I know that it's no secret how much I love the farmer's market; it truly is the highlight of my summer. It's the thing I look forward to the most once the weather starts to turn, and is a source of happiness and well being right up until Thanksgiving.
I can't even really explain why it's so nurturing to my soul to walk up and down the isle, taking in the vibrant colors and beautiful textures; the diverse display is like art.
Milani and I visit the market at least twice a week, even if it's only an excuse to get out of the house and enjoy the open air, but we manage never to leave empty handed. Lately we've been devouring peaches and nectarines. We bring some home every single market visit, and they vanish within days.
And in keeping with my grand canning plan, I canned a half bushel of peaches. They sit on the shelf, all golden and sweet in their shiny jars, patiently waiting to fulfill a winter peach craving some random day in December. I will probably can a peck more, now that I know how quickly peaches disappear in this house.
During the months that the farmer's market is open, I don't even visit the produce section of the grocery store, and we don't miss it. Chiquita Bananas and Dole Pineapples can't hold a flame to local peaches in season. Soon enough we'll be on to pears and apples, probably putting them down the hatch as quickly as the peaches.
During our market visit today, the sky was the most gorgeous powder blue, and soft white clouds drifted in a breeze that carried the unmistakeable crispness of autumn.
I can't help but feel a little sad as the end to summer draws near, but at least my market will be open until Thanksgiving, keeping me company when the first frosts blanket the lawn.
I can't even really explain why it's so nurturing to my soul to walk up and down the isle, taking in the vibrant colors and beautiful textures; the diverse display is like art.
Milani and I visit the market at least twice a week, even if it's only an excuse to get out of the house and enjoy the open air, but we manage never to leave empty handed. Lately we've been devouring peaches and nectarines. We bring some home every single market visit, and they vanish within days.
And in keeping with my grand canning plan, I canned a half bushel of peaches. They sit on the shelf, all golden and sweet in their shiny jars, patiently waiting to fulfill a winter peach craving some random day in December. I will probably can a peck more, now that I know how quickly peaches disappear in this house.
During the months that the farmer's market is open, I don't even visit the produce section of the grocery store, and we don't miss it. Chiquita Bananas and Dole Pineapples can't hold a flame to local peaches in season. Soon enough we'll be on to pears and apples, probably putting them down the hatch as quickly as the peaches.
I can't help but feel a little sad as the end to summer draws near, but at least my market will be open until Thanksgiving, keeping me company when the first frosts blanket the lawn.