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July 26th  2011    Tim Candler

    Twenty four hours later I have what I believe is a sealed glass jar inside of which are four Tomato, juice from several dozen Tomato and hopefully nothing else. 

    But sometime in February the Artist will probably have to rush me to the emergency ward as I struggle with Salmonella or some other rod shaped bacterium.  So probably best to place the precious jar on a high and visible shelf as a reminder of an extraordinary perseverance Edmund Hillary might appreciate.  Indeed when I die I want that glass jar beside me.

     

     Then there is the issue of title.  "Toms 7/11" strikes me as a totally inadequate description of the hours spent in turmoil, worry and sweat.   Not to mention a scalded knee and something happened to the bottom of my feet, which makes walking around without shoes tricky. 

    More desperate still are the eleven remaining glass jars.  They are laughing at me, but fortunately they have been returned to the cupboard that has a door which can be closed.

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