it's a great life, if you don't weaken (matociquala) wrote,
it's a great life, if you don't weaken

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the winds are crying remember me through the holy silence of the desert and the sea

Today is the day we choose scutwork.

The farmer's market is in full swing. I got there too late to get any sheep's milk yogurt (alas! It will have to wait for next Saturday now.) but I did score the following--

1 loaf of holiday fruit bread (which I have not tried before) from the bakers that also make the really good olive bread.
1 cherry chocolate scone for tomorrow's breakfast

2 "Violette di Firenze" heirloom eggplants, which are fated for parmigiana
purple heirloom stringbeans

red gooseberries (We determined that red gooseberries come from brown geese, and green gooseberries come from white geese.)
white currants
three pounds of peaches (two pounds of these have been converted into peach ginger sorbet and are freezing in the you know, freezer now)
early gold plums

2 leeks
2 ears of silver queen corn

Two weeks ago, it was nothing but squash and greens...

I thought about buying a bouquet, but I was on foot, so didn't.

The rest of my day has consisted of cleaning the kitchen, making that sorbet (I packed the peaches poorly, and a bunch of them bruised on the way home), doing laundry, and starting to clean out my bedroom. Two more loads of laundry to retrieve and fold once they're dry, and then I have to do the "work" part of my day: a short-short story needs written, and so does a column, and an interview needs to be answered, and then I owe leahbobet a first read on a novelette.

Man, my feet hurt.

Ahhh, the glamourous life of the writer. *g*
Tags: quotidiana, the glamour!

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