Think. Think. Think.

Day 293

I pull open the kitchen cabinet to an avalanche of brown, plastic Kroger bags.  I can’t throw them away but instead save them with the intention of bringing them back to the store to recycle.  Each week, I remember my stash only after I pass the collection bin in the front Kroger entry. 

In the last week, I receive an email asking for bags.  But who?  Think.  Think.  Think. 

I stuff the bags into the open mouth of one and tie the plastic handles to prevent the bags from spilling out.  I look at the clock.  The school bus arrives in thirty minutes.  It’s enough time. 

I grab the car keys from the top of the piano, wave goodbye to the dogs and jump in the car.  I drive the mile or so to Finn Meadows Farm slowing down when I hit the dirt road to the farmhouse.

I pass the newly planted apple trees on my right, the barn on my left.  Black and white hens peck at the ground.  A hound dog barks when I park near the garage door.     

The door hangs opens so I run in and drop the bags on the worn, folding table that holds supplies for weekly CSA members to use for weekly vegetable pickup.   

Back in the car, I arrive home with ten minutes to spare.