bounty

Lunch...

...and supper.

Glorious weekend! Barefoot and fancy-free. Just the way I like it. The Perfect Summer Day (no humidity, blue skies) is so rare in this town that when it makes an appearance - on the weekend especially - you'd be foolish not to throw your arms open wide, cancel any plans that require being indoors for longer than 30 minutes, and just get outside and play. Which is what we did. Unfashionable tan lines be damned.

An early morning trip to the farmer's market for the last of the berries, the first of the corn and the freshest, skins-peeling-off potatoes I ever did see. I am happy to note our little market is vastly improved this year in terms there being more actual farmers and fewer resellers. There seems to be more of that around town too: Woodbine and Weston are both growers-only.

Meanwhile, our teeny-tiny vegetable patch is putting out tomatoes and basil faster than we can eat them. But I'll never complain: I'd happily eat fresh pesto and boconcini breakfast, lunch and dinner. Which I sort of did. Oh happy days.

I've said it before: I am no green thumb. But even a non-interventionist gardener like myself can't stop sweet potato vine and million bells from fulfilling their luscious destiny....



Giddy with summer love though I am, I am also a little bit dark on the inside. I enjoyed - three times this weekend - roasted corn on the cob with real butter and lots of salt, all the while trying to ignore the harbinger of fall that the first crop of corn is. I'm concerned but not yet preoccupied with summer's end. It's the arrival of the butternut squash that sends me into a tailspin.