Frying Peppers-----------
Most Sundays are pretty darn wonderful for me, but this one was especially good. After a perfect breakfast of homemade sourdough flat breads with chevre and tomato confit, I decided to visit the Emmaus Farmers Market in search of a few dozen ears of corn for drying. I love dried corn in the winter. I'll describe the process later, when I can show you as well.
Purple String Beans------------------
Peter decided to join me, so we grabbed our market bags and hopped into the convertible. It was one of those rare early autumn days: crisp and bright, no humidity; in other words, perfect. A home-brewed band was playing some lively tunes at the market. Kids and dogs danced along with the music while parents shopped and chatted. It was just so...wholesome. A few years ago (well, a few decades ago), a college friend called Emmaus "The Stepford Town" because it's so quaint and perfect. I concur. The Stepford Town sans creepy zombie wives.
Some Local Color----------------
While we were there, my daughter called to invite me to join her in a trip to the Saylorsburg Flea Market. Bonus! My afternoon plans changed immediately, and as soon as Peter and I dropped off the box of corn and the few other items (including him), I headed north. She lives about 40 minutes away. She's so much fun to be with. I have to struggle sometimes to stop being a "mom" when I'm with her. She's a funny, worthwhile friend, a wonderful mother, and a good human being. I genuinely like her. Of course I love her, too, but that's a requirement if you're a parent. Liking is optional. We have conversations about everything. For instance, we decided it was a good thing that people don't procreate like corn; you'd really have to be careful on a windy day at a flea market, and in her words "Family reunions would be impossible. You'd have to wear a haz-mat suit." She also informed me that my interpretation of the biblical phrase "And on the seventh day, they rested" was not a directive to go braless on Sundays. We laughed until we cried.
The Flowers that Peter Bought Me--------------
I'll be sad when Thanksgiving arrives and the farmers markets and flea markets close, though I may actually get some housework done then. In the mean time, I continue to enjoy them so much, especially with a good friend or two to join me. Who knew, 31 years ago, that
my tiny little baby girl would slowly morph into such a cool woman? Or that my husband would eventually become my best friend? Life's good.
No comments:
Post a Comment