Testing out our skills as hip "locavoirs," my mom and I made a trip to the local Farmer's Market on Sunday.

Thankfully, she resisted the urge to dress in theme.

There's always such a nice selection of produce and meat, as well as plants. Although we didn't see anything in the dairy section, much to my cheese-loving dismay.

There was an entire shed dedicated solely to the sale of local produce. And that was our primary destination.

Booth after booth was manned by gregarious, young farm hands with thick East Texas accents.

As I strolled by, one took a glance at me, then hollared to his buddy, "biiiiiiiiiiig lemons,"--which, I suppose, is more subtle than "biiiiiiiiiiig melons."

(In the land of big Texas hair and big, fake boobs, no one has ever called my "lemons" big. I guess that just proves that they're not from 'round here.)

Anyway, I made it home with a nice, little bounty of fresh, local goodies, with the best of intentions of not letting them rot in my cabinet (like last time.)

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