It was time for a visit to Cow Town's farmer's market yesterday. I was overdue for check the place out. Up bright. Up early. Ready to pounce on fresh veggies and fruit.
After taking a quick trip down the line of the many displays of fresh food, I stopped at one, picked up a bag and started to head toward a marvelous stack of squash.
Farmer: "You can't do that. You have to wait for the bell to ring. The bell hasn't rung so no one in the farmer's market can bag or sell any produce."
Since it was 7:15 a.m. and all of the vendors were in place and ready to sell, this was a silly rule. I you're ready for business, open the door and sell what you have to offer.
Make hay while the sun shines. Time is money. A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.
Maybe this is why farmers are always crying poor mouth: They don't practice any of those things.
At exactly 7:30 a.m. the bell rang and everyone scrambled to a booth to get the best that farmer had to offer. It was crowded. Every little old lady, every infirm gray haired old poop, every mindless person who walks around with their finger in their butt all the while blocking the progress of people who want to shop, and every escapee from assisted living had to have been there yesterday morning.
I took a deep breath. Put a smile on my face. Made the best of this geriatric experience.
Strawberries. Asparagus. Squash. One chicken tamale. One beef tamale. All things brought home.
There's a fresh turkey in the 'frige just waiting to be grilled. I'll put the turkey in the smoker for a while and then grill it for several hours. Fresh squash. Turkey. Mashed potatoes. Strawberries for dessert.
The banquet of life.
Gobble! Gobble!!!
2 comments:
That looks like one sexy feast you put together, Bob!
Oh, and that little old woman ahead of you might have been me! Yes, I have been known to have fingers inserted up my bum . . .
Gee, Cherrie, had I known I would have been looking for you. I didn't know shopping for veggies woiuld be so fun! :)
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