While most of my tomatoes are gorgeous - I have about half a dozen that look like this - split skins. What I learned was that when tomatoes aren’t watered consistently, or when you have a lot of hot weather followed by heavy rains, you get these splits.

When the tomatoes are hot and dry their skin gets thicker and tougher. When a big rain hits or you get bored and decide to really *soak* the soil one day - the tomatoes absorb the extra water and swell - resulting in split skins. As long as bugs or disease haven’t gotten into the fruit, they’re still good to eat. They just don’t look as nice.

I was reminded at first of the Bible verse about not putting new wine into old wine skins - because the old skins would burst. The metaphor was essentially about not trying to inject new ideas into old systems. As much as I hate to admit it, for people, things and items set in their ways, or created for a different time - it really is better to do away with the old and bring in the new. Like tomatoes - too much change can split the skins that have toughened up in leaner times.

I have a 1975 Chevy van that I love. I lived in it for 18 months and have driven it now for six years. I only paid $750 for it, but I’ve put about $3,000 into repairs. It runs well and I’m emotionally attached to it. But the gas gauge is broken. The transmission is beginning to slip, it needs $800 in repairs to make it street legal (brakes, a defroster and ball joints). If I put the $800 into it I’ll get another year out of it easy - and that’s a lot cheaper than a car payment. But it’s on its way out.

I have an 11-year-old Rottweiler. She has two big fatty tumors that are unsightly, although not painful. She’s slower, calmer and not as sharp and peppy as she was six years ago. I love her dearly. But she’s nearing her end. I hope to have her for at least another two to three years - even though the life expectancy of Rotties is 9-years and she’s gone more than the distance for me and is pretty darn healthy - impressing even my vet who breeds Rottweilers.

I could go down a long list of things (including self) that have hit the tough skin phase of life and are on their way out. It’s bitter-sweet. The old is ending, the new - which I haven’t even seen yet - is on the far side of my horizon. I feel like my skin is about to split. It doesn’t have to split. As with tomatoes the key to preventing splits is consistency.

My dog is healthy because her routine, her diet, her exercise is fairly consistent. My van continues to run - even though it won’t pass inspection now - because the upkeep is fairly consistent. My exercise and diet - until last week - was consistent. When I say “consistent” I mean we bounce around a lot inside our lane, but we mostly steer clear of the shoulders, to use a driving analogy. I could do better and I’m trying to.

I’ve started a more detailed calendar and am making lists. I have a routine. I stick to the plan more than I abandon it. I never thought I’d like this kind of life, let alone embrace it, but I have to admit, there’s a lot to be said for consistency.

I’m not saying “don’t experiment,” or “don’t be creative,” or anything of the sort. I’m merely advocating for finding the things in your life that will benefit you if you’re consistent with them - things like exercise, cleaning, making lists, doing chores, running errands, keeping in touch with friends and clients, getting good health care.

My wake-up call about inconsistency began when I deviated from my trainer’s program. I started working out by myself to save money to fix the van. But without her there to act as a governor - and slow down my tendency to overwork - I started a cascade of inconsistency which resulted in injuries, kicking up my fibromyalgia and a series of events that led to my workouts being totally derailed, my diet wrecked and my body in pain.

When I saw the reason for the tomato splits today I took note. CONSISTENCY works. Point taken.