My worms have good taste.

I looked in the worm bin a minute ago. The worms are going after the cucumbers and more or less ignoring the lettuce.

I feel their pain. When I go to a salad bar, I don’t even get lettuce. I’d rather eat sprouts or spinach drowned in ranch dressing, with lots of mushrooms and cucumbers and tomatoes and olives on top, and maybe some Bac-O’s or homemade croutons or sunflower seeds to make it nice and crunchy.

The worms I had in my first bin, a few years ago, loved mushroom stems … which gives me a primo excuse to buy some portabellas next time I go to the grocery store.

Speaking of mushrooms, I miss the Soulard Farmers’ Market. You could get terrific produce there for next to nothing. We’d buy mushrooms and Indian eggplant just about every time we went. It was great.

We don’t have anything like that here. If I had a kazillion dollars, I’d buy the old Crystal City shopping center west of downtown Red Fork and turn it into Tulsa’s own answer to the Soulard Farmers’ Market.

Emily

P.S.: My friend Sandy has a toddler, a scathing sense of humor, and — luckily for you — a new blog called Fear and Loathing in the Diaper Pail. I suggested she start blogging after reading yet another of her hilarious e-mails. Sandy’s e-mails read like the work of a woman possessed by the spirits of Erma Bombeck and Dorothy Parker. Bookmark her blog; even if you don’t have kids, her observations on motherhood will crack you up. And her kid is ridiculously cute.

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