Something is Better than Nothing (Outcrop Chronicle, Part Two)

This is part two of a blog relating the process by which Strata, Big Stone County Commissioners, and the City of Ortonville forced through an unwanted aggregate quarry project in Ortonville Township and along the headwaters of the Minnesota River. For part one, click here.

Despite clear opposition to the quarry project from the township and a sizable portion of the county as a whole, Big Stone County Commissioners voted unanimously to approve Strata’s Conditional Use Permit at their May 1, 2012 meeting. However, due to the township’s interim ordinance (which suspended the county’s jurisdictional authority), the project still couldn’t move forward.

Re-entering the scene, former County Planning and Zoning Chair and Ortonville EDA Director Vicki Oakes began working with proposed quarry site landowner Gayle Hedge, along with Strata and the City of Ortonville to devise a new plan to push the project through.

Oakes also waged a campaign of righteousness and ridicule against quarry opponents, Ortonville Township supervisors, citizens, and those “outsiders” who helped them on her blog, Quarry Talk. The blog has since been removed from the web, but her August 5, 2012 post entitled, “New Township Zoning–The Future!” is quoted and discussed here.

Hedge subdivided among family members the 500-or-so acre proposed quarry site, which abutted the city boundary, into 6 separate very interestingly-shaped parcels, each with a small portion abutting the city, and each of the new owners petitioned the city for annexation.

Annexations by ordinance of 120 acres per owner per year of property that abuts the city boundary are allowed by the state of Minnesota. Anything more than that requires the city to negotiate with the township in whose borders the land falls. Due to the clearly-expressed sentiments of township residents, bringing the township to the negotiating table didn’t seem a likely way to make the project happen, hence the subdivision.

And, while an interim ordinance can protect a township from development pushed by the county, it cannot protect them from a land-grab by an adjoining city. Once land is annexed into the city, it is no longer within the township’s jurisdiction, even if township-controlled land still surrounds the annexed parcel(s) almost entirely.

The city had recently amended their zoning rules to immediately place annexed land into the same land use category as the land it abuts–an obvious attempt to circumvent a later public hearing addressing a change of zoning on annexed parcels specifically for the Strata project.

After all, it doesn’t necessarily make sense to do zoning-by-abutment if, for instance, you’re annexing land abutting an industrial area that is destined for a golf course or housing development, or if you’re annexing land that abuts two different zoning districts. But, clearly the goal here wasn’t to make sense, it was to pave the smoothest way for Strata’s quarry project to move forward.

The rules at that October 15, 2012 City Planning & Zoning Commission hearing were as follows: 1) We’re here to discuss the rule change, and 2) We’re not here to discuss the quarry project. Those asking why the rule was being changed were referred to Rule #2. More discussion of that hearing is available here, but needless to say, the rule change passed easily.

On October 25th, the Ortonville Township Board of Supervisors hosted their own listening session and public information meeting at the New Life Baptist Church in Ortonville. The meeting was designed for members of the public to learn more about the proposed project, to ask questions, and to have better understanding of the process, as well as the township’s stance.

The meeting was attended by those on both sides of the issue as well as those who didn’t have a “side,” though at one point then-mayoral candidate Steve Berkner hijacked the mike and attempted to make himself palatable to all city voters in the room by describing to what lengths the city would go to prove that the project was safe and how it would not affect property values of the nearby residents (not many lengths, it turned out).

Then came the November 5th, 2012 public hearing on the city’s proposed annexation of the subdivided parcel–the date of which neatly coincided with the date provided in Strata’s step-by-step guide to the annexation by ordinance process, provided to then-Mayor David Dinnel and the Ortonville City Council at Vicki Oakes’ request–documents available here.

The public input process at this hearing was severely curtailed by city planning and zoning commissioners, who must’ve thought the “see no quarry, hear no quarry, speak no quarry” rule at the October 15th zoning rules change hearing made fast-track approval of Strata’s project a lot less stressful. YouTube video of that hearing, and of the public’s verbal gymnastics to avoid saying “quarry” in their testimony, is available here.

Shortly thereafter, the Ortonville City Council had their first and second readings of the annexation ordinances, and passed them all after the second reading. Everything was zipping right along according to Strata’s timeline when the township filed its objections to the annexations by ordinance (ABOs) with the State Municipal Boundaries Adjustment Unit (MBAU).

