To market, to market

A spot of color on a gray day.

Before getting out of bed this morning, I heard on the radio that it was a rainy, chilly day. What motivated me out of bed and out of the apartment was the lure of the fabulous oatmeal-raisin cookies at the Tuesday farmers' market in my neighborhood.

The joke was on me, I guess, because the vendor didn't make oatmeal-raisin cookies today. Oh, poor me, I had to settle for a walk-along apple pie.

My daughter is studying nutrition has a high-school elective this year. Actually, nutrition has been a life-long interest of hers, and even as a toddler, she loved to page through books about health and food. Today she set up an interview with the farmers' market manager. The manager agreed to meet next week to answer questions, though she also said, "I really don't know much about nutrition."

The foliage this year is strange. The hurricane blew through before I noticed much color, and it seemed that trees went directly from green to bare. A few days ago it snowed, yesterday was hot enough for short-sleeves, and today sends a wet chill to the bones.

When we arrive home from the farmers' market and I put my key into our door to unlock it, I say, "Home again, home again, jiggity jig." I keep waiting for the kids to tease me that I recite that nursery rhyme too often or to roll their eyes that I'm babying them, but the ritual has been going on for over a decade and still no protest.

To make up for some missing days of gratitude, I'll list a few things:
* Nursery rhymes that stick with you for life
* Farmers' market
* Autumn color
* Hot apple cider