The Market Days of Summer

This past weekend was pretty much the last day of summer in my opinion, at least in this town. Starting today, all the damn students began their pilgrimage back to Ann Arbor, disrupting bus routes, crowding eateries, and just plain getting in my way. And now that I am a grizzled 29-year old who was herself moving into the dorms eleven years ago, I am allowed to complain.

Knowing that the apocalypse was upon us, I made it clear to the Lady and Kari that they only had one chance to fulfill their promise to go to the Farmer's Market with me: Saturday.

I also made it clear that we needed to get there as early as possible because not only is everything picked over by noon, it gets so crowded that you can't really breathe. Of course, that could be all of the hippies, but I'm not sure.

So we made plans for them to meet me at my house at eight in the morning, we'd head to the Market and then to breakfast (at the best breakfast place in town!). Because they had a forty minute drive to get here, they were forced to get up and out of bed before me.

The first text I received that morning was from Kari at 7:15, "We're on our way. I hate you." I responded that I was still in my cozy bed, which prompted her to text, "Now I'm not getting you coffee from Biggby." I responded that bed was better than coffee, and she responded that she was going to punch me in the face.

And then it got really vulgar, and we all know that I am not a vulgar person, so here are some pictures of the Farmer's Market (oh, and she still got Biggby coffee for me):

(I bought some raspberries. They were delicious.)