Today was supposed to be a sleep-in day. What was supposed to be a 3-day weekend (my family has a rotating schedule that allows for additional time off in the offseason to counter the soemtimes 11-14 days straight work during the busy season) is just a standard 5 day workweek this week because of a special event. The weather forecasters accurately prodicted a rainy day today, so I figured that was the best day for me to take off. Plus that meant that either myself or my sister, Erica, would be working each day. Since it was supposed to be stormy and therefore not “gardening weather”, I figured I would sleep in. I didn’t watch my drinking or my bedtime as I was planning on my favorite way to relax: a late morning wake-up followed by reading. Unfortunately, my sleep was disturbed (the drinking?). I got up 4 times during the night. I was still happy because I was planning on sleeping in, so who cares if I got up 4 times. Then my husband got up. I missed his warmth. I heard the coffee-maker start. It got lighter in the room. Mitch kissed me goodbye. And then he came back for something and I had to go to the bathroom. And then I was awake. Why bother going back to bed. I wasn’t sleepy. It was so abnormal. I can sleep through anything, go to sleeep after anything. Okay, maybe that was 5 years ago. I’m getting old! Whatever the reason, I decided to read the paper in bed, figuring I would just doze off after I finished. After the paper, I read the rest of Bon Appetit, that I had started the night before. I did get sleepy after I finished. Then suddenly I had a wonderful thought. It’s Wednesday in the summer which means that the farmers market is going on downtown. And I could possibly find the squash blossoms featured in a recipe for zucchini and corn salad. It was 9 am, it was rainy and it was farmer’s market Wednesday. Suddenly, I had wings.
So sometimes I live in a fantasy world. I can do anything, no constraints on time, location, or energy. I imagine I am Julia Child, going to the Paris market daily. I am a Swedish ancestor, on a dairy farm: chickens, milk cows and huge garden available to me. But mainly I am a housewife, shopping daily for supper and coming home to prepare a gourmet meal for my husband. What that says about me, I’m not sure I want to contemplate. It shoots down a whole lot of the backstory that I have concocted for myself. What it does mean is that today, I did exactly what I wanted to do and what I have fantasized about doing. I went to market to shop for my dinner.
I must begin the rest of the story with the caveat: I like to grocery shop. I love food. I love cooking. I love research. Finding the freshest, tastiest food that fits into my diet ideology rocks my boat. I enjoy it, I love it. So to say I am going shopping for my food seems average. After all, this is a pasttime that I enjoy. But going to the farmer’s market rachets that up just a little. Now I am in the Julia Child territory. Maybe Rachel Ray. Certainly I am joining my local hero, Matt Bennett. I am buying my food directly from the grower at the farmer’s market. I am going to market (marketing) not just shopping. It feels so much better to embrace a fantasy, to do something I don’t do regularly. It is actually funny that I was very goal-oriented and finished “shopping” in record time. Did I pay more? Perhaps. I hope I made up for the fact that everything was fresher. I had a better selection, possibly, than in the grocery store. It doesn’t matter. For that instant I was Julia Child (or any other European housewife), going to the outdoor market to obtain tonight’s dinner. And I was happy!
For the future, what the hell does it mean that I no longer sleep in unless my husband sleeps in with me? This just isn’t going to work for me. I need to know (and therefore plan) if I am not going to sleep in. I mean, I need to be mature and self-controlled if I am not going to “sleep off” the effects of the previous night. And really…I find luxury in sleeping in. It is selfish! And sometimes I need to be selfish! I need to do exactly what I want to do, and nothing that someone else wants me to do. And there is nothing wrong with that, occassionally. So if that means I have to grow up and act like an adult-okay I’ll do it. Just as long as I get to be Julia Child, going to market for tonight’s dinner!
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