Bushel Half Empty

While September smacks of back to school, for us Italians September means sauce. Tomato sauce to be specific.  We're never quite sure when the tomatoes will be ready for picking (my mother bristles at the thought of buying ready picked) but damn it when they are ready you had better be prepared to drop everything.
I watched my mother at 80 years old, bent over for hours along side my 82 year old dad, fondling each tomato, eyeing it for colour, the right red or orangish/yellow.  Seeing her from a distance in her purple rayon pants, the sun on her back, we might as well have been miles away in rural Italy.
My sister and I helped pick every viable tomato, stacking 6 bushel baskets into the van. Mom knits her brow, hands on her hips and declares the baskets are half empty!
Every morning for 80 years,  my mother wakes up and makes a choice.  She chooses to see the basket half empty.
How do you see your basket?