All quiet. Unless it’s not.

As you’ve noticed, things have been pretty silent here on the southern front. Actually, that’s rather presumptuous of me to assume you’ve missed my random ramblings but, hey, we’re all a bit narcissistic in these parts. Regardless, I haven’t had much to say the past few weeks. And I’d rather not say something just for the sake of it, you know?

Things are good. Just busy in that no school/holiday sprinkled/too hot-buggy-muggy to go outside/is it Monday already way that summertime seems to pass by.  I’ve been meaning to stop in to say hello, so, that should count for something.

Even now as I’m trying to type this, I have a cranky, post-nap 2-year-old angrily shoving finger puppets on my fingers. Which is really making me want to hit “save draft” and never come back to finish it. Instead, I named the post which makes it all feel more substantial, thus committing me to its completion.


So, what’s new? Lets see.

Courtesy of the four-day weekend, we finally had some time to hit up the Forsyth Farmer’s Market after our CSA pickup at Urbanna Farms. We’ve been getting loads of tasty squash, tomatoes, cucumbers and other goodies from our farmers but I’ve been missing the market’s fresh eggs and our freezer’s is getting low on good, local meat. So after an early CSA pick up, we ventured downtown to join the sweaty masses.


We arrived at the market shortly after it opened so there was a good variety to choose from. I scored some peaches, an incredible canary melon from Walker Farms, some beef from Savannah River, two homemade peach popsicles for my overheated girls and two dozen of my ever so desired fresh eggs.

After some shopping, basketball watching and twirling – by the girls, not me – we needed to head home. I know, I know, I’ve said it a million times. But Savannah is really hot and humid this time of year. I’m not exaggerating when I say I avoid all absolutely vital outside time from June 15 – September 15 (at least). The heat paired with a 4-year-old who was really, really tired after spending the night wandering the house and checking out the stray animals out our front window is a really bad combination. Were done with this family outing.

We walked the short distance to the car and it dawned on Em that we were, in fact, leaving the market. Despite warnings. A popsicle. Sing-songy voices.

There is no rationalizing with an exhausted, overheated child.

As I wrestled to get her in the car and out of the busy, traffic congested street, I dropped my eggs. My 24 beautiful, multi-colored, rather expensive eggs toppled to the cobbled street.

I may have said some not-Jesus-approved words in a not-positive-parenting fashion and perhaps shut the car door a bit too hard and went slightly overboard as I “explained” to Emery why that behavior is unacceptable and a perfect example of why she needs to stayinherbedallnightlongandSLEEPinsteadofwanderingthehouse. Because a child cannot thrive on 7 hours of sleep.

It was my frustration over the eggs and not so much the tantrum that fueled my tirade. I’ll admit that.

When we visited Em’s new pediatrician for her 4-year-old visit, we discussed Em’s less than stellar sleep habits. The doc agreed that her mid-night shenanigans, although often normal, aren’t acceptable and gave us a few suggestions. Although we have already tried many of her ideas without success, we decided to revisit the reward chart system.

Let me tell you, there is very little I can convince this child to do. But throw a little bribery – nay, rewarding – into it and she’ll be obedient forever. Or at least until she gets the promised ice cream.

I sincerely apologize to my high school art teacher. Once upon a time, I actually knew how to make things that didn't look like an 8-year-old girl got bored in math class.

I sincerely apologize to my high school art teacher. Once upon a time, I actually knew how to make things that didn’t look like an 8-year-old girl got bored in math class.

I have no problem dangling the proverbial carrot in front of the horse. The key is in how long you make the stick. We tried a “good morning”  chart a few months ago but promised the reward after 10 nights of good sleep. No bueno. Too long and the girl lost interest. Anyway, four nights may seem to be too lax but Momma is tired and we all want sleep and ice cream. Win-win.

How are you? What’s new? Are you surviving the summer? 


To market, to market.

