For weeks I’ve planned to fulfill my commitment to eat local by heading to the Green Bay Farmers’ Market while I was there for Labor Day Weekend (and, of course, the Shawano County Fair, woot for small, hometown high school reunions in the form of the Firemen’s Beer Stand).
So that’s exactly what I did.
I made out my shopping list.
I woke up at 6:35 AM.
I hit the snooze when I heard it pouring outside.
I hit the snooze again when I heard it still raining the second time.
I finally meandered to downtown Green Bay at 8:00 AM with my list. I got a whole chicken from Foster’s Organic Acres out of Little Suamico (and will email them with how delicious it is after I roast the sucker with a can full of Lakefront’s Riverwest Stein up it’s butt). I also got smoked ham hocks from Maplewood Meats and will boil them with green and yellow beans from the market to make my mom’s famous bean soup. Bacon, also from Maplewood, crisped up and crumbled will finish the soup. For breakfast I got eggs from Sweet Dirt Acres that I’ll scramble with peppers, jalapenos, and Renard’s Cheese (cheddar).
All this I got in an hour and it was only on my way home to the west side of Green Bay that it started to sprinkle again.
*Whew* Made it!
I got home.
I noted the firetruck and police car up the street.
I pulled in the driveway and punched the code to the garage.
The light blinked, but the door did not open.
I punched in the code again.
The light blinked at me in mockery.
The neighbor leaned out his window, “Your power out, too?”
Long story short, I don’t have a key to my parent’s front door.
My sister does, though.
She lives 30 minutes away.
I walk down the street to ask Mr. Fireman how long the wait will be. 3 hours? 12 hours?
“I don’t know,” he said, “WPS hasn’t even gotten here yet. There are 50,000 people without power in Appleton from the storm last night.”
Awesome. 12 hours, then.
I call my sister and arrange a pick up. As I head to Shawano, where she lives, I make plans to turn my lunch with Dad into breakfast and a trip to WalMart for a change of clothes (Let that be a lesson…always leave your house looking your best. Don’t think you can just shower and get ready after you run a short errand in the morning).
“That’s funny,” I tell my Dad, “there wasn’t a storm in Green Bay, how did the neighbor’s tree fall on the line?”
“Oh, sure there was,” Dad says matter-of-factly, “there was a tiny pin prick of yellow on the radar screen this morning.”
I spend the day in Shawano, hitting up the fair, eating breakfast at a local greasy spoon that, no doubt, doesn’t use locally-sourced ingredients, bygones. I enjoy a diet SunDrop from the tap at the Firemen’s Stand (or 3). I head to my favorite sister’s house to pick up the key. I return to Green Bay wondering if I’ll just pick up my pajamas and head straight back to Shawano for the night.
I arrive, once again, at my mom’s house. I enter through the front door.
I flip the light switch…
I call my Dad. I call my sister. I take a shower. Oh, the long-awaited shower.
I unpack my Farmers’ Market finds and watch the Brewers beat the Astros.
The only Wisconsin-made product I ingested that day was the SunDrop. Three glasses.
*Sigh* The best laid plans…