Blue Skies And Rain Clouds

What a metaphor for my life really.  First, let me explain that yesterday while on the phone with my husband, there was a sudden commotion, and he quickly told me he had to go.  At first I thought perhaps he had been called by a higher up, but realized soon after that no, my husband was in a bunker waiting for an all clear.  My heart raced a bit, but I was glad he was okay.  Then last night I went out to listen to some rock bands and go dancing.  I crawled into bed after 5 this morning and had to be up and out no later than 9.  

So, I don't know if it was the exhaustion or what.  But it was a beautiful day, blue skies, and I am glad I was wearing my sunglasses.  As I was walking around the farmer's market my eyes welled up and I just wanted to sit and have a good old fashioned cry.  I got to my CSA farm's booth and they had these strawberries and I kept thinking that this is what he's missing.  I'd never gone to the farmer's market by myself, and it suddenly seemed a lonely and overwhelming place. 

I picked up the strawberries along with red leaf lettuce and green leaf lettuce, 2 bunches of radishes (to be spread with butter and sprinkled with fleur de sel as a snack), some spinach, some arugula (all large, not "baby"), and some broccoli.  I had grabbed some cash and so I walked about, eventually laden down with sour cherries (for a tart or liquer), two containers of sweet cherries, tiny zucchini and yellow squash, sweet peas in their edible shells, regular farm fresh peas shelled, and local tomatoes.  Nothing too large--- I'm hoping by the time that watermelon is in season (around late June/early July) that I can bribe a friend to come and enjoy watermelon blended with vodka in the back yard. 

I stopped at a local cafe, grabbed some iced tea and Irish oatmeal (an odd combo for sure, but hot drinks have not been ideal when I insist on sitting outside everywhere).  I'm headed out to Trader Joes in a bit in order to pick up the rest of the ingredients for ratatouille.  I never did make it last year (other than our ratatouille pizza), and I thought today it sounded like the perfect dish.  The peas will be eaten soon as a delicious pasta dish. 

I reached home, putting away the produce, and sinking onto the sofa to finish Lunch in Paris.  Suddenly, a pitter patter of rain was heard as it gently fell on the sidewalk outside.  I had made it home just in time.  And the skies reflected the morning's emotions, it felt cleansing.  I appreciate the sunshine because of the rain.  Three more months, and it will be G carrying the load from the market.