I am a brown paper bag.
Today was one of those Norah Jones days. Over-cast, scattered showers, and the refreshing smell of damp earth gave an atmosphere which specifically required a large mug of hot chocolate and a good book. If there were any day that I would “come away” with you on, it would be a day like this one.
All illusions of serenity aside, however, I wound up studying for my last final and then heading out into the mist, boldly armed with my notes and a grocery list for Central Market.
More than likely, I’ll end up under your kitchen sink with a few of my friends.
The test went well – life is good.
[I must say that I shall miss rhetoric and Dr. Neeley. Style & Structure spring '09, bring it on!]
I also managed to turn in my last photo-assignment. [Late, but better late than never?] I always love spending time in the darkroom and I think I’ll miss that as well.
Watching an image appear on blank paper as it floats and bobs in the developer tub is a bit like magic, and I always find myself anticipating that moment the way I would rub a pencil over the pencil rub pads as a child. [please, someone say that they remember those?]
Of course it also reminds me of the song from Sound of Music [your life, little girl, is an empty page/that men will want to write on] and then I find myself humming while counting the seconds for the development time of my print.
At any rate, I happily trotted all over campus [from psych to library, back to the art building, and then to the village] and was grateful for my choice of flip-flops for all of the puddle-hopping [and puddle-landing] I wound up performing. The best part of the day was yet to come.
I might get cut up and wrapped around an old textbook, or just stuck under something messy.
At best, grocery trips are, well, somewhere between detestable and a necessary evil. They typically involve a million calls between HQ and Field Operative Little Who 1, and entirely too many choices which then translates into more phone calls.
Do we get the organic lettuce with the slightly bruised exterior?or do we get the perfect head that has been infected with noxious toxic chemicals? Paper towels – three pack or six pack? Bread – whole grain, multi-grain, whole-wheat, or nutty? Oh and while you’re in the frozen food section, would you mind picking up strawberries from the produce section?
In short, grocery shopping is not far up there on the list of things to do do on a Norah Jones day.
Somehow, though, a visit to Central Market transforms the ordinary grocery trip into something inspirational, charming and oddly calming.
It would be nice if someone made me into a kite. I’d like to be a kite.
We were having fajitas tonight, so bell peppers and guacamole ingredients were first on the list. Looking at the red, green, yellow and orange peppers in wooden crates, open market style was enough to bring me into the marvelous world that is the culinary arts.
I am amateur at best, but I relished the feeling of picking peppers like a pro, and there’s something about shuffling through loose herbs to find the right sprigs that lends an air of sophistication to the errand.
Winding ’round the maze into the bakery usually reminds me of the open markets we visited in Italy many years ago, and those are all good memories. [remember to close your eyes and breathe: CM is not for those in a hurry] Wandering into the cheese section tends to sharpen travel memories into San Gimignano, Reggio Emilia, and Siena.
Yes, all of this fit beautifully with my Norah Jones day. Come away with me…if we don’t make it to the Caribbean or Europe, I’ll be content with Central Market. 
But whatever happens, I will never forget the day I carried groceries home from Central Market.
