We’ve gotten to the point that a phone call or a knock on the door usually signals an intrusion; there’s rarely a friend or neighbor on the other end. People asking my opinion on politics and desalination, robots offering to reduce my credit card rate, Greenpeace canvassers, Mormon missionaries, door-to-door magazine salespersons . . . once a man in a refrigerated truck with an out-of-state license plate even knocked to ask if I’d like to buy some meat. I would love to see a Girl Scout or local kids raising money for their schools, but it’s not to be. I think all these type of sales must happen by their parents at the office.

So last week when the door knocked and the dog barked, I rolled my eyes, pasted on a smile, and got ready to say no. But I was in for a surprise – the dog wagged his tail at the man. And he was a neighbor in a sense, a representative from Farm Fresh To You looking for new home delivery customers for their seasonal fruits and vegetables. It’s something I’ve always thought about doing, but not seriously. Now a farm found me, and the timing is great; I’ve been making baby steps toward planning our meals in advance and streamlining my grocery shopping. It seemed to be a good experiment to get a box of produce and plan a week of meals around it. I went for it.

We received our first delivery yesterday morning, a box of fresh vegetables and fruits at my door before 8AM. Here’s a happy gorgeous way to start a morning:

The first week’s booty: a bunch each of broccoli, kale, carrots, and radishes, two large handfuls of green beans and two beets, four each kiwis and pears, three apples, a pomegranate and a big head of butter lettuce. Kid Two ate two of the pears after school, and we had hot buttered radishes with our dinner last night. Nothing hard here to cook with; pasta con broccoli and stir-fry will use of much of it, and I’ll try duplicating a white bean, ham, and kale soup we tasted at Big Sur’s Sierra Mar a few months ago.

I’ll let you know how it goes. In the meantime, I won’t be so dismissive of strangers bearing clipboards.