mom told me once that it’s age, but i don’t know.
i stopped at the east side farmers market on my way home, just to see if anything caught my eye for dinner. i hopped off my bike and walked it around through the parking lot of the immanuel lutheran church… and i felt an egg in my throat. it made me want to cry because all of those people were doing what they love and making others happy with their wares.
there were people with kids and dogs and everyone was happy.
i don’t know why it affects me that way. it’s just a friggin’ market.