Vampires at a Saturday Market
Life's a bore, let's have fun!
As the dishwasher drools on behind me I sit here questioning what to even talk about. I secretly know what I’m going to talk about but it takes me a second to get there.
I am antsy. Springtime is for antsy behavior and I struggle with it. I watch my neighbors tend to their gardens— which are all beautiful in their own ways. I might live my JB Fletcher dream and pop over to someone’s house for a garden tour, but that is very social and I am a wimp. It’s my personal goal to become her when I grow up— gardening, being friendly (and nosy) to neighbors, and a unique obsession with murder seems like a good place to start. But I digress.
I watch all around me as my neighbors plug away like little bees, accomplishing their springtime tasks with vigor. But my springtime task is finished— we moved, safely and quickly. The cottage is set up to our liking, we are settled in.
Now I lack tasks, and lack something to do. I’ve dreamed of having free time, but now it’s here it feels so weird.
I sometimes live a double life. As I go through my day I find myself separating from my body a little. I suppose it’s disassociation. But my brain starts to catalogue moments for me to use later in my writing— and i’m not talking about this blog. I have a side project I’ve been pouring into for a couple years now, which geez how time flies. It’s a radio show, or television show, or podcast— I don’t know. But it’s a script. Actually, it’s a whole season now.
The blurb is two best friends get into some supernatural hijinks while trying to navigate high school and young adulthood— think one part Murder, She Wrote (sorry for the second reference to this show, I love it) and another part Buffy the Vampire Slayer. My point is, these characters are stuffed in my brain and sometimes I daydream to let them out. There is inspiration everywhere for this project, and I live within my head and without to soak in that inspiration.
I suppose this is my main task now, finishing out this project and seeing where it leads me. That and gardening, but I don’t have the tools for that yet. My writing, and daydreaming, are always bleeding into my everyday life. My brain constantly cooks some story on the back burner waiting for it to see the light.
On this Memorial weekend, Jude and I got to piddle around together for all of four days without work. I never have work, but she always does, so our time out and about in this grand new city is somewhat limited. Not this weekend though. You know the Lady Gaga line: “club club ‘nother club another club no sleep,” that’s a little what it felt like.
Friday night saw us at the Lynx game, WINNESOTA for real. My only thoughts— other than that should have been a blow-out and the Lynx WERE slacking I hate to admit— are have you ever had a Kona Big Wave on tap? Well it tastes like pineapple and sunshine, so I highly recommend.
Saturday we woke up late, hell yeah, and went to St Paul’s farmers market.
My resiliency has expanded (I didn’t buy anymore plants though I wanted them), but I can never resist a breakfast taco or bagel. Divas, these tortillas were out of this world— absurdly good. I’ve had a large Taquitos Amor shaped hole in my heart ever since we moved (may they come back to Memphis’ farmers market and thrive). I can’t praise these tacos enough. We both got the meat option: Chorizo, egg, and cheese, with onions and cilantro on a fluffy brilliant flour tortilla. For my gluten-free besties out there they did have blue corn tortillas that I will have to try this upcoming weekend because I am going back. I regret not buying a pack of tortillas when I was there so i’m fixing that wrong.
I am still on the hunt for a fantastic bagel, though Golden’s was pretty good. They did smash the bagel when toasting it which I think is a shame because a fluffy rich bagel is the goal. Maybe I’ll try Mogi bagel soon, they looked fucking delicious. But I will never fully complain about a nice cinnamon sugar bagel with creamy cream cheese.
Seriously, the market itself verged on being as good (if not better) than Nashville’s farmers market. It’s not as big but the booths pack a punch. We’re constantly discovering how seriously people take gardening here and the Market was full of produce, plants, flowers, and all types of goods. God bless the Midwest, they had cheese curds galore and fresh meats. Being easily accessible to farms has great benefits (I’m looking at you, eggs).
See I stand amongst the stalls and my mind springs into action again. Would a vampire go to a farmers market? would a werewolf? What ghouls and goblins lurk behind each stall or each alleyway? Is there such a thing as a creature who thrives off the cosmic energy of some old lady bartering with a farmer over the price of tulips? These are important questions I end up pondering.
This might be strange. Bloom you’re [redacted age], why are you daydreaming? You should have grown up. Well I didn’t, and I doubt I ever will.
I find myself daydreaming especially when we go on walks. Jude and I usually talk during our walks, but occasionally we both prefer solitude together. She likes hearing the sounds of nature, experiencing the wind, smelling the cool river water, admiring the trees. I enjoy the peaceful outside so my brain can work on everything.
I don’t know if I have ADHD but I do know my brain is constantly working— thinking and undoing stories in my head. I turn things over and over again until I think I have the right path forward— this usually changes once I sit down to write it.
Is my brain usually on fire? Yes, but that’s okay. I like it that way. Even if people don’t understand it.
Eating food is when my brain silences the most. Especially when there’s a burger, fries, and ice cream— maybe that’s why it’s my favorite meal? Well not my favorite meal but definitely up there. My favorite is meatballs, mashed potatoes and gravy, with a sweet jam; now that I think about it that meal is also like a burger + fries meal just in a different font.
We tried a place reccomended to us from our seat neighbors at the Lynx game: Dream Creamery In NE Minneapolis. I think I got the sloppiest, greasiest burger on the menu: the Dream Burger. It did smack, though the bun, secret sauce, and pickles were running down my arm at one point. The burger was a double smash patty with onions, pickles, sauce, and cheese.
My rundown of it: damn delicious. I do think a double is overwhelming because it was a block of meat. it was greasy as all get out, those high schoolers in the back loaded that bun/patty with butter.
The fries were crispy and red hot; everything you want from a fry. And the ice cream we got was peanut butter cookies and cream— a flavor I didn’t know could exist but am so happy it does. Find me outside there ordering a gallon. My only complaint— MORE PEANUT BUTTER but I am a PB LOVER. Jude said it had enough but I disagree.
Our Saturday wrapped up walking around the Cathedral Hill area, where the legendary Hill House resides. The empty street takes on a beautiful and eerie feel. We wandered past ghost tours, some lovely cats perched in windows, listings for million dollar houses— I love snooping, and those old haunted mansions.
My daydreams ran rampant around the ideas of ghost apparitions in the ancient halls of those houses. I do believe they are genuinely haunted, at least some of them are— how could they not be? Especially with Hill House, that is definitely haunted to hell and back. There is even a rumor that if you step into Hill House once you leave a ghost will come along with you.
Jude gives into my whimsy, I hope she appreciates it but it can be annoying. My mind runs off in any direction, taking her along for the ride, and she’s stable. She is a constant presence in my life to ground me, bounce ideas off of: my first reader, and gentle critic.
Her favorite holiday is also Halloween so I think we’re always toeing the line between ordinary and supernatural. Campfire stories told by our friends, old monster movies, and chilling murder books ignite our fancy. There’s no one I’d rather be spooked out with than her.
Thanks for reading my very strange wanderings through my mind. It’s always a pleasure to unlock some door to let others in.
I’ll be seeing you next time!
Sincerely,
Bloom and Jude
P.S. follow us on instagram!
G-ZJSB8QMLX5
I would die and/or murder for that cheeseburger