Hey all y’alls,
(As Britney Spears might say.)
I am one tired woman. Drove to Asheville today, from Highlands, on a highway that clung to the side of the road, following a river, blasted between a mountain. Gorgeous, gorgeous. Met for coffee with my old friend Jane Carter, who is loving life in this Carolina mountain town. Read at Malaprop’s, which was great… though I think it is time for me to start reading new material. Usually I read from chapter four of the book, titled “Clay Bird,” the chapter about Missy stealing Louise’s bird. It’s a good one (self aggrandizing alert), but it’s time for me to read new stuff. The only problem is, I get embarrassed reading aloud the racier scenes, and most every other chapter has a racy scene.
(Which is really just a sublte way of saying: Go buy the book now!!)
Anyhoo–we have challenge number eight to attend to, don’t we? Can you believe we are here already, rounding the bend on the mother of all mother’s day contests? Running the final mile of the marathon? (Well, the ten-mile-a-thon?)
Challenge number eight is simplicity itself. What is your favorite thing about spring? Email me your answer, and please, for community sake, also post your answer in the comments section below.
My favorite thing about spring, hands down, is that I get to eat strawberries. Yes, I am one of those freaks who only eats strawberries in season, and the strawberry season in Hotlanta usually begins around May 1. Lord. A flat of berries bought from the farmer’s market creates a heavenly, honey perfume. And if you buy enough berries at once, you really are mandated to make a strawberry pie.
I had my first spring strawberry tonight. There’s this farmer who takes the leftover produce he doesn’t sell during the day, and goes table to table at downtown Asheville restaurants, shilling his goods. The friends I was eating with were like, “Oh there’s that old farmer dude trying to sell his leftover produce…” meanwhile, I was frantically waving him down to come to my table and sell me some berries.
Email your favorite spring thing to me at firstname.lastname@example.org and a nice, springy lottery ticket will be yours.