Write a four line poem about (or by, I suppose): Elvis.
It was a bit of a weird market this morning - the customers seemed more picky than usual, and not as happy as they tend to be, overall. Maybe something to do with the heat, I suppose. But I think it had more to do with the two festivals going on around us (one of which was the Penticton Elvis Festival). I'm thinking people who don't typically attend farmers markets but decided to check things out since we were right there.
Whatever it was, our end result was still very good. We brought 20 crates of apricots and only came back with 4 and a quarter. Our peas didn't sell very well but we did move some, same with the broccoli. We brought home a pint of raspberries, which is ridiculously rare, but we did sell the other 29 so... I'm trying to focus on that.
I took Rebecca with me and left Kat and Max at home to escape the heat. Well, not especially true. I left them to go to the beach in the morning and Kat's parents (air conditioned) house in the afternoon to beat the heat.
And now... there's a thunderstorm going on outside. So maybe I should get this done and posted before the power decides to go out.
I don't want to be me,
Not anymore at least;
I watch in confusion
While others play my role