I was just too nervous to do it. I kept going out there, looking at them, touching them....picking your first tomato is a big deal, people! After a lot of fretting, contemplating, and prayer, I picked them. Now I'm afraid to eat them for fear that they aren't really ripe and I'll get sick or that one bite will kill me instantaneously....from tomato poisoning. I'll let you know what happens.

Tomorrow Scott and I are taking the youth and children from church to Six Flags. Scattered thunderstorms are expected all day. Heaven. Help. Me.