On Pike Place, and Coffee, and Friendship
Monday, August 25th, 2008
Four potted raspberry vines stared accusingly at me, but I managed to ignore them as I made my way to the car. I needed a break. I needed to lay off the cooking, baking, cleaning, planting and harvesting and steal a few hours of walking, shopping, talking and laughing. So no … I didn’t feel the least bit guilty as I walked past those pots. The raspberries could wait.
Pike Place Market is a forty-minute drive from our little farm. I spent that time sipping a latte–even though I knew my friend
