THE EGGPLANTS were born here.  The peaches are from PA.  So the eggplants are grooming the peaches, teaching them about local social mores and how to be a ‘Creeknik.

Peach says, “How do Ithacans pronounce the phrase public swimming laws?”  Eggplants answer in unison, “Fascism.”

Aaaaanywayyy.  Time to pick Pristine apples.  Come on, folks.  They’re not red but they are blushing with flirtatious buzz.

Even fewer people care about these, the Yellow Transparents.  It would be nice if a few of you at least tried to care.  They’re not Honeycrisp, but life is not a bowl of Honeycrisp.

Here’s something you’ll care about:  hot peppers are now open for picking!  Farmer Allie said, “Really only the jalapeños are ready, but people will pick them all anyway.”  So that sounds like license to party.  Hot peppers are open.

The moment you’ve all been waiting for — tomato season — is kinda sorta here.  Farmer Allie:  “Don’t sound the trumpets yet, because it’s just 1 kind of beefsteak, a few romas, cherries, and heirlooms.”  Listen for trumpets in the coming weeks.

Of course you have been hearing TRUMPets for months.  All that noise can be filtered out by meditating on these lovely fairytale eggplants.  Ommmmmmmmm.

These nonpartisan zucchini and yellow squash are similarly refreshing, sauteed and drazzled with parsley-garlic drizzle.

The raspberries are ebbing somewhat — lots of pickers have been bopping through.  You can still hunt and pick.

New attraction on the farm:  The Deer Door.  Go in and out as you please.  It’s the shortcut to the veggie field.

The signage department continues its Sisyphean labor of making the farm more user friendly.

But even the best laid plans need structural reconsideration.

And even the prettiest field of flowers is temporary.  Come cut them while you can.  It is August, Dear Farmketeers, and time’s a-wasting.  Hope to see you at The ‘Creek.