I had no intention of buying onions at the farmers' market on Saturday, but the smelled lured me. Most people would describe the wild, pungent odor as unappealing, but the scent of onions reminds me of earth and my childhood. A time when my hair was bleached blonde because I didn't come inside until the street lights glowed. A time when I tugged wild onions from the dirt and that earthly scent covered me head to toe and I didn't mind what others thought of that. I'm reminded of a time when I measured the productivity of a day by the dirt ring that remained in the tub after a bath.
ps. . . I don't remember the name of the farmer I purchased the onions from, but I will find out and update that info.
The onions contributed to a wonderful stir-fry.