Monday, January 17, 2022
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Name that Farmers Market Cocktail

ANYWHERE THERE’S A FARMERS MARKET–With Farmers Markets upon us, and from our friends at Baristanet, comes this.

Nothing takes me back to my childhood in Michigan like the smell of rhubarb. That and of course screaming out various words used to describe a woman’s reproductive parts and then running  from the law. In the summertime, when we had enough of the MI mosquitoes, we would drive out to visit family in the great state of Minnesota where the insect is the state bird. My grandmother, a staunch Swede, had an incredible garden which she protected from outside predators with various weapons. I can only imagine what she would think of this this mamby-pamby business we have in B-ville of saving every critter that invades your garden. If critter threatened your crop, critter must die. There was no discussion. But being a good Christian woman, she would always insist on a prayer before burial–after all, she was not a heathen and the dead (fill in the blank) was a creature of God.

Can you name that cocktail?

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