Benny Grows Old, or Ben’s Ten

When I was younger, I said I wanted five boys.  Today I got my wish.  We traded our four girls for two boys and headed to the DeKalb Farmer’s Market in a birthday outing for Ben.  Not every boy would choose such a field trip for his birthday, but Ben isn’t every boy.  And with his brothers and friends along, they may have had fun at a fabric store.  Well, maybe not.  But the exotic vegetables, fruits, fish, and meat certainly kept their attention, and how fun to come repeatedly tell me they had pork butt steaks.  Even the slightly tedious checkout with a trainee (why didn’t I notice that!) was endurable by way of the game “guess how much all this stuff cost?”  Bradford won, having guessed correctly within 50 cents of the total. 

Now we have an odd assortment of food to use up, but it should be fun.  Quail, buffalo, lamb, grass-fed beef,

  malanga, bitter melon, jackfruit, and others.  The spices are really, really cheap, like $.67 for two cups of ground ginger cheap. 

I look at a trip to the Farmer’s Market to be an educational experience rather than a grocery trip, and we purchase accordingly.  Bradford was disappointed I wouldn’t buy a huge fish head so he could have the eye, but the thing would not have fit in my stockpot it was so big.  And what exactly would I do with a fish head, anyway.  I won’t ask what Bradford would do with the eye, because I probably don’t want to know.

But this post was supposed to be about Ben, and his birthday.  He knew almost everything I got him, but the two things he wasn’t expecting were big hits—a santoku knife and a stamp for his books that says “If this book should dare to roam, Box its ears and send it home to Benjamin L. Thompson”.  He practiced with his knife on the apples we bought today, he’s stamped several of his books, and now he’s practicing with his Jaw Harp in bed.  I have a feeling I’ll be listening to jaw harp and harmonica in the van tomorrow. 

My parents brought Rita’s Frozen Custard Cakes over to complete the celebration, and they just might be a new family staple at birthdays.  One had cherry in it, and Sadie named it Cheri Beri Ruchi.  Naturally the other one was named Pip Peri Pembo.

Now I’m tired from a long day, and I’m going to bed.  Happy Birthday, Ben!