A fiend took her lunch, off the vine

To the PIG who stole my first ripe tomato: I paid for the plant. I paid for the fertilizer. I paid for the water. I weeded the plant and cared for it. It might surprise you to know I did it for me, not you. You stole my dinner. I planned on fixing myself a BLT.

I realized it was red, but I left it on the vine to soften a little. Don't try to tell me an animal took it, there wasn't a scrap left. This is stealing. I hope you had a king-sized stomach ache. I feel I am wasting my time, the ones who do this don't or can't read the paper.

Althea Crandall

Wheeling