What makes an excellent Sunday?

A new recipe helps. I was shocking some quick eggs while a young mom used the next burner over. Carrots, tomatoes, celery, garlic, onions, sliced thin, all sizzling in a pan, a glug of oil. Meatballs were on the ready, soon to be rolled into her hot soup!

Glug is how vegetable oil comes out, yes? I think so.

This gave me some ideas, and I added carrots to my shopping list, which was part of my day plan. I got some nice fat ones, thick ones from Altai, the mountainous region to the south. My carrots are caked in Altaiskii dirt.

On my way back from the store, a wonderfully large superstore with everything in the world but tofu and peanut butter, I walked by one of the little old ladies selling vegetables. They sit at low tables, or on stools, peddling. I've been suspicious of them, they certainly have a quaint air about them, but I don't want to be duped, for all I know, they just pick up some veggies at the megamart and sit on the streets looking cute.

I felt pretty silly ignoring them as I walked by with my gigantic grocery bag, so I bought some kind of tomato pepper garlic onion paste in a jar. Maybe I was duped, but I think this little old lady makes it herself, with vegetables from her garden, and I think this is how she got to be so old and pleasant. I think I'll go back to her stand, and maybe she will remember me.

Also, a note about violin club. I spent Sunday evening there, from 6-930. Violin club rehearses four times a week, each rehearsal bookended with a potluck feast.