Saturday, August 8, 2009

A market morning



We woke up with the residual traces of our nasty little head colds still lingering in the sinuses. The worst was over, and after a good night's sleep - recovery awakened us with the renewed hope that I may soon be able to breathe again through both nostrils. Ahhh.
(except for poor Tyler, who has just fallen victim to this lovely little virus)

I surveyed the damage that a 24-hour motionless stint of illness produces. We had crusted noodles stuck to the kitchen floor and walls, the scent of garlic and old diapers meandering through the halls. No clean sheets. Dirty toilets. Oh the joy.

Rather than spend my first morning feeling in the 90th percentile of good health mopping floors, I abandoned my usual "clean the house first, play second" obsession and got myself and the girls quickly dressed. We threw open the windows, left Tyler in bed with a box of tissues and Dayquil, and promptly escaped for a drive by viewing of our darling new cousin/nephew, little Finn (we didn't want to risk getting him sick, but Dan and Ali kindly agreed to bring him out into the front yard and allow us to peer at his cuteness through cracked windows - slightly, itty bitty cracked windows - click and read all about his edible-ness here), then headed onto Farmer's market.



This market is in Reno, a bit of a drive but completely worth it because it is a true farmer's market (Sparks hosts a market on Thursdays that is more akin to a big frat party with corn). Nonna had previously been and recommended it directly to us, and indirectly by including her plump heirloom tomato purchases into her famously delicious Gyros last Sunday. (Heirloom tomatoes: You. Complete. Me.)

It was a glorious 80 degree day as we browsed up and down the aisles, stocking up on fresh strawberries, blackberries, rasberries, and our precious beefy heirlooms.





Lily and London treated the open stands like a free for all food-fest, attempting to sample every piece before I could scold them. Luckily the kind, I'm assuming grandparent folks running the stands didn't seem to mind too much.



We ended with a large cinnamon roll from the House of Bread, and concluded our escape from monotonous Saturday morning cleaning drudgery.

Now it is Saturday evening, and I'll be scrubbing toilets. But, I'm much happier about it now.






BIG FAT PS.
.
.
.

This is the price I pay for this blog. I just clicked publish, headed into the playroom and found this:

Lily found a bottle of baby powder, and as you can see, went to town:



The tears quickly came after she first attempted to nervously smile when she saw me grab the camera. As she quickly gleamed and tried to squeeze in a desperate "Cheeez" she was tartly reprimanded and told this was not a smiling picture.
No smiles allowed.


There, that's better.





5 comments:

Sarah Hansen said...

I do not think they get better than that! CRaCKING UP. I think I will refer to this when I am having a bad day...it will cheer me right up!

Ian said...

I was busting up when I read this! I love how in most of the pictures in your blog London is either eating something or has her hand in her mouth. And Lily's face in the last picture is way to despicable...miss you guys!

Amy said...

In Lily's defense... at least your playroom smells like fresh baby bottom instead of garlic and old diapers... maybe she was just doing her part. =)

xoxo
Amy

Emily and Alex Knight said...

This is so cute! Lily is so grown up i can't even believe it. I remember her just running around in her diaper when you came to visit sarah and me!

Sarah Hansen said...

Emily! Yay...aren't they cute?!