Tomatoes don’t really care if your bags are unpacked, or if you’ve read the Sunday Times. They could care less if you’d rather be faggoting a seam (one of the coolest hand-sewing techniques in the world, btw), swinging in the hammock with a book, or just staring into space with a cup of coffee.
One hundred tomatoes will not be ignored.
One hundred tomatoes will flash their redness at you like a hundred shiny harlots.
They will mess with you in harlot-y, siren-y ways until you boil the water, skin them and slap ’em silly into containers of every shape and size.
One hundred tomatoes = Nine gallons to freeze + two trays dehydrating
and it only took five hours . . .