…in which the local-food movement is colonized by a corporation. It’s a huge Betty Crocker thing. For Sweetest Day, get it? GET IT?
Haven’t done one of these for a while. It seems the only caption that applies is: The glory of everything.
Garlic scapes = pesto fodder. So glad to be back in the world.
Amid the throngs of suburbanites, a demonstration. Because sure, there’s PLENTY of parking.
Finally, sun. Finally, spring. Happy Easter to all.
Where does the time go? When does the spring arrive?
Something a little different from the buskers, today. That washtub bass sounded pretty sweet.
Haven’t done one of these for a while. Today’s theme: The good ol’ days. Me: So what does sassafras tea taste like? Seller: About what you’d expect. Me: So …boiled bark? Seller: Yeah. No sale, but amused.
Been holding off on these; they just don’t taste like anything but cool weather to me. Alas, their time has come. Four bucks per stalk. Added: A terrible photo of a typical street-vendor item. I see this stuff everywhere. Every so often I read a column by some earnest doofus, wondering why African Americans don’t […]