Farmers' Market

This morning we went to a farmers' market. I don't think the people there would necessarily call themselves farmers -- but that's really beside the point, I guess.

It was a collection of people who came to offer for sale what they had produced. Around the perimeter were mostly food stalls; in the center were mostely jewelry, ceramics, and art. At one end, you could find inflatible (what do you call them? they aren't rides or toys.........pens?) for children's play.

Many of the vegetables were organic. The beef and lamb was grassfed. The chickens were also specially raised. There were artisan breads and honey. There were tamales cooked in banana leaves. Various special teas were available, and there were specialty coffee drinks too. At each stall you could meet the person who had raised or blended or brewed it.

It was all much more personal than the grocery store. You could ask questions and get answers. And there seemed to be so much pride in what they were offering.

Often they didn't have a huge amount of their wares. When they sold out, they just stood around visiting with people.

And the shoppers were different too. Many had their dogs with them. They looked relaxed and often carried a cup or tea or coffee as they strolled along, enjoying the market.

Oh, and I forgot to mention that there was a singer with a guitar performing in an area between the fresh lavendar and the homemade dog biscuits. His genial sound floated throughout the market, adding a soundtrack to the morning.

It was an altogether delightful experience. My regular grocery store will never feel the same now. And I got great tomatoes.