|Colorful, locally grown bell peppers at Hollygrove Market|
Every Fall, I feel the urge to search the web for u-pick farms and local produce. I'm not much of a gardener myself, shying away from dirty fingernails and mosquito attacks, but the prospect of pumpkin patches and fairytale gourds draws me out to the country—normally. This time, though, we traveled less than a mile before pulling up at an urban farm.
|The gardens at Hollygrove Market|
|The Pitot House on Bayou St. John|
Three-year-old Charles picked most of the flowers in the front yard before we strapped both kids in strollers and took a quick tour of the house and its period furnishings. The home takes you back in time to when living on Bayou St. John meant living in the countryside. Two rooms that particularly stood out were the dining room, with its warm brick floor and modest, but elegant, dining table, and the upstairs parlor with doors opened wide to a veranda overlooking the bayou.
|Ruins of Fort St. John|
Charles and I raced each other to the flood control structure dividing the bayou's waters from those of Lake Pontchartrain. Younger brother August giggled with delight while he bounced on my hip with each step forward. We topped off the visit with a few pushes on the tree swing, and then made our way back home to renew our search for a pumpkin patch.