At that point, the MBAU looked at the situation more closely, and found that Gayle Hedge was still a beneficial owner of all of the parcels (having retained rights to profit from sales of aggregate on all parcels) and 5 out of 6 of the ABOs were rejected by an administrative law judge. The city and petitioners appealed that ruling, and it ended up in district court.

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In the spring of this year, District 12A State Representative Andrew Falk introduced HF 1425, which would address this troubling loophole in state annexation law by imposing a moratorium of five years before subdivided parcels could be annexed by ordinance.

The bill did not interfere with the ability of local governments to use orderly annexation (the preferred method, since all parties have a voice at the table), but it was tabled in the House Government Operations Committee on May 2nd due to its arrival late in the session and strong opposition from the League of MN Cities and Coalition of Greater MN Cities, who basically claimed that the bill would create some sort of development Holocaust in the state.

I was at that hearing (and at a follow-up in St. Cloud earlier this week), and found it somewhat amusing to hear representatives from those organizations on the one hand acting very chastened about the whole situation in Ortonville and agreeing that it was a no-good-very-bad way to go about things, and promising to help figure out how to keep it from happening again, while on the other hand fighting like heck to make sure that their member cities would indeed have the opportunity to do it again now that this exciting new loophole had been discovered for annexing large tracts of land from townships without townships having any say in the matter.

Indeed, one might question the commitment of Coalition of Greater MN Cities to chastising wayward Ortonville and their spirit-of-law circumventing ways when, later this summer, they celebrated Ortonville Mayor Steve Berkner’s participation in the attempt to kill Falk’s bill with an Excellence in Service Award. I find the quote about Berkner’s advocacy having stopped the bill from moving forward misleading at best: in fact, it was the process Berkner took part in as a council member, and then presided over as mayor that prompted this legislation in the first place, and it was the timing of the bill (late in the session) that prompted the most concern from legislators. You can hear the committee proceedings for yourself here–scroll down to Thursday, May 2nd.

(The bill isn’t dead, by the way. The Government Operations Committee is still waiting to hear more substantively from the above-mentioned organizations, who are charged with negotiating with the MN Association of Townships to come up with some kind of consensus on how to close this loophole and/or address what were termed by committee members as abuses–yes, that’s right, abuses of the annexation process like that perpetrated in Ortonville.)

So, with the annexation decision of five out of the six parcels still in court (actually the parties have recently asked the judge not to rule) and potential state legislation that could remedy Ortonville Township’s plight, why would the township board do a deal for orderly annexation now?

Well, you have to go back to that 120 acres per owner per year law. You see, the City has already successfully annexed one parcel for Strata’s project–and that parcel is the core of the quarry footprint. Next year, the city can simply annex another one or two of the parcels (so long as they don’t go over the 120 acres rule–since Hedge is still deemed to be a beneficial owner of all of the parcels). In another year, another one or two parcels, and pretty soon the city and Strata have got it all anyhow.

And what does the township get in this scenario? Not a blessed thing.

On the other hand, orderly annexation, as you’ll recall, requires that all parties come to the table. And that gives the township the opportunity to get something instead of nothing.

And what of the legislation? These things move slowly, and as much as township residents might hope some remedy can be made, they are also cognizant of the oft-repeated mantra of those committee hearings: “Nothing can be done to help the situation in Ortonville now. The best we can do is to avoid similar abuses in the future.”

So, the choice for Ortonville Township is a losing one either way. They could have fought to the bitter end, which would more than likely have been bitter indeed, with nothing to show for their years of work and expense, or they could do a deal and get something. In organizing, we call that a strategic loss. It sucks; it ain’t what we wanted, but it ain’t nothing.

That is not to say there is no more role for citizen input, protest, and potentially even legal challenges from adjacent landowners, but the township board has fended this thing off as well and as long as they could. I’ve certainly seen their dedication in this nearly two years’ fight, and the idea that this is a happy resolution of all those past differences with Strata and Bill LaFond rings about as false as it comes.

There’s plenty more to this story, both in the documentation and in the stories from county residents who fought this fight. I want to give special thanks to Sally Jo Sorenson at Bluestem Prairie (and Big Stone Bolder)–many of the documents, stories, and testimony would never have been publicly available without her work.

