The exercise:
Write four lines of prose about: the jeweler.
Busy morning, as we ended up harvesting for the market, the restaurant, and the local bakery.
Right, I don't think I've mentioned the bakery before now. Not sure how I managed that. Anyway, a young couple opened a new bakery in town last month and it's really fantastic. All their breads are made with sourdough starters and take three days to make - and are totally worth the wait. And of course they also make pastries and assorted goodies.
We met them through a mutual friend, and the fact that they were expecting their first child added to the connection (she just gave birth last week to a baby boy). We've been supplying them with some herbs, fruit, and veggies for their creations - today I brought by zucchini, onions, cherry tomatoes, and garlic, most of which will be going into their Focaccia bread.
I think we're very lucky to have such a great business open up in a small town like this, as it really would seem more at home in Vancouver.
Mine:
With Eastern European blood in his veins, an open shirt displaying his grey chest hairs, heavy gold rings clasping three of the fingers on his left hand, and a thick chain around his neck, Anthony definitely looked the part of a legit jeweler. There was some discussion about the addition of a gold cap on a tooth or two, but in the end it was considered unnecessary.
2 comments:
That bakery sounds great! And it's even better that they're sourcing locally for the ingredients for their breads :) I make my own sourdough bread (the starter's over a year old now) and it definitely produces better bread than you buy in supermarkets and the like.
Going back briefly to yesterday's post, I realised when I read your answer about leaving the weeds between the rows that if you did compost that many weeds you'd probably have some monstrous, smoking hot pile of compost that terrified the neighbourhood!
Love the detail in your four lines today, though I've come to expect the presence of mobsters now ;-)
The jeweler
He made rings and things, torcs and bracelets, and little jewelled toys that worked on clockwork and skittered and crawled across the floor. It was his hobby, but it lent its name to him, and everyone around just called him the Jeweler.
He supposed it was nice in many ways, and they didn't just call him that; they bought his little trinkets and toys and rings and brooches. All things considered, he felt, it was much better than the last place which had just called him Cess-Pit Cleaner #41778
Greg - yeah, their starter is three years old now. The difference in taste is incredible!
Hah, yes, that does sound like a bit of a step up from his last position :D
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