Moment of Zen

Moment of Zen

This afternoon, I wandered south toward Delano, a little dot on the map a little south of my home. I hadn't hit the Delano Community Market all summer. Which is something of a shame, since their veggies are second to very few I've ever had. Work and all that other junk that seems to clutter up my life kept me from wandering in that direction. In fact, it took a call to Shyam to confirm that they might still be open, this October the Oneth.

The Delano Community Market, since I didn't mention it, is run by a little community of Mennonite farmers. They do a lot of good work out that way, canning and preserving and baking on top of selling their produce. The quality is excellent, and you can't argue with the prices.

Well, you could argue about the prices, but they're so cheap, and the people running the market are so nice, you'd be crowned King of All Assholes.

Anyway. The Moment of Zen: As I'm driving down Highway 411, heading south, having just entered Delano, I pass a black, horse-drawn buggy, heading in the same direction I am. I'm slowing down, at this point, to turn down the road running to the market, and I take a look at the gentleman and two young, blond-headed boys riding in the seat of the buggy.

All three are dressed in the traditional garb of those folks--all in dark trousers held with suspenders, dark button-down shirt, the man driving wearing a flat-brimmed hat, sporting a beard that ran half the length of his chest. All three something of an anachronism, novel for the moment.

I notice, as I pass by, that the driver, holding the reins of the horses in one hand, his holding a bag of potato chips over so that each of the boys can reach into it.

It was quick, but unmistakeable.

The bag had some blue on it. Might have been Ruffles, could have been Cool Ranch Doritos, now that I think of it.

But it made me smile.

I'll mention that I bought a dollar's worth each of banana, ando and habanero peppers. The first two I will either cut up into a salads, or perhaps use as pizza toppings. The last I plan on experimenting with on a hot-wing recipe.

I also bought a jar of honey (With the comb) and a few preserves that I intend on giving as Christmas gifts this year.

And I'll close by mentioning that I refrained from describing the preserves I was buying as "Hella-Good" to the gentleman manning the counter at the Community Market. Just didn't seem proper. So, I'll just tell you folks, owing to that not many of you are of the Amish or Mennonite sects.

I'm thinking Gunny Walker is the only one.