There’s a temporary fruit and veggie stand across the street from the dojo. One never knows when or if it is going to appear, nor what they’re going to be selling. Some of it is domestic, but I’ve also seen grapes from California and dates from the Middle East, among other things.
The fellow who usually runs it is the friendly sort.
I once got some scrumptious strawberries and blackberries from him for one of my infamous tarts. And he often has blueberries. A few days ago, I got some teeny tomatoes, both red and yellow. Last week, he had some rather tasty looking mushrooms. I picked up a bag and said I thought I’d saute them in butter.
His head snapped up and a huge grin spread across his face. “That sounds really yummy!”
“Doesn’t it? Maybe some garlic and white wine, too.”
As I started to walk away, he said, “Hey, Oneisan (big sister), add some of this at the end. That will taste good.” And he handed me a package of Italian parsley. And it was good. And I was charmed that he called me Oneisan. At my age, I’m more likely to get Obasan (auntie). Yuck.
It’s very cold today, and when I dropped by to see what he had, I asked if it isn’t difficult to be outside like that every day. He said that yes, it is, but he gets to talk to a lot of people and he likes that part. (Another huge grin.)
I can relate. As much as I love being freelance, it’s always feast or famine. Nothing happens for the longest time–if I’m home alone, I’m likely to spend the day in my sweats, never leaving the house, never speaking to anyone–then things get busy and it’s too much too fast and my groggy brain has trouble processing all of it.
The odd thing, though, is that it tends to work out. I had gobs of outside jobs in January, sometimes two or three a day. This week, my schedule is completely clear, next week I’ve got one meeting scheduled. But work I can do here at the computer, in my sweats, keeps coming in. Motivation to get it done is the biggest roadblock, and it was severely lacking today. A friend suggested that I go do something very Japanese that I have forgotten is exotic to people who don’t live here. So I got dressed, even went so far as to put on a bra, and went, alone, to the soba/udon shop where I ate curry udon, both things I had never done before. And it was good. And I came home and managed to finish the work I had to finish today.
So if I can focus, and remember to eat, and stay away from Candy Crush (and this cursed blog!), all will be well. (Huge grin.)