South Pasadena Market, Thursday, June 18, 2015

Selling flowers at the South Pasadena Farmers Market.


After six straight days of intense attention to studies, it was time for a short break. Jim and I drove to Santa Monica for an interlude at the National Council of Jewish Women Thrift  Shop there, an all-time favorite. The staff people are a delight, they have great stuff, and lots of it. Then a quick lunch at home (aka hotel), a class on using Word to format papers for Antioch, and we were off to South Pasadena to meet a nephew and his wife for dinner at the Farmers Market.

Hazy San Bernadino Mountains on the way to South Pasadena. There are forest fires burning here, as there are in Alaska north and south of Anchorage, but today's haze was probably due to the atmosphere and not smoke.

An important feature of travel in LA today, especially on the west side of the city (our side), was that President Obama was visiting. That meant that numerous roads and freeway sections were either closed, or limited in access. We took the coward's way out, and headed to South Pasadena without taking any freeways. That worked fine, and we kept assuring ourselves that it was just as fast as the freeways would have been. Except that we got lost in South Pasadena and took as extra 45 minutes to go about five miles. That's life in LA.  Yes, we had maps and smartphones, but there were two intersections of Meridian Street and Mission, both close to train tracks, and both near Fremont.


But -- life is good. We parked directly in front of Buster's Cafe on Mission Street, across from the Market, and had one of the best-ever chocolate milk shakes with espresso.

People on the lawn across from the South Pasadena Historical Museum on Meridian Avenue.

Wares at the Market -- broccoli and cauliflower,

Uncle Irving's breads (one of several bakeries),

fresh figs (you know I bought a box of those, and we shared them for dinner),

apricots, oranges, apples, berries, cherries, greens, veggies, mushrooms . . .

We stopped in at the Museum, and took a look at the photos and artifacts from the ostrich farming days early in South Pasadena's history.

The Cawston Ostrich Farm (apparently the only one) had many thousands of ostriches, whose feathers were plucked by the millions in the 1890s for hats, boas, and other feather decorations. The eggs were used to make curios, but the birds themselves weren't eaten.

The volunteer who showed us around claimed that this boa was a hundred years old.

Near the museum was a stone structure with a memorial plaque.

Long lines for dinners -- tamales, sushi, crepes, corn on the cob (Joe, a true Iowan, started with that for an appetizer), and more. We bought food from the various vendors,

and found a shady spot on the lawn in front of the South Pasadena Public Library for a picnic dinner.

A market basket with flowers, carrots, and more. After dinner we split up, Joe and Jen to shop, and us to begin the long journey back to Culver City.

We stopped briefly to listen to a band that had settled in -- small boy on the drums, an accordion, a keyboard, and a bass fiddle. Behind the band is a twelve-foot (?) high metal sculpture of a striding man.

On the way west, the sky settled into sunset and then dusk, with a crescent moon.

 Market flowers -  blooming leeks, and marigolds.