Sunday, July 13, 2008

R&R

“Don't underestimate the value of Doing Nothing,
of just going along, listening to all the things you can't hear,
and not bothering.”
Winnie The Pooh

Let's face it, either there is just nothing to say about food on a daily basis, or I'm just not any good at every day posts. Probably the latter is closer to the truth. My intentions are always good at the beginning of the month, but as the days wear on I just lose my steam. A part of me feels bad that I seem to be utterly unable to follow through on this commitment, and another part of me thinks what's the big deal.
Yesteday I had a choice. Write about food or take off with my Sweetie for a meritorious day off. Guess what I chose?

We headed for the small town of Waldo which is best known for being a speed trap between Jacksonville and Gainesville. Our plan was to wander through the flea market and buy fresh fruit at the Farmer's Market. What we hadn't planned on was the rain.
As we neared our destination the skies literally opened up. Big black clouds poured out bucket of rain. Since I wasn't driving it was actually kind of nice. Who am I kidding? Hurricane Bertha could have been drowning us and blowing the van across the road and and I still would have enjoyed the sights and sounds ....

The wipers on the van go swish, swish, swish.
The girl in the van says, "look at the goats!"
The driver of the van says, "move over fool!"
The GPS in the van says, "turn right here."


And as luck would have it the rain stopped as soon as we walked into the flea market. If you ask me, flea markets are strange places. First of all, why are they called flea markets?
[Photo Left: Notice anything funny about the placement of the door. Inside there was actually a sign next to it that said Fire Escape!]


If this place was any indication, it is true that one man's trash is another man's treasure, if in fact the trash actually sells. I think there was about a half mile of row upon row of stuff, inside and out. Old stuff, new stuff, farm stuff, food stuff, pet stuff, rusty stuff, stinky stuff, plant stuff. You name it and I think you could probably find it in this place. (Except, of course, fleas. I didn't see any fleas for sale, though I did see a few chihuahua puppies jumping around in their poop lined cage. Gross!)

Our original plan was to buy fresh picked peaches and melons from the local farmers. Even though there was a plentitude of fruits and vegetables for sale, none of it was from Starke. The peaches, corn and peanuts all came from Georgia which, due to it's proximity, could be considered local but I was hoping for right of the tree fresh. Or maybe I just wasn't in the mood to buy peaches.

As we headed home, it began to rain again. How's that for perfect timing? We took a different route which took us through the Florida countryside. It was a pleasant drive. Just Sweetie and me enjoying the peace and quiet. Green trees lined one side of the road, while row upon row of charred pines lined the other. It was strange to see how only the trunks were burned. Cows huddled close together trying to stay dry in large green pastures. Newly built contemporary houses sat on well-groomed lawns next to acreage studded with doublewide trailers. We couldn't help but question where these country dwellers shopped. It was a relief not to see a drug store on every corner. Come to think of it, there weren't many corners - just a two lane road meandering through the rural wonderland.

When we reached civilization again, I tested my memory by trying to find my grandparent's home. The house where they lived isn't there anymore, but the sign that marked their woodsy drive still stands - Pleasant Point, indeed.

So there you have it, a day away, just what this girl needed.

Wishing you a day of peaceful relaxation with the one you love,
Merry ME

1 comment:

Anti Jen said...

What a pleasant day. Glad you took the time to yourself.

By the way, I prefer to look at NaBloPoMo as a goal, not a commitment. Or at least that's what I've told myself as I've enjoyed my own R&R...

And the theme, I think, is more suggestion than mandate, offering inspiration for those who need it. I love that feeling obligated to think of food has made me focus on it so much less...