Farmers' Market

The Danville Farmers' Market can be brutal, especially if you're trying to get to the the peaches or the tomatoes in high season.  The corn, thank goodness, has a more-or-less organized line, courtesy of the corn farmers whom, I suspect, got tired of witnessing the suburban brutality.  

And crowded.  I've tried waiting patiently for my turn, and been elbowed out by sweet looking grannies with murderous looks in their eyes.  By daddies who think they're still linebackers and we are the opposing team, by aggressive moms swinging a baby from one hip and a huge purse from the other.  And the throng doesn't clear out until only shriveled bits of fruit remain.  The vultures have nothing on the folks at the Farmers' Market.

So I've learned to just wade in and take my chances.  And one morning, reaching for a ripe heirloom tomato, having just taken yet another elbow in the stomach - oof - I heard a familiar voice.

"Oh. My. God!  What are you doing here?  Your parole officer was just looking for you!  And girlfriend, how did you get that ankle bracelet off?!?"

All of a sudden I had the tomatoes to myself.  Which would have been great if I hadn't been laughing so hard I was doubled over.  Hard to grab a tomato when you're holding on to your sides.

It was my friend.  My adorable, hysterically funny, take-no-prisoners friend.  

I suspect the watching crowds thought she was brave to hug an obvious fugitive from justice.  We laughed, we talked, we told stories.  She showed me her favorite farmers - not the obvious crowded ones, but the lavender lady in the corner and the shy man with just a few apricots, so flavorful with each bite the juice ran down your chin, and memories from childhood came flooding back.

She is a fabulous story teller.  Get her to tell you about picking lemons in Israel.   In a Lily Pulitzer dress.  Priceless.  The story, not the dress.   She is the friend I call when I'm having a great day - she will laugh with me.  She is the friend I call when I am melting into tears and the world seems mean.

Everyone needs a friend like this in their life.  I am privileged to have the original.  Lucky me.

Creativity

He paints in his garage.  He's in a bunch of well-known museums and collections.  We were lucky enough to buy a painting before they climbed out of our price range.  For him painting is as necessary as breathing.  His name is Joe Loria - check him out.

I thought about him as I was sketching.  I've been thinking a lot about the need to create.

I had a gift tag craft day at my house...

Friends came, brought lunch to share, glittered and stickled and laughed and amazed me with their creativity.  

Girls rock.  My girlfriends rock.  

Especially the ones (hello Ellen) who said they were not creative, and then made the most beautiful and unusual things.  (I took notes.)

It's worth a closer look:

I have a pile of gift tags, I am covered in glitter, and I have a kitchen (and a head) full of happy memories.

So when you get a beautiful hand-made gift tag from a friend, I hope you'll save it.   A lot of love and heart went into making it. 

Thirty one jelly

Thirty one jars of jelly. Apple jelly with a little pomegranate thrown in for color (so it doesn't look like a urine sample). Eight jars at a time, because that's all the recipe makes, and because that's what fits in my water bath. 

My windows are still steamed up.

It was for a bridal shower - fall wedding; apple theme...

It's hot work and sooooooo much more fun to do with someone. Hi Cathy!

Cathy has incredible style and an eye for the details. Her parties are legendary - more later. And as long as we were cooking, why not carrot cupcakes for a friend who'd just had surgery?

So! The party: Gorgeous flowers...

...on every surface.

Delicious food, cool way of serving (I plan to steal this idea), happy tables with garden flowers. So spring.

Piles of presents for the bride-to-be...

...and a quiz. Do you know what a bain-marie is? A tagine? 

And could you identify these herbs and spices?

Mary Mac guessed hemlock  - and cannabis. Nope, all legal. Tasting and smelling helped, but even the person who put this together (a secret that will go with me to my grave - not soon I hope) mis-named a few. Safety tip: If you're going to taste the Chipotle chili, take a tiny taste. I can still see Stevie's face as she realized what she'd put in her mouth. 

I thought we were too old for games. Never! I felt like a little kid at a really fun birthday party. Girlfriends are the Best! 

girls getaway

Went to Cathy's in Carmel...

(no, that's not her house, it's the Carmel Mission, silly.)

(this is her house)

 ...with some amazing women...

...and since it was raining and everyone but me is a whiz at puzzles, we spent some time preventing Alzheimer's.

Joanne is the most amazing spatial thinker. Melody has a gift for making you feel so proud of the smallest accomplishments. Ellen has the most incredible perspective on the world, and such a comfortable way of moving through it - you smile just being near to her. And Cathy is the most gracious hostess and has so many fun ideas. I had never been away with the girls before; I could have stayed for years. We hiked, we did yoga in the parking lot at Spyglass and entertained the golfers, we cooked and laughed and sat by the fire and drank champagne and told stories. And made memories. Good friends are a gift.