To Market, to Market

Tuo market, to market, to buy – you fill in the blank. I didn’t buy pork, so the original “to buy a fat pig” doesn’t really work.

It was a typical Saturday, mostly. I woke up later than intended and ended up going to the downtown farmers’ market by myself. Chuck had a commitment that he couldn’t miss, so we didn’t go to market together, as is our normal Saturday. I picked up my usual collection of bags and found my way to our parking ramp.

Then I stumbled and twisted an ankle. Ouch. I stepped on it gingerly, determined it was a minor pain, and continued into the marketplace called College Avenue, our town’s equivalent of Main Street.

I bought my usual goodies ¬†quickly, and didn’t dawdle for more. I wanted to get off my feet (and ankle) before overdoing and causing myself trouble.

Of course I took pictures!

Many Pleasures from The Market

A close-up will show what I have planned for later this weekend.

Pickling Cucumbers!

You can see I’ve already made one batch of bread and butter pickles. Last year I made two, and we went through each and every pickle. Yum! Maybe I’ll grind up the ends for relish instead of compost. Maybe.

But first, I settled into the recliner to watch my Milwaukee Brewers play their hearts out at their home field, and rested my silly twisted ankle.

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