It snowed on Saturday and then rained all day today. I helped paint our new building this morning and then took off to go to the farmer's market. The farmer's market has become such a big part of how we eat, that I've learned that I have a rough time making food all week when I can't get there, so I went even thought I signed up to help paint. (I took an extra long time, though and when I got back... they were all done! I've got to say I was happy about that.)
It was raining HARD by the time I made it, and all the vendors were huddled in he center of their awnings or tents. Everyone had the cleanest carrots and parnsips ever, because they'd been rained on all the way to Ballard! (I went to a farmer I didn't recognize, and just as he handed me my bag of food, he grabbed a parsnip off of the pile, and tossed it in, then gave me a meaningful look that I found very difficult to interpret through his beard and rain gear. I gave him a meaningful look back that was meant to communicate "Gee, thanks! What a treat!" and headed back into the rain.
I walked past the fisherman and sighed. There are these great guys who sell wild, troll caught salmon and halibut and cod and other things. I stopped eating animals, though, including fish, and I wondered if they'd notice that I haven't been buying from them in months. I walked by and one of the fishermen's friends who was standing beneath a big green umbrella remarked "There goes a real northwesterner; no umbrella or hat!" The fisherman (they all are Italian, and therefore remind me of home. They smile and are charming and have big fat fingers. I wish they sold seaweed or something!) said "where" and the friends said "She just walked on by."
I smiled, and asserted to myself that I'm a real NorthEASTerner, but at this point who can tell.
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