When you were a kid on road trips, did you see who could cross a state line first by leaning out of your seatbelts and extending those fingers as far as they could go? No? Me neither, but Jason still does that. There’s a bizarre sort of glory in first. Really, you’d think we’d learn something about the last fruit being the sweetest, but I’ve never heard any aphorism declaring that. It’s always, “the early bird” who gets the good stuff. But honestly, what about the worm that slept in? Lazy as he is, he’s a might bit fatter than that early worm: tasty little morsel for a late bird. But no, we still press ourselves forward out of our seatbelts, unhinging our shoulders to reach those little fingers just a bit further to grasp that first tomato. Oh! Did I mention that? Don’t get too excited. It’s just one. It will still be a couple of weeks before there are enough to blink an eye at. But that didn’t make us any less excited here on the farm. All four of us are sharing it tomorrow. A big red beautiful tomato in June. Suddenly I don’t care if the later fruit is sweetest.