Big Stone Strata-gy (Outcrop Chronicle, Part 1)

This week’s Ortonville Independent features a front page above-the-fold article declaring “Agreement Reached on Big Stone Quarry Project,” in which Strata’s Business Development Manager, Bill LaFond, is quoted as being “very pleased to have resolved any past differences with the Township,” and that they “look forward to continuing to build a positive relationship with them and their citizens for years to come.”

I’m going not very far out on a limb here to suggest that the glaring omission of any comment from Ortonville Township’s board or residents makes this an obvious Strata-crafted piece of PR spin, and that the orderly annexation deal they’ve struck is not a route the township took happily or willingly.

In case you’re coming newly to this subject, or are in need of a refresher, the following two-part blog post details much of that Strata quarry project process up to the present time, and provides significant commentary and documentation of what it actually looked like on the ground in Big Stone County.

It also belies the assertion that a “positive relationship” between Strata Corporation and Ortonville Township is likely or even possible.

As a community organizer and resident of Big Stone County, I have followed this process closely, attending nearly every meeting and public hearing dealing with the Strata quarry project on both county and city levels (and many on the township level), as well as state-level hearings on legislation designed to curb some of the abuses of authority that plagued the process here (and are likely to show up elsewhere in the state if legislation is not passed).

The proposed Strata aggregate quarry project in Ortonville Township, along the headwaters of the Minnesota River, first came to light in a January 5, 2012 public meeting of the Big Stone County Planning and Zoning Commission, headed up by then-chair (and Ortonville EDA Director) Vicki Oakes.

Township residents had heard rumors of a potential new quarry project for some months, but were consistently assured by county employees that it would “never happen.” Landowners adjacent to the proposed quarry project site were never contacted by Strata Corporation, although Strata spokesmen assured them during hearings that while, “no one wants a quarry in their backyard,” the corporation would prove to be a “good neighbor.”

An early public hearing on the proposed Strata aggregate quarry project, at Clinton’s Memorial Building.

Those early hearings took place in Clinton–about ten miles north of the township in question, and despite majority opposition to the project from crowds that at times held 100 citizens (Big Stone County’s population is a little over 5000 people), and vocal concerns about property values, health and safety issues, and environmental impacts, the project was recommended to the Big Stone County Commission without requiring an Environmental Impact Statement (EIS).

The decision to require only a Strata-prepared Environmental Assessment Worksheet (EAW) was made before the public was aware of the project, and the Planning and Zoning Commission steadfastly refused to consider altering that requirement even under heavy pressure from residents.

Instead, representatives from Strata were invited to make lengthy presentations (complete with video of blasting rock and dust clouds) at the beginning of meetings, essentially attempting to “sell” the project  to an incredulous public, and pushing the time for public comment late into the evening hours on school and work nights.

At one point, protesters from the county and the region marched down Clinton’s Main Street holding signs protesting the probable destruction of granite outcrops that give Big Stone County its name. Of course, because we are in Big Stone County, the protesters politely left their signs outside the Memorial Building when the hearing began.

Sensing the direction of these hearings and heeding the concerns of their residents, frustrated with the number of undesirable projects their tiny township had been saddled with over the years, the Ortonville Township Board of Supervisors passed an interim ordinance in early February. The ordinance blocked further development in the township as the board studied the issue and considered developing their own land use plan and planning and zoning commission.

The ability of townships (and other small municipalities) to pass an interim ordinance and exercise what’s know as “local control” is a fundamental piece of Minnesota’s democracy, and it can protect citizens from large scale and potentially harmful development, often by people who don’t actually live there.

That same spring, Clark Mastel, a second generation rancher on the land being considered for the quarry, made headlines by speaking out about the project, and about his initial meeting with Strata’s Bill LaFond, who first visited the outcrops area masquerading as a guy looking for grass for his cattle (and not, as was later revealed, rock for his crushers).

An upright, good-looking cowboy getting so much press didn’t sit too well with Strata, and so they drafted a letter for Mastel’s landlord to have him sign, wherein Clark would apologize for being a bur under the saddle of Strata and the township and pull a 180 on his sentiments about how well his cows and Strata’s blast-and-crush operation would get along.

Instead, Mastel walked out with the letter and shared it with allies, and it soon made headlines around the region. You can read the letter and listen to public hearing testimony from Mastel captured by Bluestem Prairie’s Sally Jo Sorenson here on the Big Stone Bolder blog.

