October 12, 2013
The Aztec Dancers appear at
the Farmers Market Harvest Festival in their ceremonial glory. They dance and
swirl with messages from the Sun, Wind and Mother Earth to assist with the
harvest of food for the planet (and our West Side
neighborhood.) I prepare to give an announcement about our Seed Library
Project, hoping it doesn’t end up sounding like the King’s Speech, jittery and
stammering. Have a friend from the Committee who agrees to hold up an example
of the seed envelope people can obtain from the box at the library, starting as
early as January, for their greenhouse plantings.
The cider press is biting
apples, making sweet juice to accompany the vegetable soup, ingredients
provided by the community from their still producing gardens. I sell off my
supply of maple syrup and am kicking myself that I didn’t throw more in the
back of my vehicle. A man whom I have never set eyes on before, approached the
area to include his untamed spider plants to the mix at the community table.
Had I known he would blab on about his canning projects, indoor plant
collection and a lot of nothing in particular while customers stood at the
table, glancing at the products to buy, I would have told him I was the only
one who can sell at the table. Hard not to appear rude when I need to cut him
off to speak with the paying clients. Good customer service is innate, I
believe, and not everyone is aware of the skill.
The Festival ends and I do not
have to give my presentation after all. The Queen has been given a pardon.
It is alarmingly cool
today, windy and chilly out of the sun. Closed all of the screens on the windows
to prevent the draft from coming into the house. It appears to be lacking in
insulation and I may place plastic sheeting inside the windows, as unsightly as
it can be, I am far too practical not to address it. I can tell the pets will
be no help with the project so I am on my own with that and painting the
kitchen cabinets, cupboards and trim, a cheery blue. Beats grease stains and
spattered food.
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