On my way to the art museum, I got waylaid by a sign that said "Farmers' Market." I was hungry. What the heck, I'll swing by, get an apple, call it lunch.
Then I pulled off the exit and found myself sitting behind a giant pickup filled with watermelons, which was behind another giant pickup filled with cantaloupes, and we turned into a giant outdoor plaza filled with pickups filled with fruit, and I went holyshit.
An hour later, I bump-bumped my way off the parking lot (it was so stuffed with trucks that people had created an extra row in back by driving up the curb onto the grass) with free-range eggs (just fried two; mmm) some peaches, half a dozen ears of corn (that I'd intended to boil, but just spent a few minutes standing over the stove inhaling raw - they're sweet!) blueberries, blackberries (must do laundry again; berry juice stains), goat cheese, fresh bread, a very, very ripe tomato, a sugar baby watermelon reserved for my trip out to something nature-related tomorrow, fresh whole milk, and an empty tub of banana pudding goat cheese frozen custard (I couldn't wait that long).
Corn almost gone. Blackberries gone. Eggs dangerously low. (To my cholesterol levels: I apologize.) Time for a second course of ripe peach, blueberries, and milk later this afternoon. I thought this armload would last me the remainder of my stay in Raleigh (4 days), but I may have to get more food tomorrow.
Why would you ever get your food any other way, if you had the choice? Why do we have grocery stores? Why would you not want to walk up and down the aisles, ogling okra, pulling watermelon bits from outstretched sample forks, talking with a goat farmer about the herbs in her cheese logs?
I could get used to this.