To Market, To Market

A visit to the Hendersonville Farmer's Market was in order a few weeks ago with my trusty camera in tow. It was a fun, yet hot and humid experience. Perhaps the better phrase would be 'sweltering at the veggie stand'. Our farmer's market sets up in the green space at Streets of Indian Lake, an outdoor mall in Hendersonville. It's a treat! Come with me as we shop and snap. And I don't mean snap as in beans, but snap as in photos.

I've never met an Eggplant I didn't like. And while I've never eaten Eggplant in any form or fashion that I recall, I love this dark veggie with their bright green sprout on top.

This gal was singing her heart out. Decked out in red, white and blue, she belted out a few tunes while I shopped. She has a deep, gutsy type of voice.

Shucks! I'm loving this Farmer's Market. I sure thank Hendersonville for putting on this display. It's a little corny, don't you think. Yes, a pun was intended.

Well, I declare, let's Salsa. Who knew one could find homemade Salsa at the Farmer's Market. I grabbed a jar, and after getting home and cooling down, whew was that one hot visit, I munched on some chips and Salsa.

I admit it. I have a fetish for Eggplants. I love their bottom heavy shape, their bright, but purple hue. I love everything about them. Now I just have to try one sometime.

Tomato or Tamatoe! Which do you prefer. I love the Tomato no matter how one says it. I love it in Salsa, of course, and spaghetti and lasagna and, well, you get the gist of it.

Did I mention the Hendersonville Mounted Police were here in their finery. And in this case the finery was a chestnut mare, who I believe is called Rango. We have one of the finest police forces in America right here in Hendersonville, Tennessee.

It wouldn't be a Farmer's Market if not for a flower image. Don't you agree. I absolutely loved my visit to the Farmer's Market. And I hope you enjoyed my photo expo of my visit. If it had been five degrees cooler, I would have loved it even more, but hey, it's July. Hope you have a fruits and veggies kind of weekend all. Stay cool. ENJOY!

Linking to The Scoop 334

A Thanksgiving Story

Thanksgiving Day grows closer. And this is what Thanksgiving means to me. I hope you will indulge me as I share this story. My Thanksgiving brings with it a golden brown turkey with gravy and turkey giblets and sage filled dressing with onions and celery. Sweet potatoes hot out of the oven with a lightly toasted marshmallow topping and perhaps scattered walnuts will be served. Mashed potatoes and green beans and perhaps even a fruit salad too.

Least I forget dessert, no doubt the star will be pumpkin pie, warm out of the oven, wafting hints of pumpkin and cinnamon, filling the air. The mild hint of brown crusted dough and perhaps a simple dollop of whipped cream melt down the side as my fork cuts through.



Before dinner . . . before the turkey, before the dressing, comes the preparation. Our Thanksgiving table will be donned with a beautiful tablecloth of soft gold and brown hues and adorned with rustic red dinnerware. Each place setting carefully positioned around the Thanksgiving table. Dinner's guests will gather in the kitchen around the counter each filling their plates with delicious Thanksgiving fixings. Plates filled with heaping spoonfulls, each of us will retreat to the dining room and take our seat around the table. Thankful for this wonderful meal and yet another Thanksgiving, the chatter begins as every one partakes in this year's Thanksgiving feast. Stories of by gone days and wishes and hopes of what the coming Christmas season will bring fill the room.

Every Thanksgiving my younger sister spends countless hours cooking, baking, roasting, decorating and place setting. As each of us arrive at her door, we are graciously greeted and Thankgiving Day commences. Yet, I realize every year how much work and effort goes into this fabulous meal and, oftentimes, I wonder how she manages to do it all, with such perfection. This meal shared by family. This younger sister who wasn't supposed to be as the doctors informed my Mother that she was too weak to bear another child. I knew she was coming as my Mother had told me of her coming that day in the back yard of our small home in Louisville. I sat on the swing still as my Mother approached. She told me A baby would be born in a few short months. I was ready. Adults were anxious. Not sure if this baby or my Mother would survive. And yet the day came and my Mother did give birth. And I had a younger sister, and after many months of recovery, my Mother grew strong again. And so today I dedicate this Thanksgiving Story to my younger sister. ENJOY!