shopping

We went to the farm store in Alexandra’s minivan, the one with the bedding in the back from the time she injured her spine and had to be driven around lying down. We pushed aside blankets and pillows to make room for electric fence and hay bales. Alexandra layered up in her sweaters and winter coat and despite the warmth, tucked her long blonde hair behind a fur hat. Then we got in the car and crawled our way to town. “Oh, what they must think of me at the store,” she said, throwing an empty kambucha bottle on the floor and putting a fresh one in the cup holder. “They must think of me as that weird eccentric with the bed in her car... What a strange farmer I am.”

The picture made me laugh and that made her laugh, so we laughed together while the sun brightened red leaves and we ribbonned our way down the mountain.

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