the day the veg box cometh

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, and when dinosaurs roamed the earth, I didn't much like vegetables. Spinach, greens, broad beans, cauliflower - you name them, I loathed their appearance on my plate. I would have fed them to the dog, but we didn't have a dog. So I ate them, but only because I wasn't allowed to 'get down' from the table until I did. I'd much rather have had a bag of sweets instead.

Fortunately, as we get older, our palates change and mature. Now I love vegetables. Adore them, even. By contrast, e-numbered confectionery has no place in this house. Dark, rich chocolate with a cocoa content of 70% or over is, however, another story.

Anyhow, I digress.

Some months ago, we decided to trade supermarket, plastic-packaged, air-freighted, and unseasonal vegetables for those straight from the soil and hailing from a farm in Devon. And so it is that these days we enjoy wonderful seasonal, organic English produce at the peak of its condition. With extra mud to garnish.

And so now my favourite day of the week is Wednesday. The day the veg box cometh.

Oh, lovely veg box, come hither....

... and let me see (oh, and eat) your lovely wares.