Sunday Morning at the Farmer's Market

What is that under Highway 50?
Hurrah! Made a great discovery this morning with Mommy Nancy. We discovered something neither lost, nor hidden. Yes, we now understand how Europeans 'discovered' an already inhabited continent. Voila! We 'discovered' downtown Sacramento's Sunday Farmer's Market.

The market has existed for years, but neither of us visited it. As it happens, I invited Nancy to go there with me today because I didn't have time to hit the Fair Oaks Market yesterday and me here, all plum out of plums and other produce.

The market is so huge, it is difficult
to get a good panarama photo of it all.
First off, the Market is at least 5 times larger than any other Farmer's Market I've visited in California. I've been wildly envious of a Farmer's Market in Olympia Washington since 2002, only to discover there was one here in my county, virtually in my own back yard.

None of the photos I took today with my cell phone did the splender/glory of this market justice. The market not only has the expected fresh veggies, fruits, cheeses, potting plants, and such, but also has fresh fish and grass fed, free range beef, lamb & chicken. At its fish market section, there are HUMONGOUS carp, shrimps, octopus, strange ocean dwellers that appeal to the Asian palate and ping-pong ball sized Whelks! Can you believe it? WHELKS!

Whelks! A seafood so cool I have NO clue on how to
prepare it! Damned sure going to learn though!
I got overly excited with the available free range (REAL free range) chicken. I don't eat much meat anymore, but it's nice to know that when I do, it'll be raised happy, on clean food and not stuffed into one of those godawful henitentiaries where the chickens are overcrowded, etc. I'm dropping my plans to raise my own poultry (thank the lord for that, eh?).

Free Range Chickens! Don't have to raise them myself!
Nancy and I were so thrilled we did not hesitate to jump up & down like kids who just discovered the concept of birthday parties. We decided visiting the Sunday market is going to be an event for us whenever possible. I mean, think on it - I can now buy all my produce, meats and gardening starts at a Farmer's Market. The local grocery is now just for sundries. The thrill is that by shopping that way I will automatically further reduce the amount of over processed foods and cruely raised critters I consume. Damn. I am living the good life now. I wish it was located in MY end of town, but then I wouldn't get as much of an airing, would I?

The Farmer's Market is across the street from a South Sacto park and playground that totally blew the Mommy circuits in Nancy's mind. Toys that engage the mind, hand-eye coordination, rubber ground mats &/or bark everywhere underfoot. Toys that were - dare I say it - FUN! Here. Let Nancy demonstrate.

Nancy takes her Inner Child out to Play.
That's Nancy balancing on the left.

See the kid swinging around? And no Lawyers standing around ready to sue!
Why wasn't I out there playing too? Hey,
someone had to record all this for prosperity.
I did all I could to not to spend the mortgage money on produce and oh well, I nearly failed! My damages were a pink fleshed pumello, a pasture raised chicken ( hopefully for tonight's dinner, Moroccan style) in-the-shell chestnuts, cilantro, pomegranates (my seasonal favorite), 2 bags of fresh blue oyster and shitake mushrooms for the price of one (near to closing time at noon), and for instilation in the Gulag Garden, a nice in-the-dirt cluster of elephant garden. Oh, and I bought a small baggie of Purple Needlegrass seed for my back yard habitat project. Honestly - groceries ought to not make one so very happy.

Mud Puddle Splashtacular!

I've been home for a couple of days. Started with achyness and giddiness then, a more annoying than anything, intestinal glitch of the barfy kind. Ok, that's enough detail. The good news is, other than feeling weak and 'off', I'm actually not feeling all too awful. This happens about once a year - I get achy or barfy or whatever, and between bouts of gastro-intestinal distress I feel OK. I haven't done the big bad flu in a few years now, just these little flus. Still it is the flu and I'm home, keeping it real, keeping it all to myself (as opposed to idiot co-workers who have (so help me, some do this) tell you they are ill, but feeling ok enough to work. Thanks a lot people! No doubt one of you (or some poor soul on light-rail) gave this too me. You're too kind.

Enough bitchin'! Ran across this clip and it totally makes me feel happy. How can you watch this elk, one of nature's children play and not feel somehow refreshed - and dry. Watch this and I dare you not too feel at least a little up-lifted.



Been two days... am still laughing at this playful elk.

My Chicken Dreams Come True

Le Tres Chic, Lavender Chicken Condo

Hurrah! Tonight, for the first time, I put the girls in to their new, upscale Chicken Condo. Up until now, they've been crashing in their rather flimsy temporary quarters. But now they have, or so I hope, the protection of a portable and lockable pen. There are wheels in the back so I can roll them to a new spot as needed. Portable coops are called 'chicken tractors'. What sold me on it, is it's plastic, like a giant Fisher Price toy for chickens. I can disassemble and/or hose the whole thing out as necessary.

You can see the girls in there, bedding down for the night, no help from 'moi' necessary. *sniff* They grow up so quickly!
I fretted over whether it would be difficult to teach the girls how to go into their closing, night-time quarters (totally necessary to protect them from night roaming raccoons, skunks and opossums). Ha! After having their first meal out of their fancy feed container, as it was twilight, they climbed right up into their night-time roost as if they had made reservations and wanted to check out their accommodations. Why does their 'knowing how to be chickens' thing continue to surprise me?

"Bwwwak... I was hoping for better decor, bwwwaaak, I guess this will do"
I LOVE this coop. Has 2 pull out trays under the 'bedroom' (above), which I've lined with newspaper for easier clean-up. There is a little ventilation slit to keep the girls aired when I lock them in for the night. Their boudoir seems well insulated against excessive heat/cold too.

The girls are wondering about the 'privacy' of their spacious new quarters
That last view looks through the hole. They will - without my help of course - figure out to climb through that hole into the egg laying room. There is a removable porthole so I can remove their eggs, when those wonderful commodities make their first appearances say in February or March. I can very nearly taste that first omelet now.

My kitty Rum was looking a bit miffed that the girls are getting such first class treatment. Really - he was. So to make it up to him, and to keep the Animal Cruelty people away from my door, I washed and cleaned out his outside winter-time bed. Maybe being snug as a bug in a catbed (that would, I guess be a flea?) will keep Rum purring 'til spring.