Last February, we started buying the majority of our weekly produce and meat at our local farmer’s market. With the addition of our fall CSA share, the only grocery store produce I needed were things like bananas and apples. When the market closed for the season in December, I didn’t realize how much I hate, hate, hate shopping at the grocery store.

I can’t help but wonder how long that lettuce has been sitting in a plastic bag and what on Earth they sprayed it with to keep it from browning. If the produce isn’t sealed, it usually has an impenetrable wax coating that comes off only after a FIT bath. And the prices. Oh, goodness. Eight dollars for a pint of organic Mexican strawberries. It wrong on so many fronts.

Adding to my shopping discomfort, I can usually count on hearing that song from the early 2000s about a big yellow taxi and not knowing what you’ve got until it’s gone. Yes, I’d rather have spots on my apples. Please do leave me the birds and the bees. And no, I did not know what I had until it closed for the season.

Anyway. I missed our farmer’s market and Saturday morning routine.

Thankfully – so, so thankfully – the farmer’s market resumed on Saturday and I was there with bells on. Not really, but I did shower for the occasion.




If you’ve ever in Savannah, you’ve got to get some Perc in your coffee mug. They brew it at a lot of local joints and I’m never disappointed. I bought a pound of the Nicaragua Selva Negra and it’s heavenly.

I also picked up a head of cabbage grown by a local high school’s version of FFA, a bunch of dinosaur kale, beef from Savannah River Farms, and a beautiful dozen of eggs.

My itty-bitty refrigerator overfloweth.

And now, I wait eagerly for our CSA to resume (hopefully) next month.

Hi, I’m Liz and I’m a local/organic/sustainable/delicious food nerd.

Unrelated, my Facebook news feed has been taken over by people rambling on about some sort of football game and posting pictures of delicious looking finger foods. Oh, it’s the Superbowl? This cluelessness only happens when you’re married to a man who isn’t a sports fanatic. How did I get so lucky?

Farmer’s Market Find: Roasted Veggies and Squash Cookies

I’ve had a lot of fun with the goods from Saturday’s farmer’s market. So much fun, in fact, a single, lonely tomato, some cornmeal and eggs are all that’s left. I like to show you what I bought each week but I don’t usually elaborate on how I use it all. So, here’s a recap of what I bought and how it was used.

  •  Two dozen, free-range, organic-fed eggs
  • One bunch kale
  • slicer tomatoes
  • green peppers
  • Vidalia onions
  • Sicilian eggplant
  • yellow cornmeal
  • canary melon
  • zephyr squash
  • sweet peppers

Locally grown?

Summer is supposed to be a time to slow down, sip a sweet tea and watch the kids play in the sprinklers – and maybe even join them as the mercury consistently hovers right around 92 degrees. So, do that. The laundry will wait (trust me, I tried playing chicken and it wins every time).The bills will wait (unless it’s the water bill, they don’t mess around in these parts). But your kids won’t.

As the girls get older, it’s harder to do even simple things as a family. Grocery shopping with everyone in tow is the same stuff nightmares are made of. A trip to the post office requires approximately 15 pounds worth of fruit snacks and sippy cups. But we always try to make it to the farmer’s market together, even if it means each of us yelling, crying and demanding a snack at some point along the journey. If we all pout simultaneously, can we consider it an organized family activity? I think so.

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Farmer’s Market Find – Zucchini Bread

Fresh roasted coffee, carrots every shade from red to orange, and mounds and mounds of local peaches spread across the tables. E walks ahead of us and together, we bob and weave through the crowd to inspect this week’s assortment of goods. For our family, there is no better way to spend our Saturday mornings than shopping the booths at the Forsyth Farmer’s Market and finding some culinary inspiration. This week is going to be a crazy one (aren’t they all?) so it was nice to take an hour or so and enjoy the day.

I picked four small – but lovely – zucchini from Bethesda Farm. I initially planned to grill them with hamburgers from Hunter Cattle but as our vegetable bounty grew, I chose a different, sweeter purpose for those little guys.

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