Goin’ to Town

Today is a day for “goin’ to town”. Now, if you live “in town” you don’t need to go there. You’re already there. For those of us that live life in a wide spot off an interstate, town is a necessary destination at times.

Yesterday, as we were “goin’ to town”, we searched for an illusive Farmer’s Market. Never have I ever. Very strange procedures, indeed. One visits the “Farmer’s Market” ahead of time to fill out an order. Then, one must return to the same spot on Tuesday to retrieve the goods the farmer has selected and boxed for you. In my world, that dog don’t hunt. Sorry. I can pick out my own veggies at the local Raley’s.

Yesterday also included dining at a beautiful restaurant, dark and swanky. Nothing of the sort in the little town I call home. No restaurants with cloth napkins and employees wearing fresh black uniform serve to the residents of my town. But then, that’s why people like us “Go to Town” to experience the finer side of life.

Today, I’m making two trips to town. Again, it’s that time of the month. Oliver is off packing for puppy camp at this writing. In case you are new to Grievinggardener.com , Oliver is a 5 year old. Like all 5 year old’s, he is rambunctious and head strong. Oliver is a cream, piebald, standard-sized wirehaired dachshund with a liver nose and green eyes.

Falcor — A pretty close resemblance to Oliver

As his Mom-Oh, let me assure you there are times he needs to be with his own kind, to swim, play, and bring down the house. His friends at camp really can’t start the party until he arrives which will be at 8:00 am on the dot this very morning.

Then, after a 90 mile round trip trek across the desert, I’ll be picking up Louise (to my Thelma) and we’ll be off for a day of shopping thirty miles to the west. When you live in a small town, it’s easy to ignore fashion norms. One doesn’t need a nice outfit when helping to assemble a greenhouse, mow the lawn, or spray the weeds. Nope. Just a comfortable pair of shorts and an old t-shirt.

Well, next week, I’ll be taking off a couple days to visit a fancier place. When vacationing, it’s nice to have something new to wear for dinners out on the town. Today, I’m hoping Louise can steer me towards the latest and greatest in fashion. She’s wired like that. Thank goodness, because I think I missed those lessons as a young girl.

As for other news, there are plenty of Burner’s who are bugging out of their own towns and coming to a desert new mine. Burning Man is the cultural event of the summer. Certainly not a place I would ever feel comfortable, it’s interesting to observe those that make a yearly pilgrimage to the desert, come rain or shine. They are some strange dudes. Peaceful. Off in their own world. I hope their experience is everything they want and need.

Have Fun, Burners!

30 miles to the east, there’ll be a different kind of celebration. The yearly Cantaloupe Festival. Now, that’s something straight out of my past. Every year, a little valley town named Firebaugh held the Cantaloupe Festival. People came from miles around to enjoy a harvest celebration in a tiny town of 200 people. This weekend, there’ll be 4-H exhibits, country music, food vendors, and an evening dance. Just a small celebration in the kind of town I love the most. A small one.

A Country Festival is more for me.

Whatever you do, pick a neighboring spot and “go to town” yourself. Take a drive and visit a new place. Have some lunch and shop for a new look as you visit with a bestie. Visit a farmer’s market or a harvest festival. It’ll brighten your day and you just might find that “goin” to town” is a fun thing to do.

More tomorrow.