Up early for the Farmers' Market - it's hit its early-part-of-late-summer stride, and it was hard to be realistic about how much we can actually eat - or even freeze - in the next week. Above, however, my Migrant Mother pose - as ever, one's always very much aware how much this market is often a family affair (I bought my peaches from a young woman who I should think was about 7; the grandmother who used to make the most extraordinarily good tamales seems to have switched, alas, to frito pies. I know from talking to her granddaughter earlier in the summer that she just seemed to have had enough of grinding the corn to make the tamales ...
It was also a market full of flowers;
some of them hanging in strings;
some alongside other produce.
And, whilst I'm sure this is a recognized breed, who could resist the name of these tomatoes?