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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/2bJ5nQy:this-is-furious replied to your photo “Heirloom tomato tasting for a farm tour. (at Laughing Earth)”
Oooh what a delicious idea!
It was! Tomatoes, a little dish of salt with a tiny spoon, and a little dish of olive oil, and then there was some bread if people wanted substrate.
There was some kind of fundraising organization loosely affiliated with the agency in charge of raising funds to conserve farmland that had a kind of donor-courting Farm Tour thingy. It was… nice, but… we weren’t really sure what was going on? Still and all, we got to eat the fancy cheeses they brought, so we counted it as good.
The highlight of the event, in the retelling, is that FarmBaby had been playing in the sprinkler beforehand, and didn’t want to get dressed when people came over. The woman who had been babysitting her (a CSA member who is just her best friend in the world, and watches her for three hours every Thursday afternoon, which is the highlight of her week) managed to con her into a cute party dress, but she would not let us put her diaper back on, so, throughout the entire reception, she was underpantsless, and it would have been fine except she was tired and kept sitting in her mother’s lap and waving her feet around, which really put her y’know, intimate personal area on display pretty effectively. And like, I mean, she’s two, nobody cares, but it was a fundraising kind of thing and everyone was taking publicity photos, particularly of the Poster Child Family For Farm Conservation, so there’s my sister and her husband posing nicely, and then the entire center of the photo is FarmBaby’s naked crotch, so. My sister spent a lot of time trying to pull her party dress’s skirt down so it wasn’t quite so much of the photo. In the end I managed to get her into a diaper with a promise of playing in the hay wagon, but that was after the photography was mostly over with. So I hope they got some usable images and nobody has to sit there and Photoshop a diaper onto that kid. (I don’t think any of the staffers were really all that accomplished at Photoshop, and it felt weird to offer. Hey guys, if you want, I’ll erase my niece’s baby genitals from the photo, I do retouching, it’s cool. Hm.)
Anyway, that story’s gonna get told a lot in about fifteen years when Farmbaby starts dating, don’t worry. That’s how my family rolls. “Yeah there were all these rich donors in the backyard, and there you are putting your toes behind your ears because you could do that when you were two… Long story short, that’s why the current US Senator for this district has seen your private parts, honey.” (I have no real idea who the muckety-mucks were, but one lady with a polo shirt whose collar was standing straight up came over to talk to us very pleasantly and earnestly, and she had a diamond-crusted monogram of her own initials on a chain around her neck, and it was really something. Another lady was wearing actual honest-to-god jodhpurs.)
Everyone was very lovely, but I was really glad I’d taken a second to put on some linen crop pants instead of the torn cutoff sweatpants I’d been working in all day, because I felt really schlubby. As it is I’m hoping I get cropped out of the photos.
Oooh what a delicious idea!
It was! Tomatoes, a little dish of salt with a tiny spoon, and a little dish of olive oil, and then there was some bread if people wanted substrate.
There was some kind of fundraising organization loosely affiliated with the agency in charge of raising funds to conserve farmland that had a kind of donor-courting Farm Tour thingy. It was… nice, but… we weren’t really sure what was going on? Still and all, we got to eat the fancy cheeses they brought, so we counted it as good.
The highlight of the event, in the retelling, is that FarmBaby had been playing in the sprinkler beforehand, and didn’t want to get dressed when people came over. The woman who had been babysitting her (a CSA member who is just her best friend in the world, and watches her for three hours every Thursday afternoon, which is the highlight of her week) managed to con her into a cute party dress, but she would not let us put her diaper back on, so, throughout the entire reception, she was underpantsless, and it would have been fine except she was tired and kept sitting in her mother’s lap and waving her feet around, which really put her y’know, intimate personal area on display pretty effectively. And like, I mean, she’s two, nobody cares, but it was a fundraising kind of thing and everyone was taking publicity photos, particularly of the Poster Child Family For Farm Conservation, so there’s my sister and her husband posing nicely, and then the entire center of the photo is FarmBaby’s naked crotch, so. My sister spent a lot of time trying to pull her party dress’s skirt down so it wasn’t quite so much of the photo. In the end I managed to get her into a diaper with a promise of playing in the hay wagon, but that was after the photography was mostly over with. So I hope they got some usable images and nobody has to sit there and Photoshop a diaper onto that kid. (I don’t think any of the staffers were really all that accomplished at Photoshop, and it felt weird to offer. Hey guys, if you want, I’ll erase my niece’s baby genitals from the photo, I do retouching, it’s cool. Hm.)
Anyway, that story’s gonna get told a lot in about fifteen years when Farmbaby starts dating, don’t worry. That’s how my family rolls. “Yeah there were all these rich donors in the backyard, and there you are putting your toes behind your ears because you could do that when you were two… Long story short, that’s why the current US Senator for this district has seen your private parts, honey.” (I have no real idea who the muckety-mucks were, but one lady with a polo shirt whose collar was standing straight up came over to talk to us very pleasantly and earnestly, and she had a diamond-crusted monogram of her own initials on a chain around her neck, and it was really something. Another lady was wearing actual honest-to-god jodhpurs.)
Everyone was very lovely, but I was really glad I’d taken a second to put on some linen crop pants instead of the torn cutoff sweatpants I’d been working in all day, because I felt really schlubby. As it is I’m hoping I get cropped out of the photos.
