Ode on a Farmer's Market

Last year, when we moved to Studio City, we learned that the farmer's market was a mere three blocks away.  For the past fifteen months, the market has been not only a source of fresh organic produce for us, but also breakfast burritos, choo-choo trains, pony rides and star sightings.   The stop at Starbucks on the way, and the stroll down Ventura place has become a part of our lives and, like the friends we've made here, one of the things we'll miss the most when we leave Los Angeles.   Sure, sure, there will be other farmer's markets in our new community and we'll go and enjoy them, no doubt.  But, like the friends we've made here, this farmer's market will remain a special memory for us.  And honestly, I doubt we'll be seeing Jason Priestly at any of the farmer's markets up north.  

oh, pumpkin spice latte, you minx.  You had me at "hello"

This child is so over me and my camera--I think he's started writing to George Clooney to see if George will advocate for him to get the mama-paparazzi to leave him alone. 

Our Starbucks.  Lurve it. 

Not a famous person among 'em.  What a drag. 

This lady has made our breakfast on Sundays for the past six months.  We love her.  Because god knows I can't scramble a few eggs with diced ham and throw it in a tortilla.  

Husband and Ethan high on breakfast burrito. 

Husband and me

Ethan sporting the remains of his apres-burrito fruit popcicle. 

Ethan and Penny celebrate that he managed to eat more of the popcicle than he ended up wearing. 

pluots

green figs

basket of pomegranates 

squash! It's fall! Yay!

heirlooms.  So ugly, they're beautiful.

who knew there were so many types of eggplant?

concord grapes

fall bouquet

marigolds

peppers

who's got the Corona? 

tomatoes

purple baby artichokes.  If only I had a clue as to what to do with them. 

bye-bye, Studio City Farmer's Market! Thanks for the memories.