Saturday Morning Ritual

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As we usually do on Saturday mornings, Russ and I jumped in the Smart car early and headed downtown to the farmer’s market. Normally, since we are there at the opening, the place is not crowded, and we see the same familiar faces.

 

Today, as we pulled up I knew something was different. There were hordes of people everywhere holding big fist sized biscuits to their mouths with melted cheese oozing out.   Apparently we arrived just as the Bull City Run of some kind had finished and the uber healthy, skinny runners were rightfully treating themselves for their morning effort. Of course one 8K run hardly burns off enough calories to warrant a Pie Pusher’s breakfast pizza or an American Meltdown breakfast sandwich, but it is all psychological.

 

Most of the vegetable shoppers were the regulars since the runners were busy recarb-loading. We made the loop of the stands getting eggs, cabbage, squash and the last of the local strawberries. Russ carried the baskets and bags back to the tiny Smart and filled the truck with our bounty. Of course filling the trunk of a smart doesn’t take much.

 

We toddled out of the parking lot on our way to the next ritual Saturday morning stop, LOAF. Russ is addicted to the Polenta bread, but does not buy it from the stand at the farmers market, instead insisting on going to the store so they can slice it on their ancient bread slicer. Since I am carb-avoiding I stayed in the car so as not to be tempted by any one of the amazing smells inside the bakery.

 

Russ was inside for an extra long time. I thought he might be eating a blueberry cheese Danish inside the store so as not to make me crazy. When he came out I asked him what took so long.

 

“I was giving a Durham visitor some directions about where she could eat,” he told me.

 

“She was looking for eggs. At first I thought she wanted a store and I told her about Bulldega, around the corner, but when she said she did not want the Marriott fare I understood she needed a restaurant. I told her about Scratch, around the corner and the farmer’s Market around the other corner.” Russ paused and then told me what the woman’s response was.

 

“Everything in Durham is just around the corner.”

 

How true! And that is what we love about Durham. Whatever you are looking for, it’s just around the corner.

 

 



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