I’m working on the porch with fan on and bug spray at the ready to fend off my latest fear of dengue fever when I hear the familiar whhooooOOOOP! of the vegetable vendor coming down the street.
I grab my keys and wallet and head outside, grateful for this path of least resistance to replenish my depleted-by-grocery-shopping-procrastination egg supply.
This man has become the super Catholic grandpa I never had. He showers me with blessings, tells me I look like a pretty doll, then sends me on my way with vegetables and benedictions for the coming day. It’s pretty much the most feel-good interruption to your research you could think of.