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Velvet breeze round my doorstep

January 26, 2013

It is Saturday morning and the Spies are all awake, each in a different room, which can be a challenge at Spy Headquarters, as there are exactly three people and exactly three rooms. Usually there is one person with a burning desire to be elsewhere. We are like cats in that regard. And then it is impossible to be alone without being in incessant motion from room to room. I’ve been known to take that approach, in search of some solitude. You have to do it casually, as if you’ve just forgotten something next door, lest there be hurt feelings surrounding your departure. But even then, you are often found out. Or followed.

But this morning, AJ is reading in his bed and Mr. Spy is reading in his. I have commandeered the sofa, which floats, like a yacht, in the main room of our house that serves as kitchen, media room, office, and occasional table tennis tournament arena.

It snowed last night, the first real snow we had this year, a perfect glittery dry powder. Under the street lights, and later the full moon, it sparkled in the air like diamonds as we walked home from dinner at our new favorite restaurant around the corner (favorite, at least in part, because it is around the corner).

This morning, our brownstoned street is iced in white, with the rose-colored crown gleaming in the sunrise:

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That is the view from the window in front of my favorite chair. The picture doesn’t even begin to do it justice.

Most Saturdays AJ and I are out early to meet Cranky and J for a walk along the park to the green market. I’ve probably mentioned this before, but I find it ironic that after years of living in a fairly rural area, it’s not until I move to the biggest city in the country that I get to know the people who grow my food. But this morning, Cranky and J are busy, and without the added incentive of a visit, I’m finding it hard to convince me to disembark the sofa. Instead I am listening to the scrape of snow shovels on the sidewalk outside and thinking how glad I am that it’s not me and also missing it a little.

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4 Comments leave one →
  1. January 26, 2013 9:00 pm

    I’m sure there’s a Kansas version of a green market around here somewhere, I just haven’t seen it. This week I got hooked up with a woman at work who keeps chickens and brings in eggs. So as of Thursday, we have a dozen really fresh eggs. Man do they taste different — not bad but different. Makes me wonder what the hell we do to our commercial eggs.

  2. January 27, 2013 8:29 pm

    My local egg suppliers tell me that commercial eggs can sit around in refrigeration for a pretty long time.
    I’ll bet you wouldn’t miss shoveling snow even a little if you thought about the twice-weekly 1-inch snows with occasional freezing rain that can get you out there doing it over and over this time of year.

  3. January 27, 2013 9:07 pm

    I’ve been buying vegetables at summer farmer’s markets for years, but this is the first time I’ve lived somewhere that has one year round. And while I love the vegetables, it’s the meat and fish and eggs and dairy that have been the real revelations. The turkey I get from the farmstand is so much better than anything I’ve ever had before. The eggs are too, as EDJ mentioned — maybe because they haven’t been sitting around for so long, but maybe because the chickens eat better. Their yolks are much more yellow. And I love the spectrum of color that their shells take on.

    And yes, I wouldn’t miss that kind of shoveling. But as this was the first measurable show (and even then, not very measurable — less than an inch, I think), and it was so pretty, I did feel nostalgic.

  4. January 29, 2013 10:51 am

    That is a picture-perfect street. It’s nice that your greenmarket is worthwhile. I tried the one in our new town last summer and found it disappointing. Lots of seasonings and soaps but not a lot of GREEN. I agree that straight-from-the-farmer meat is much better. We’ve been part of a pig-share a few years running and it’s been great every year.

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