Our glorious Farmers' Market has opened. This past Wednesday, we strolled freely through the two block area as vendors were setting up and I was able to snap some tasty shots! Everything looks splendid.



This is our favorite young baker. She lives and works in a location in a very small but nearby town. Her lunches are simple and divine; her baked goods heavenly yet sinful. After Ed left and I was headed to the Y to work out I nabbed a key lime shortbread for myself. Don't tell.



Now here's a luscious treat! But the price is prohibitive, at least the first day. I may not be able to resist next time. Thankfully we have strawberries and rhubarb to use up and I've just done that by making a Strawberry-Rhubarb Betty. Cherries may be next.
As a child, growing up in Grandma's house, I was well aware of the scrumptious pie cherries and spent many an hour climbing the two trees we had to fill the colander with the fine fruit. The pie doesn't interest me so much but the cherries, oh, the cherries. Somehow putting the taste of a pie cherry into my sensory bank, along with the memory of young freedoms and climbing the trees, makes a grand way to begin a day.



Bread is the substance of life, is it not? And, this sampling of a full counter's array, was a few loaves lighter when we departed.



This particular double spaced display is our favorite. It's not just for appearances though. Yesterday we were out in the neighborhood (OK, we live in the country and 4 miles away is still the neighborhood), getting straw for the adoptAPLooza at the shelter today, and the farm we went to is next to the gardens run by the folks with this display. They do their gardening by hand once they have the dirt turned over for planting season. Sure enough 3 or 4 of them were out already, weeding, checking plant growth, watering if need be, and clearly, in touch with Nature.
It was so peaceful to watch, however briefly. Each plant received some attention. The workers, who we see on Wednesdays and Saturdays, moved carefully so as not to disturb anything. They weren't chatting or looking around. There was no loud music blasting from the back up a pickup truck. It was solemn, appreciative, thankful effort.
It makes me wonder.
That's it. It makes me wonder.
Have a blessed day.