Wine, Sweet Corn and Peaches

I was on a mission yesterday to visit a farmer's market in Columbia that I never knew existed. I was on a mission to get some local sweet corn and peaches.

Columbia is a river town just south of Marietta. It has a reputation as a rough town. It is a very historic town. It has a history as a rowdy party town. Riverboats used to stop there regularly and there were many bars and bordellos.

Today Columbia is not much different. It has some of the lowest priced real estate in Lancaster County, so it draws a very diverse population. It is very vibrant and active, but also has a lot of poverty.

I've never had a need to go south of the Route 462 bridge that connects Columbia to Wrightsville on the York County side of the river. Once I reach Route 462 I either turn right to head toward York, or turn left to head to Lancaster.

The market is just south of Route 462. I'm amazed it took me so long to find it. But then I'm not the brightest crayon in the box.

The market building is beautiful, very historic, federal style brick building. Unfortunately the market inside wasn't so vibrant. Since it was just my first visit, I cannot know for sure, but I'm guessing the economy has had it's impact here like everywhere else. There were too many empty stands. Nothing makes a market look worse than empty stands.

We did find some sweet corn and some peaches. But I think I'm a little over anxious. It seemed like both the corn and the peaches were picked a little early, just not quite at their full potential yet.

I had so much hope for this farmer's market, and it wasn't terrible. But I'm not sure we'll hurry back.

Besides the farmer's market we needed to pick up some wine to use in our cooking. I have several dishes I use wine in, both red and white. We hit the state store and I picked up a California cabernet and a white wine from southern Germany. The California wines have really come a long way. And I still have met a white wine that matches those of Germany.

I haven't had a drink in I don't know how long. But my scampi wouldn't work without the white wine, and my filet mignon wouldn't be the same without the red wine reduction.

We were headed to the cashier when this young guy with a big poof of hair and an untamed beard stumbled through the door. He was out of breath and shouting "Oh man it's hot out there! I drove a bike here! I thought I was going to die!"

Drove a bike here?

He gathered himself. Then he went straight for a big bottle of cheap whiskey, paid for it, and got back on his bike. It was a kids' bike.

Barb and I looked at each other in disbelief.

Now who would drive a kids bike into the state store for a big bottle of cheap whisky on one of the hottest, most humid days of summer?

An alcoholic who couldn't drive because of a D.U.I.

What a world we do live in.