Pizza Crust

A month ago I bought a pizza crust at the Winkler Farmer's Market. I thought I'd give it a try and if I liked it I could come back next week and get another. Well I liked it, and so did Derek, and I just hate making dough from scratch (why? It's not that hard and it's not that messy. It might have some mental connection for me with the first time I tried to make warenika on my own - a dough disaster. I'll attach that story if you're interested in hearing my warenika sob story).

So the very next week after a long day of shopping in Winnipeg and a screaming baby all the way home, I psyched myself up for one last stop before going home. I told myself "a carefree, flexible Mom would stop and wouldn't let the crying baby get in the way of her plans. Besides, I don't have any other ideas for dinner." I even thought I might get two as it got later and I got hungrier on the drive.

With the baby screaming and a stressful thumping behind my ears I jogged from the car to the baked good table, eager to get the crust and go home. A lady ran up just as I did and I reluctantly smiled and said, "Go ahead". She said "I realized I should really get two crusts if I want to make a meal out of it" and picked up what looked to be the last pizza crust on the table. I scanned the table, craned my neck to look in the back of her van, and just barely restrained myself from looking underneath the table for any spare, lost pizza crust. Nothing.

I gulped and asked in a small voice, "Do you happen to have any more pizza crusts?" For a minute my hopes rose as she turned and dug through a box behind her. She turned back to me, looked at me blankly and asked, "What?"

My heart sunk and I asked again in a dejected voice, my shoulders sagging. I knew the answer before she spoke. There were no more pizza crusts. That was the last one.

I got back in the car, the baby screaming so hard there was spit running down his chin, and I cried with him. I cried the whole way home. What was I going to make for dinner? Why was the baby still crying? I am so tired! "Go ahead" like it was no big deal when that was MY pizza crust. Can you believe it?! The last one!

The following Tuesday was my father-in-law's birthday and we were going to have birthday dinner together, but I had pizza crust on my mind. I was determined to get to the Farmer's Market early to ensure I got a pizza crust. But at 3:15 Luke fell asleep...and so did I. I woke up at 4:45 thinking only of birthday dinner. At 6:30 when the whole family was sitting around the dinner table I did some math out loud and did it VERY wrong. My sister-in-law Jaime (a nurse) comforted me in my stupidity saying it is a proven fact that women lose brain cells when they have a baby. At that moment I remembered what I'd forgotten - what all those lost brain cells were supposed to have kept me from forgetting. The pizza crust.

The very next day at the coffee shop I asked if their baker -Linda- made pizza crusts. "No" they said "but our previous baker, Tina, did." "Tina?" I asked, "Is she the one who sells at the farmer's market?" "Yes, that's her" he said, "She goes to all the farmer's markets." That very night I made plans with Charity to go to the farmer's market in Morden the following evening. I am going to track down this crust if it is the last thing I do! I fell asleep dreaming of pizza.

Thursday morning, the day of Morden's farmer's market, I got a call from Charity. "The Farmer's Market isn't happening until tomorrow because of the Corn and Apple Festival". Once again, my dinner plans were foiled.

Friday finally came and the sky held dark and threatening clouds. Would I once again be deterred from being united with a pizza crust? I called Charity. "What does the weather look like over there?" "Oh it looks like it might rain, do you still want to go?" Are you kidding?! "I'll be over in a few minutes."

We walked six blocks to the farmer's market and Luke wasn't too happy to be in the stroller. It's too much like the car, I guess. We got there just as the last booth was being set up. The booths were arranged around an intersection, leaving a big open square in the middle. I walked out to the middle of the square and turned slowly around and around. My jaw dropped. I could not believe it! Not a single pizza crust. I threw my head back in frustration with a small sob and just then felt a raindrop on my face like a tear. We walked back the six blocks in the rain, Luke crying the whole way. I decided the weather and Luke were very intuitive.

I had nearly given up on the pizza crust after that stormy day. But yesterday I got a three hour nap in the morning. When I woke up I felt refreshed and alert and I remembered the abandoned pizza crusts. "One last time" I told myself, "I'll try one last time." The farmer's market starts at 4. I was there at 3:45. I was on my game, shoes tied, change in my pocket, baby in the pack, 15 minutes to spare.

I saw it from across the market. The table of baked goods was there in the corner, a ray of sun falling across the golden pizza crust. My feet broke out into a run, my heart floated along behind me like a kite, I would finally have my pizza crust! I reached the table and reverently picked up not one, but two pizza crusts. The lady beside me browsing the pies became curious as my eyes brightened, my hands clutching the bag, and she asked, "Is that pizza crust?"

"Yes" I sighed. "This is pizza crust."