Write a four line poem about: mold.
Market got off to a slow start this morning but did pick up to a pretty steady pace. In the end I came back home with 4 of the 16 crates of Galas I'd brought, 1 of the 4 crates of McIntosh, .5 of the 4 crates of Honey Crisp, a couple pounds of plums, and a handful of peaches. Didn't bring any corn to the market, as the first planting is done and the second one isn't quite ready yet.
It was manageable on my own, though change was getting a little dicey at several points. My float starts out with $26 in coins and at the end of the market I had about $5 in coins in the cash box. If I'd had someone with me I'd have definitely gone for a run to the bank to get more, but it ended up being okay.
Looking forward to a day off with family tomorrow.
These apples look moldy,
She said with a frown.
I struggled to smile
And resist throwing down...
Final customer of the day, as I was packing up the truck about 15 minutes after closing. She was looking at the Honey Crisp, which honestly don't look all that great (they're difficult to grow in this heat). I informed her it was just the remnants of a calcium spray.
The implication that I would sell moldy apples, however, was absolutely infuriating.