Meanwhile, Ortonville Township Supervisors invited each of the Big Stone County Commissioners to meet with them and discuss township and resident concerns, the interim ordinance, and to ask commissioners to refrain from voting (or to vote no) on Strata’s Conditional Use Permit, since the county no longer held jurisdictional authority. I was present at all of those meetings save that with Joseph Berning, who represents the district in which Ortonville Township lies.

(Later that fall, according to sources involved in tallying election results, Berning won re-election to the Big Stone County Commission by default because so many of those who wrote in his challenger’s name forgot to blacken the oval next to it. Berning has since been named chair by his fellow commissioners.)

One particularly poignant moment from those township-commissioner meetings came when Township Supervisor Al Webster read to Commissioner Brent Olson from one of Olson’s own books–a passage wherein Olson praised townships as the only truly legitimate and representative form of government. Webster then asked Olson if he truly believed what he’d written; a question that Olson did not satisfactorily answer until his vote on the project’s Conditional Use Permit.

Another interesting piece of information related in this series of meetings by then-Commission Chair Walter Wulff was that the county receives a substantial yearly bonus from their insurance company for “not getting sued.” There was concern amongst the commissioners that Strata would pursue legal action should the commission vote against the recommendations of the Planning and Zoning Board, causing the county to lose that money.

Part two of this post relating the process by which Strata, Big Stone County Commissioners, and the City of Ortonville forced through an unwanted aggregate quarry project in Ortonville Township and along the headwaters of the Minnesota River is available here.

Cleaning Up the Grove

I started the process of cleaning up the grove today. It’s a little bit of a joke because all I did was take a five gallon bucket and go for a stroll.

It didn’t take long before my bucket was full, and I was returning to the point of entry to dump the bucket full of rusty cans, broken bottles, and small car parts into our garbage cart.

And then I went in again. And again. And again. There were some neat unbroken bottles in there, as well as a 1964 Minnesota license plate. But, it comes to a point where you have to quit collecting and start cleaning.

After about five buckets-full, it started to sprinkle, and I decided I’d done enough trash-picking for today, but I couldn’t help going back in to simply walk around and look. The grove is old, and it has deteriorated to the point where there is a) a lot of buckthorn, and b) a lot of dead, downed trees that make it hard to pick a trail. But it’s still a “woods,” and being a woman who grew up more-or-less in the woods, there’s still that attraction to walking amongst the trees.

Closer to the road (and farther from the outbuildings), there’s not so much trash. I mostly took that route by default because I was trying to get around the tangle of downed limbs. But then I wove my way back toward the farmstead, and found the worst of the smaller trash (there are some bigger car parts and machinery chunks in one area I didn’t get to) right near the old monitor-roof hog barn we’re considering restoring. Diet Pepsi cans galore, lots of old bottles, and some rusted-out pesticide containers.

Somehow, I think the MPCA might frown on this sort of disposal these days.

There’s a part of me that is truly galled by the trashing of old farm groves. But I don’t know anyone who has purchased an older farm and not had to contend with this sort of problem (unless the people who lived there before them cleaned it up).

There wasn’t an organized system of waste collection nor recycling when this trashing took place–the grove was where stuff that didn’t decompose got tossed (and maybe where stuff that did decompose was tossed–though food “waste” was fed to the chickens or hogs). I’m not finding much plastic, after all–most all of it is metal and glass from at least 20 years ago–and much of it is quite a bit older than that.

Old habits die hard, after all–if grandpa threw all his cans in the grove and there’s already a pile of cans in the grove, well, then chances are you’re going to throw your can in the grove, too. I’ve heard from some families who’ve spent years taking trash out one section at a time while they also clear out the dead trees, control the buckthorn, and plant new trees to take the place of the fallen. It’s an ongoing process.

So, my forays into grove-cleaning today were pretty insignificant in the face of what it’s going to take to really de-trash the place. But a journey of a thousand miles starts with one step, and it was a lovely day for a walk in the woods.

 

 

Bringing in the Last

Yesterday afternoon, I dumped all the potted annual herbs into the wheelbarrow and brought in all the tender houseplants from the back deck.

Thunder was grumbling, and days of rain and potentially even a little snow are in the forecast. I didn’t want to haul in frigid, heavy, sopping wet pots at the last moment. So, amid rumbling and flashing and the first spatter of drops, the season of patio plants ended abruptly.

