The best laid schemes . . .

In Phoenix, it’s slim pickings when the heat hovers around 110.  At the Wednesday farmers’ market, Pinnacle Farms is the only vendor open year-round.   Much of what they sell is out-of-state, but I can still get beautiful local cucumbers, tomatoes, corn, melon and bell peppers.  They sell my favorite eggs, too.  The market is only a shadow of its fall, winter and spring self, but it’s better than Safeway.  I can’t go the whole damn summer without a real tomato.  The New York Times recently reported on a study confirming what I already know—supermarket tomatoes look and taste like red rubber balls.   Besides, spending my money locally improves my self-esteem.  So I braved the heat and hit the farmers’ market for my last shopping trip of the week.

Trader Joe’s is next to the farmers’ market stands, so stopped there, too.  I had all three boys—a huge lapse in judment—and I went 25 bucks over our weekly budget.  If you factor in beef from our steer, it’s more like 35 bucks.  So. . . we’re off and running! I don’t consider our first week an abject failure, though.  I wrote my first ten blog entries and I demonstrated that losing control at Trader Joe’s can lay to waste the best of intentions.  Robert Burns’ “To a Mouse” ends

But oh! I backward cast my eye,
On prospects dreary!
And forward, though I cannot see,
I guess and fear!

But I’m not that afraid–I still think we can do this.  My hubris won’t get the best of me this week, gosh darnit.

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