A Parisian adventure in Perry

Surprisingly, my Parisian-themed visit to the local farmer's market in Perry, New York did not go as planned. First of all, I was the only one appropriately attired while everyone else in our group was out-fitted as Seattle-based hobos. When Savannah and I arrived at Geri's house, I was thrilled to see her daughter Katie was here from Boston. "Savannah, take my picture in front of Katie's sports car," I squealed in delight. "How does having your picture taken in front of a Honda make you feel French," Savannah replied in disgust, walking away so that Geri had to begrudgingly take my picture.

Before acquiring a street-side table at what was quoted as "the smallest farmer's market in the world," we ordered drinks at Burlingham Books. "Watch the store," said the barista to the girl stocking shelves, "there's a slew of people coming in for drinks." Slew? I've never been part of a slew before. A bushel and a peck...yeah. But not a slew. "You know, I said conversationally while the poor guy who ended up just wanting a Mountain Dew waited patiently behind us while we invented unique and whimsical drink concoctions and then changed our minds a million times, "a jiffy is an actual unit of time equaling 1/100th of a second." The busy barista nodded, not caring.

Equipped with nifty drinks, we settled in for some serious people and dog watching while we were regaled by live musical entertainment. "That's Poncho and Lefty," I gasped, recognizing the beloved Willie Nelson song. "Yeah, just like in Paris," mumbled Savannah as she snacked on a sweet bun. Picking through the bag of blueberries, Katie came across a miraculously mammoth berry which spurred a slew of snapshots. "I wish our table had flowers," I sighed wistfully. "It has a rock," Savannah observed, "how could you possibly want more?" But I DO want more. Katie had a friend stop by at our table (presumably to admire the decorative rock) and, after we showed her a zillion pictures of the giant blueberry, she invited Katie tubing on Silver Lake. Intuitively sensing my disappointment (perhaps from hearing me say, "I'm disappointed.), Katie reassured me that perhaps tubing wasn't for me. "If you do it right," she warned, "your arms hurt." I was skeptical but trusted that Katie just wants me to be safe.


We observed friend and fellow Amy gracefully balancing small children and pecks of peaches. When we accused her of child abuse as her daughters staggered beneath the weight of her produce, we watched as Amy ingeniously attempted to transport her tomatoes via her girls's scooters. A caring friend would have helped as Amy's peaches and tomatoes tumbled into traffic but a real friend photo-documents the incident to exploit it on her blog. You're welcome, Amy.

Back to Geri's to celebrate Katie's birthday with a classy layer cake. Geri's husband Gregg was assigned the job of selecting said classy layer cake. "Wow," Katie remarked, admiring her classy layer cake, "Look at all that furry frosting!" "Is it a dog or a cat," Geri said, squinting at what was clearly a cute culinary canine before she began cutting slices. "Don't give the birthday girl a piece from THAT end of the cake," I protested. Symbolically speaking, that marked the end of my faux Parisian adventure in Perry. "Thank goodness," sighed Savannah.