A little later, a bolt of lightning splintered a tree by the kitchen, nearly causing me to spill boiling tea-water on my foot. Then wind forced open the mudroom door, hail flew in with a clatter, and THEN the weather radio sounded a warning.

There is no “fall garden” this year other than what’s out in the older beds already, mature, planted in spring. Some of the newly-built raised beds are filled with a combination of “black dirt” (which is farm field soil, stripped off so that excavators can get to the gravel underneath) and barn cleanings–a mix of straw bedding and goat manure. I combine the two because black dirt from an industrially-farmed field, while gorgeous-looking to those who garden in less-than-ideal soil, is nevertheless a dead medium. There aren’t any worms, no organic matter. When it’s dry, it blows like the Dirty Thirties; when it’s wet, it pools and runs to gullies.

I see whole big fields of it in places–fall cultivated bare to allow for earlier spring planting, and I wonder how much soil that farmer will lose before they wise up to what their grandparents learned the hard way.

A couple of the newly-filled raised beds are serving as winter nurseries to perennials I dug from the yard in Clinton–I don’t want to lose what I worked on if the house should sell after the ground freezes, and I don’t want to ask for stipulations about digging plants in the spring. A couple beds have asparagus crowns dug last weekend from a plot now outside the new garden boundaries. Some of the new beds still stand empty, and I guess they might stay that way till spring.

I had the idea I’d get all the beds filled and the newly-defined garden fenced this fall, but the list of what can be accomplished before freeze up is shortening along with the days. I also remember thinking I’d get a plot tilled and the small high tunnel erected down on the south lawn. The frame and plastic for that is still in the shop in town.

Yesterday evening, casting around for dinner ideas, I decided to make lasagna–not because I was particularly in the mood for it (it was excellent!), but because I could combine the making of it with processing the rest of the ripe tomatoes in the house. I also had some soft goat cheese in the fridge from a local farm tour last week, and that’s not something you let go to waste.

Now, with the weather tending toward chill and damp, and the fact that some animal (probably a squirrel) is competing with me for the last of my lovely heirloom tomatoes, I am planning to cut them down and bring a wheelbarrow-full to the chickens. If critters are going to eat the last few, I ought to get something in return (theoretically speaking, since my hens have not yet begun to lay eggs).

I don’t think I’ve ever pulled healthy tomato plants before a frost, but their production is waning, and I’d like to bare those beds and get compost worked in sooner rather than later. Another first: two days ago I pulled all the sweet pepper plants but two–again, waning production and a desire to beef up the soil organic matter before winter closes in.

Yes, and to make room for the garlic that still needs planting, though I have it on good authority that with a power drill and ice auger, it’s possible to plant it in December, even.

It’s a bit of a relief to be bringing in the last–to know that the constant inflow of baskets and boxes and buckets of produce is coming to an end, and what we’ve got is it until the first greens of spring. Sure, there’ll be a few more trips to the farmers market for winter squash and onions, to the orchard for apples. We’ve got currants and elderberries in the freezer that are destined for jam, jelly, and syrup, the canning of which will warm the house in the chilly damp weeks ahead.

But it seems clear from the forecast, and from the geese gathering by hundreds in the sloughs, that the Time of Too Much Eggplant is coming to a close, and the stored-up Feast of Fall is about to begin.

Putting By: Tomato Soup

This wasn’t a great tomato year for us, if by great tomato year I take the measure of the years on the CSA and market farm in southeast South Dakota, where 80-100 plants provided plenty for members, market, and for my own canning projects, or even if I look back to the past couple of seasons in Big Stone County, where the smaller but still substantial plantings meant there was plenty to share.

This was more of a getting-by tomato year. The garden at Clinton house was flooded out repeatedly, then drought took hold and weeds took over. Along about midsummer, I started referring to it more honestly as the “weed patch” and not as a garden. The tomatoes I planted there are stunted and spindly and barely producing one fruit every couple of weeks.

The saving grace of that garden weed patch is all of the volunteers that have sprung up from last year–mostly small varieties like Santorini and Old Pink Plum–tough, wild, and plentiful. So, I am getting maybe 5-10 pounds a week out of there–a pittance, really, but enough to discourage me from brush-hogging the whole thing.

