How Sweet It Is

Saturday morning found our family at a location that has become a part of my weekend routine: the Davenport Farmer's Market. Never mind that it was quite brisk and blustery, the five of us casually strolled around the market, chatting with several friends we met along the way, picking up the necessary items, hormone and antibiotic free chicken and farm fresh eggs from Mr. Grossman, ground beef, sausage, and chuck roast from Mrs. Geest, and playing at the park.

Along the way, I spotted one of the vendors selling locally grown, chemically free strawberries. It did not matter that they were $5.00 a pint, they looked fabulous and their taste did not disappoint; eating one was like eating a spoonful of jam. Russell, who has distinguished himself among the boys as the vegetable and fruit eater, was delighted with these sweet treats. His face and hands quickly became sticky and stained red, and he continuously signed "more" until I had to cut him off lest we had none of these divine berries for later.  For two hours, we sat, talked with friends we had not seen for awhile, watched the boys climb, run, and be little boys (pull tiny American flags out of the ground, pick up unclaimed soda cans and dump them out), all the while enjoying the view of my favorite body of water, one choppy Mississippi River. 

Inspired by the blown-over sandbox umbrella rolling loose throughout our back-yard, Thomas, upon our arrival home, suggested we stick it in the ground and eat the chocolate and raspberry filled doughnuts we had picked up at a local shop on our drive up Brady Street. Thinking it a good idea (what else is there to do on a Saturday afternoon?), we complied, pulling out our "picnic" afghan, usually reserved for our "Tuesday Picnic with Pooh," snuggled in and yes, ate the remainder of the strawberries.