It is ungodly hot here. It feels like what I imagine Death Valley to be. There's really no point in complaining about it except that I don't feel like I belong in this town and so rather than try on my best *in the moment* coping skills, I default right to whining about it. I can deal with it, for the most part. My chief complaint is for the kids. Miles gets this red face in a beard pattern when he's out for just a little while. And Ivy just turns wet-even in the dry heat, that child sweats. It's been all about the popsicles. Trader Joes Carribean Fruit Floes, to be exact.
But THIS is what I'd like to see crusing up my dirt road, tooting some sweet song. I'm mojito green with envy that Kansas City is home to Fresher than Fresh. Can you think of anything more lovely on a hot summer's day? The trailer is a Shasta, so similar to our Santa Fe (the unwitting Tiki Ti). More still to love about tiny trailers peddling all-natural snowcones in flavors like Blackberry Lavender and Watermelon Basil.
photo Rich Sugg/The Kansas City Star
What tickles me the most is the business part. Just how much fun was creating this happy enterprise? Her packaging is brilliant, her simple logo and so my fantasy is that she enjoys focusing her energy on the amazing syrups. Oh, I've got her all figured out!
