Which is why I feel ever so slightly dirty about what I'm about to share with you. If this were to get into the hands of the Fox News Corporation, we would soon be hearing about the stunning expose about the depravity to be found at the local farmer's market. Parents, you may want to cover your children's eyes.
We have to forgive the poor carrot. Times are tough. What's a carrot to do with the rent to pay? So he comes to the market, props himself against a wall, and offers to give someone a little company through the night.
But, oh, carrot, there's no need to be crude.
By the way, one of the many reasons I love my husband is that he not only remembered to save this carrot for the two weeks it took for me to get motivated to pull out the camera, he also took the camera away from me and did the photo shoot himself. And I must say, he did a stellar job, particularly since the camera is dying a slow painful death.
Note the bookshelf behind the carrot. It's obscured, but there's some Beowulf there. Because when the husband is not chronicling the depravity of the farmer's market, he likes to rock it Old English style.
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