Got Water?

January 26, 2013

Out of city water. We have not had rain in days. In the middle of a shower, soapy and alone in the house the water supply dries up to a dribble. Wonderful. The flip switch happens to be on the back side of the house. It ignites the sub pump to project water from the well into a substantial grey tank that sits out back which then feeds into the house. Thank goodness there is a larger towel on the hook in the bathroom, I have a miniscule-sized camping towel. Would have had to decide which one small area I could cover-up! Hop along dripping water onto the tiled floors and scoot outdoors. Failed to slip on my flip flops so my feet wince in pain from the sharp gravel as I plunder round the corner to the switch. I listen for cries of horror. Silence.

Saturday Farmers Market is comprised of such fond memories. It is located on the dirt lot in front of the church at the start of our old street in Rio Tavares. Every Saturday I would hike down with my cloth bags and select fresh produce from the farmers. The workers set up a tarp (this is an addition and much appreciated on hot days) to cover the wooden boxes of fruit and vegetables as blue plastic sacks float around the area like soaring birds in search of nesting materials. A scale parked on a box at the head of the line is manned by a smiling young man with checkered shorts and hunter green t-shirt with a faded apron over the top. His black socks camouflage the farmer’s tan he sports and worn strapped sandals are covered in dust from the puffs circling around his feet. He snaps his fingers at the young boys who are available to help haul and load the items in the customer’s cars. Many people are leaving the area on foot with shaky-wheeled metal carts or with fingers obviously pinched from the heavy load.

Another tent is erected off to the side which holds various other products. It brings me joy to recall all the times I used to sample the little cookies, crackers, unfamiliar treats to choose the delectables we would enjoy through the week. Cheeses, honey, eggs, a variety of dried salami, fresh cakes, breads, and cookies grace the square counters. Large bins hold the bulk sweet and savories for self-service on one side. The biggest change was a ticket number machine to keep order. The customers take their time choosing purchases and everyone waits patiently for their turn while nibbling on samples and exclaiming to one another over the selections. Brings me such pleasure to be there again. Can’t wait for next Saturday when I insist we all get up early and go to the Feira together.

Head to the beach for a walk and few minutes of relaxing in the sun before making pasta with Shitake mushrooms with cream sauce for lunch. Walter came over last night who is staying at the house next door and wanted to borrow some time on my laptop. He seems lonely so we invited him to join us on the Feira run, to the beach for a dip and have lunch with us.

It is now clouding over and we are praying for rain. Many of the houses in this neighborhood do not have a sub pump and therefore no holding tank. I am certain the builders of the new construction around the corner don’t concern themselves with the lack of drinkable water.