Corn

A couple of weeks ago I covered part of a shift at the farmers' market while Julie attended a baby shower. I got a call as I was getting ready to drive to town.

"They're almost out of corn at the market," I was informed. "So, we're picking more for you to take up. Just pull out to the patch when you get here and we'll load you up."

They did load me up.

Bushels of corn on the seats, bushels of corn between the seats, bushels on corn in the back, bushels of corn on top of bushels of corn. The Beachy Buggy was full of corn.

"I'll never come home," I groaned. "I'll be stuck there selling corn for hours."

I was amazed at how much corn Naomi and I sold. "It's four for a dollar," we'd say. "Just picked this morning." Then someone would stop and buy a couple of ears and someone else would buy half a dozen. 

We didn't sell out, but we did sell a lot. It might have helped that we threw in a couple of extra ears whenever someone bought a dozen.