Write four lines of prose about: the bowl.
And suddenly, it's August. What.
Heading to the market tomorrow morning with blackberries, raspberries, a couple pints of a later variety of strawberries that were planted this spring, a handful of tomatoes, green beans, pickling cukes, a ridiculous amount of long cucumbers... oh, and the first picks of peaches, nectarines, and sunrise apples.
Not a whole lot of any one thing (other than those 26 pounds of cucumbers...), but hopefully enough all told for a decent long weekend market.
My sister and brother-in-law from Calgary will be meeting me at the market and then coming back this way to join us for the rest of the weekend. Really looking forward to having them here, and for Max to get some more quality time with his aunt and uncle.
It sits on the dinner table - the very, very, exact middle of the dinner table. Just out of reach from all sides, laughing at my fingertips as I stretch for it. Time to call in reinforcements.
"Mommy get it!"