Today’s workload was fairly light. After setting up the sign and the store and collecting the morning’s peaches, I watered the onions and thinned the leaves on the brussel sprouts. Then I spent the rest of the morning sorting, packing, and weighing peaches for the next four days of farmers’ markets. In the mid-afternoon, Leslie and I loaded the truck and drove to Blue Hill for the Wednesday afternoon market.
It’s strange to think that I haven’t yet been here for two weeks. It feels like I’ve been here forever. I find on a whole, that I’m a pretty introverted and quiet person, though not as much so today as I once was. I want to get to know the people in this sleepy peninsula town, to trade recipes with the women, to hear the tales of the lobstermen and their long years of an affair with the sea, to have game or knitting nights with friends over. But it’s so much easier and more…more comfortable to wearily climb the steep stairs to my apartment every evening, brave the frigid water in my shower (yes, there’s still no hot water), scrounge around for something to eat, pour myself a glass of chocolate milk, sit in a chair pulled up to the sliding glass doors (so that I feel like I’m sitting on the balcony without the disadvantage of mosquito swarms), and read a book, by myself, the silence settling around me like a warm, worn sweater on a frosty winter’s eve.
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