If Grandma Harken had known beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was going to die tomorrow, she would still have staked up the tomatillos and harvested the beans. The roadrunner ran for the open doorway, and the mockingbird fluttered, dodging falling stone. Two places lying close together, and sometimes you put your foot through one and into the other. Wolf. “I suppose I better try not to die,” she said after a little while. The Tomato Thief Not-so-fun fact: The ripe tomato fruit is generally okay for dogs to eat in moderation, but the tomato plant, which contains tomatine and solanine, is highly toxic to dogs. That was someone a little more like Grandma Harken than either of them were like fully human folk. The dragon swallowed, and then there was a crack like thunder. That was immense power and vulnerability, all at once. I’ll try to sleep more once I’ve stood off my tomato thief. She stomped down and found a nearly ripe tomato, which she yanked off the vine and took inside. The u/TheTomatoThief community on Reddit. From the doorway, the roadrunner and the mockingbird looked in. Thank you. The hillside was no longer a small rise but a large one, cleft in two, with a narrow stone defile between them. You got a name you can tell me?”, “And I’m Grandma Harken. He had been captured not long after Marguerite. Q: I live in an apartment building with four units and one shared private patio. The Tomato Thief Children's Books. The figure bent down, and came up with something in its hand. I was a little pizzzed, but then realized it was pretty darn funny. Guess it’s time to go pay a call on the Mother of Trains.”. It dyed the rails rose and chrome. It had made a lot of big money men back east furious. She got up the morning after Eva visited and went out to the garden. (Privately Grandma suspected that was nothing like his name, but she wouldn’t have given her real name to the cold-king either.) But she’d also known her mother for a very long time, and she recognized make us both snappish as an olive branch. Some people said that she lived out there because she liked her privacy, and some said that it was because she did black magic in secret. Ursula Vernon is the winner of the Hugo, Nebula, and Mythopoeic Awards. “Not really. The resulting plant wouldn’t be up to her standards, but it would still bear a damn fine tomato. She’d been a trifle worried about that. She reached into her mouth and pried the silver cuff out of her tongue. “Ah, hell,” said Marguerite, somewhere off to her left. I keep meaning to sit and read this again (now that I’m not sneaking glances at the PDF while pretending to be productive at work), but my brain keeps gleefully shouting “train priests!” and cackling madly. Then, as evening fell, she brewed herself up a pot of cowboy coffee, with the grounds still in the pot. “But I’m starting to, I think.”. Mientras lo leía me imaginaba un puesto de bisutería en un bazar en Marruecos, que no por pequeño tiene menos capacidad de dejarte pasmado descubriendo nuevos y maravillosos detalles sin parar. The cold-king blinked in the sudden light. It did not fight back but squirmed against her, trying to escape, leave a trail of slime like a slug over her paws. This time she went over the garden practically on her hands and knees, but she could not figure out where the tomatoes might have gone. She was never born a shapechanger, not looking like that. She caught the cold-king’s arm and tugged at it, fierce and ineffectual. There was trash around the outside. Grandma Harken took one out and laid it on a stone, then stepped back. She sat down in the rocking chair with the coffee mug in one hand and prepared to wait. It was a hare, but it looked unfinished. By the time the sun came up, Grandma Harken was hot and thirsty and tired. baking dish. The Tomato Thief. Go find some other meat. They needed staking. And Grandma Harken, who had been hunched over, searching for a weapon, dropped back to all fours, her body twisting into a shape at once forgotten and familiar. “At least I’ll get one more night in my own bed,” she said. She didn’t think she could stand up, but she wasn’t done yet. It was hard to imagine her being snappish about anything. Bring to a simmer, reduce the heat to low, cover the pot & cook for 40 minutes. Grandma Harken’s hand didn’t waver on the shotgun, but her mind was off and running like a jackrabbit. To hold a beast that size, they must have been bolted to the center of the earth itself. The roof had fallen in on one side and the tops of the walls had the slumped-pottery look of weathered clay. Most of the time she got by with tea and honey and cornmeal, same as everybody else. She hadn’t been all that good with her own baby, and Eva had been as good and placid and easy a child as any born. Sleeps With Monsters Sleeps With Monsters: Stolen Tomatoes and Undead Deer. She was old but her claws were still sharp. “You can wait ‘til the owls roost, if you want,” said Grandma. It seemed important to talk to fill the sudden silence. It winked at her, and then it passed on the far side of the tracks and vanished completely. Grandma Harken could see them if she looked—the shadow of a palo verde tree that fell a handspan too short, a place where, for an instant, there were two moons in the sky. “Sounds interesting, but what do you need with the Mother of Trains?”, “I could go over every inch of the desert and miss it if somebody folded the world up the wrong way,” she said. She struck the hare hard and rolled it over, biting at its throat. Murder was not out of the question. There were still small ridges here and there. This summer I planted one cherry tomato plant, one strawberry plant, and some radishes. 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