Moving to the middleofnowhere has been a difficult transition for me (and to be honest it still is). I’ve been working hard on having an open mind and proactively looking for good things about our location.
I’ve found one.
Finally.
The fresh picked that day produce available in the aforementioned middleofnowhere is nothing less than
amazing
spectacular
and
delicious.
For example, the lady with purple fingers on the side of the road. She picks her dirt, grit and chemical free blackberries in the morning and is on the side of the road in her red and white truck by 11:30am. 12noon if she is picking in the back of the patch.
I didn’t know what real blackberries tasted like until I had these.
I’m understanding more and more how the grocery store has ruined produce for us. We don’t know the sweetness of a true strawberry or the meltyjuicyness of a tomato (preferably still warm from the sun).
I confessed to the lady with purple fingers on the side of the road that last week I ate an entire container in one day. Without hesitation and in all seriousness she asked me if I’d then had diarrhea (gasp!). I shrieked on the inside. Never ever is it ever permissible to talk about potty business in polite company. I would go so far as to say that the only person you should be discussing your potty business with is your doctor. I promise no one else cares. The only leniency on potty business talk would be about small (
and I mean small) children and then only to family or other mothers whose children you would be willing to change a stinky diaper for.
What happens at the potty stays at the potty.
Pass it on.
I didn’t know what real blackberries tasted like until I had these.
