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Whither the farmer’s market

I have at least five friends who have their own Wikipedia entries. I think at some point, I’d like a legitimate Wikipedia entry of my very own. I would also like to specify that I would like it to be about literary things and not because I tried to assassinate Elmo the Muppet or fell down a well.

Above is Ian, who is famous in the world of cheesed pasta dinners.

I’m in Madison this weekend, to take advantage of some of my Wisconsin tax dollars at work and to visit a few friends in town. Friends who both have their own Wikipedia entries and some who do not. So far, however, the majority of my so-called creative seclusion has involved perusing mid-century modern and Scandanavian design shops and wishing that I had a million dollars to spend on vintage teak shelves and very low furniture. (A white leather Eames recliner for $500! How does that even happen?!). Tomorrow, I’ll hit the lovely Madison Farmer’s Market before heading to Lynda Barry’s workshop. I’m not going to lie: the fact that the Madison Farmer’s Market started in late April had a lot to do with my driving down to Madison for this writing thing.

That’s the heart of it. I talk big game about putting words on paper, but I don’t move my ass until there’s some hippy asparagus on the line.