When we first moved to Seattle someone told us that you can tell a true Seattlite by the moss growing on the north side of their head. We laughed. This evening Scott went to put on his warm fuzzy slippers and noticed that they were fuzzy yes but a little damp. Upon further investigation it seems that our closet has become a petri dish. To date we've had three casualties (already in the dumpster) and more than ten wounded (see photo).
Monday, October 29, 2007
Penicillin
When we first moved to Seattle someone told us that you can tell a true Seattlite by the moss growing on the north side of their head. We laughed. This evening Scott went to put on his warm fuzzy slippers and noticed that they were fuzzy yes but a little damp. Upon further investigation it seems that our closet has become a petri dish. To date we've had three casualties (already in the dumpster) and more than ten wounded (see photo).
Our Little Tree Hugger
When we moved to Seattle Eve was only a few months old and therefore it is no surprise that she is partial to the Seattle environmental-way of thinking. As far as we can tell she is leaning towards the Fruitarian approach (eating plants that die of their own accord). Her favorite, as you can tell, is fallen leaves.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
A Farmer's Market
Saturday morning is Market time at the Neuner’s. After breakfast we don our hats and jackets and set off for the University District. Now those of you familiar with Farmer’s Markets will know that there are cheaper places to buy one’s produce. We know this too. However we’ve realized that, for us, it is worth the extra money for the few things we do buy not only for the superior quality (bugs and dirt with almost every purchase!) but primarily for the experience.
First of all, there are the vendors. One man is using a pocket knife to whittle bite-sized pieces of fruit in his hand which he then holds out for people to try as he chats with his customers about what varieties he carries and proudly confirms that everything he sells is certified organic. At another stand I over hear the owner explaining which breed of chickens their eggs come from.
You can tell some vendors are hired by bigger farms. These stands have white moving vans to bring their produce in and as many as 5 people working. And then there are stands like the one owned by the Asian dad who sells a few greens, carrots and baby bok choy (any bunch for $1.50). His help consists of his 6 year-old daughter and 4 year-old son who politely and silently collect the money and put it in a tin box.
Our fellow shoppers include the typical Seattlite: thin middle-aged couples dressed in their Wellies with soiled canvas bags slung over their shoulders bulging with fresh organic produce with not a plastic bag in sight. Then there are the casual sight-seeing shoppers dressed in designer jackets out walking their sweater-clad dogs who leave with a bouquet of flowers. We’re somewhere in between. I must admit that we do taste things we never intend to buy (the cheese stand is a favorite) and maybe it’s guilt over this that has caused us to buy our broccoli and lettuce from the Market in addition to the tomatoes.
One week I made the mistake of buying tomatoes from a second, or perhaps third, -hand fruit stand aptly named The Rising Sun.. They looked alright: big red beef steaks and they were half the price as the seconds at the Market. Well let’s just say that I haven’t made that mistake again. Come to find out they were only posing as tomatoes. We still haven’t figured out what they were but who cares, we have Market tomatoes.
So what marks a real tomato from an imposter? I’m trying to be a more positive person so I will just talk about the real tomatoes and leave it at that. A tomato needs to be fist of all soft without being mealy. This is of utmost importance. Then the taste must be strong and juicy with a tang to it. If you don’t know what I’m talking about try a Green Zebra sometime as I believe they are the best example of a tomato’s potential.
There is something very fulfilling about buying produce that isn’t shiny with wax from people selling out of the back of their pick-up truck. We love the fact that we recognize people and know which stands have the best broccoli and which ones have hot cider that is worth paying for on extra chilly mornings. Yes it is more expensive but come rain or shine (and it’s more rain than shine) we will be at the Farmers’ Market Saturday morning.
Rebekah Neuner
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Let there be blog...
And so, due to popular demand, we are now launching ourselves full throttle onto the internet superhighway. Please don't boo us off the stage.


Raised in a small South Dakota mining town where he learned the value of a sturdy pickaxe and native tubers, Scott is a man's man who knows the meaning of the word testosterone. Apart from devouring freshly slain beasts of the forest, Scott enjoys sharpening his tools, lifting heavy objects, and throwing a ball at a hoop suspended ten feet off of the ground. He also enjoys Romantic Era poetry and Italian cooking.