 

Out here on the farm, I put in six heirlooms (Stupice, Speckled Roman, Japanese Black Trifele, Big Rainbow, Louis’ Oxheart and Hungarian Heart) and that is really saving my butt. Yes, we had to buy tomatoes for an earlier sauce project, but now we are harvesting enough throughout the week to do a batch of something on the weekend, and so the jars are filling up. Considering the ongoing remodeling and landscaping projects that’ve been our primary focus this summer, it’s probably a good thing we aren’t pulling in 100lbs of tomatoes every 4-5 days.

Once we had enough of John’s spaghetti sauce put by (three batches–or nearly three cases), I turned to one of my standby recipes: tomato soup. I started making this during a heavy tomato year, when I was casting around for what more to do with the abundance, and it proved to be so delicious, convenient, and popular that I now make it every year.

The basic rule comes from 4th edition of Putting Food By, Janet Greene, Ruth Hertzberg, and Beatrice Vaughan’s Bible of canning, freezing, curing, and storing food. I’ve written about this recipe before, but I’ve made some additions to the recipe and fine-tuned the method to fit my schedule, so I’m giving it another post.

I always at least double the recipe–this is one where, if you’re going to invest the time, you might as well really go for it. This is also a recipe that requires a pressure canner–so borrow a neighbor’s or dust yours off if you haven’t been using it.

First off, I fill an 18-quart roaster full of tomatoes–all ripe or very close to it. Really small tomatoes can go in whole, and bigger ones with large cores should be cut up and have the cores and any blemishes removed. I set the roaster to 225 and let them cook overnight–stirring once or twice if I get to it.

The next morning I turn the roaster off and let it cool a bit before running the resulting stew through my tomato strainer to remove seeds and skins (I think this works better for getting more of the juice than putting the tomatoes through raw). As the juice comes through, I have a 16 quart kettle set up on the stove to start it simmering.

The last bowl of tomato juice to come through the strainer gets saved back and put in a smaller (8 quart) stockpot, into which go (chopped) 6-8 sweet peppers–green and/or red or whatever you have (if you are using the big bell peppers, you can cut that down to four), 4-6 yellow onions, a couple to a few cloves of garlic, and 4-6 good-sized stalks of celery (leaves and all if you are using home-grown). I also usually add a handful of parsley and basil leaves to the pot.

At this point I add (also cut up) any tomatoes that escaped the roaster on the first round, but have magically got to ripeness overnight. It’s not necessary to add more tomatoes, but at this point of the season, I find myself simply trying to cut down on the amount of produce building up in the kitchen. If you have them, you might as well use them.

Cover the pot of mixed vegetables and tomato juice and bring to a boil, then simmer until soft. Cool (either naturally, or put the pot in an ice bath and stir), then put through the strainer and add the bulk of the veggie “cocktail” juice to the bigger pot of tomato juice you’ve got simmering. Save a cup or so back for the next step.

In a small mixing bowl, combine 1 1/2 cups sugar, 2 tablespoons salt, and 14 tablespoons cornstarch, then add six tablespoons white vinegar and blend into a paste. Using the cooled juice (it MUST be cool) you saved back from the last step, add enough to the paste to make it pourable, then drizzle the cornstarch blend into the big pot of soup, stirring continuously until it is all blended. (If you forget to save juice back–either to simmer the mixed veggies or to blend with the cornstarch–you can use water instead).

Heat the soup to boiling (not forgetting to stir it often to avoid scorching or cornstarch clumping) and ladle into clean quart jars leaving 1 1/4″ headroom (don’t skimp on headroom–it will boil over if you do). Clean rims, affix caps and rings, and pressure process at ten pounds for 35 minutes. The longer processing time (5 more minutes per batch than in the original recipe) is due to the addition of celery, which in my opinion is really central to making this taste like tomato soup instead of a thin, slightly sweetened pasta sauce masquerading as soup.

At this scale, you should end up with about 12 quarts (a case) of soup.

There are other potential variations of method with this recipe–if I have time and don’t have quite a full roaster of tomatoes, I add all the mixed veggies to roast with the tomatoes on the first round. It saves time on the second day of the process, but typically I am washing and throwing the tomatoes in the roaster in a spare moment the night before I plan to can, and I don’t have time to gather, wash, and prep all the other veggies at the same time.

You could also do the tomatoes in the oven, or do the whole darn thing in one day on the stove top, but this requires more time and attention throughout the day than using the overnight roasting technique. In the end, do it the way that best fits into your kitchen and your schedule. Just don’t skimp on headroom and processing time/pressure.