Summer isn’t even official yet and I’ve already succumbed to the wily ways of the summer squash.
In short. I’m doomed.
It’s just that when you see them at the Farmer’s market, all cute and pattypan-like (and pattypan makes you think of pattycakes which makes you think of babies and nursery rhymes and the fact that you are not yet betrothed or anywhere close to it and then you have to buy them because you may not have a child but you can have cute little summer squash right at your fingertips and that is kind of the same thing, no?) and lined up in a row. You are just so damn depressed excited that you just have to buy all five.
They are harbingers of good things to come. You can feel it.
Maybe summer. Maybe the man of your dreams. Maybe (e) all of the above.











