After the dive KC drove to an honor market in a farmyard just down the road from the dive site. They were looking for peas in the shell, not sugarsnap peas, real peas and there were 2 big bags (maybe the last of the season, peas don't like it hot) that they snapped up and I found some peaches. Everything was priced and there was a little tin for the money and a pad of paper for you to write down what you buy. They had sweet corn and apricots and tomatoes and a whole hutch of homemade jam, too. It felt odd but charming to park in the farmyard with no one around but a few chickens, go into an empty room in a block building and buy things with no one around. I'll stop again.
Ooh, thunder. It's been dark and darkening since I got up an hour ago and I've been hearing distant thunder (or road construction) for a bit but now it's here. Rain, too, Durwood says. I love storms, don't you?
August 26--Giotto di Bondone, The Epiphany. Mattie never felt old enough to be a mother let alone a grandmother. She swore up and down that she didn't remember being pregnant with Eldora and she refused to accept that Ellie knew what needed to be done for her to produce a granddaughter. Mattie had been married once a long time ago to a man who thought he was Ellie's father. Those days were pretty fuzzy in Mattie's memory so she couldn't say for certain if he was or he wasn't. Ellie's daughter, Claire, was a fairly interesting kid. She had a vivid imagination and a good vocabulary. She seemed to like spending time with Mattie and she asked to be told stories. Mattie loved telling stories, some of them might even be true. Mattie insisted that the little girl call her by her given name in public and only call her Grandma when they were alone.
I have absolutely no idea what that has to do with an epiphany but I like it. (cda, it makes me think of stories you've written about your Mimi.) I WILL remember to toast 4 sandwich thins and scoop out 4 bowls of fruit and take sliced cukes, cherry tomatoes, and the container of pesto hummus I made for lunches. I won't be grubbing around for carrot chips and pretzel rods for lunch this week. *nods confidently* Time to wrassle the snowblower out of the shed and roll it into the front so the fixit guy can pick it up today. Naturally I get to do this in the rain. Natch. Might as well get it over with. Good thing I won't melt.