Farmer’s Market

Mushroom Linguini

 

Master and me go to the Farmer’s Market as much as possible.  As soon as they open (May-ish), until when they close (September or October, depending on the year), we go, unless something gets in the way.  We have always loved the Farmer’s Market for a lot of reasons.  For one, you get tasty tasty nibblin’s at super inexpensive prices.  For two, we’re big fans of buying as local as you can.  (Better for the Earth, you, local economy, etc).

Of course, this particular Saturday, there just so happened to be a new vendor there, who sold pasta.  Master stopped by the table, and said “Wow, this all looks like stuff you’d love, Kitty!”

I grinned, and mainly waited while Master looked around at everything.  Finally he picked up a package of mushroom linguini, and put it in front of me.

“Does this look like something you’d like to eat?”

“Yes, Master.”

And, while I did say that I’d like it, I didn’t jump up and down and beg for it, because he hadn’t given me leave to do so, and we both generally see begging as a “bad girl” thing.  Not wanting to be bad, or behave improperly, I had stifled myself slightly, and didn’t jump up and down or really make it known that I’d love mushroom linguine, most likely, and please please please can I has it?

After a couple of minutes of looking at the mushroom pasta, and some other stuff, Master said that he’d decided we had the food we needed for the week and we’d best be running along home.  We got in the car, and I was just sitting there in the air conditioning, enjoying the change from the direct sun.  Master says to me:

“I’m really surprised!  I thought you’d want that mushroom linguini!”

“I did want it, I just didn’t want to ask for it, because you already bought me so many other things.”

Literally, Master turned the car around (we were still in the parking lot), and went right back up to the booth to buy the pasta.  It’s so hard for me sometimes, to say that I’d like something.  I never want to come across as bratty, or greedy, or spoiled to Master.  If he just bought me something (and even if he didn’t), I don’t always feel that it’s OK to just ask for things, or ask for more things.  When I work, I give Master all the money I make.  It is his money to do with as he likes.  With all the things he does for me (even excluding things that cost money), asking, wanting, or needing anything just feels so greedy or wrong sometimes, even if logically I know otherwise.

He didn’t need to turn the car around and then pick up the pasta.  He wanted to.  It is a lucky kitty who is so well taken care of by her Master.  Pasta or no.

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