Usually, Bob and I do the Flagstaff Community Market together since Bob is the head chef of the household and thus set menu. He's an excellent cook so I don't argue. When I am adamant about something I want to prepare, he eats it and seems pleased at the night off from the kitchen. Anyway, we usually go and make a bike date of it, stopping somewhere for breakfast before or after and relaxing afterward with coffee and a newspaper. I greatly enjoy those mornings. In preparation for the coming week though, I felt the need to go on my own and pick up a few things since my cousin and her family will be coming up from Phoenix for a break from the intense heat.
I left at 8:45 a.m. and slathered on a heap of SPF 70. While the temperature was only in the mid-70's the risk of a sunburn is high at this elevation. Anybody thinking of visiting Northern Arizona for outdoor activities would be well advised not to let the cooler summer temperatures fool them. A sunburn is a sure sign that "you not from around here". I wore a light sweater though, since we were expecting strong, loud winds today and if I found myself in the shade for very long I'd get chilly. That's Flagstaff, baking in the sun; freezing in the shade.
Despite the winds, I saw plenty of people on the multi-use path that cuts through Ponderosa Trails. Mostly senior citizen dog walkers and young couples pushing baby strollers. Never saw another peron on a bike, not even a kid, which seemed a little strange and made me feel a bit lonely. I fought the urge to head back home and kiss the dogs. Bob will be home late this week. I concentrated on my goals: bread from the Village Baker, heirloom tomatoes, cucumber, Colton Country Jam, and maybe a little box of homemade fudge. Just a little box.
I felt less lonely upon arriving at the farmers market. It was packed with people and plenty of dogs to pet.
Lots of produce to choose from. And a new hummus vendor. I bought a small container of traditional hummus and a bag of whole wheat flat bread. Dinner.
Happily the Colton Country Jam people were there. The same two little old people every year. I always buy the Wild Maine Blueberry Jam. I wish they'd recognize me and say "You're that woman who always buys the Wild Main Blueberry Jam", but they never do. I should ask them next week why the jam is not called Wild Arizona Blueberry Jam since it's made in Phoenix. Of course, I could find out that they actually ship if from Maine (rendering it a faux farmers market offering, if you ask me) or worse yet, that it doesn't come from either Maine or Arizona! If that's the case, I'll just return to buying Bonne Maman Blueberry Jam; the best I've ever had.
|Not part of my low cholesterol diet but pretty damn good.|
I rounded out my morning with a trip to Old Town Creperie on Heritage Square. Usually, I can just walk right in, order and sit down but this morning they were packed. The hipsters preparing the crepes and taking orders were working intently to take care of everyone so I took the empty and undesirable table close to counter and read the New York Times on my Android and waited for my savory crepe. I broke down and got the on-line subscription after I found that I maxed out the free article limit in 2 days. I could easily live without TV but don't touch my Times! Naturally, I don't have a picture of the crepe since I gobbled up half of it up before I remembered I was supposed to photograph it first. Too bad. Not only was it lovely to look at but it also delighted my taste buds.
I needed that crepe though. By the time I was ready to return home, the winds had kicked powerfully. With 20 - 25 extra pounds on my bike, I low geared it all the way back to the house. I look forward to Bob's return when we can not only share crepes and coffee after a morning at the farmers market but also divide shopping load for the uphill trip home.