The Farmer's Market

On Saturdays, one of the area churches hosts a farmer's market from 10 to 1. Last week I intended to stop, but thought it was open until 2 and managed to miss it. This week though, I stopped in time. I pulled into the blacktopped drive behind a line of cars and we slowly crept down past the tents and shoppers into the crowded parking lot. I wondered if that same lot would be as full on Sunday morning, or if the people wandering about would be as excited.

I wanted to see what everyone was offering before I made any decisions about what to get, so I wandered the whole length of the lawn, eyeing the tables with interest. Many offered the same fare - huge ripe red tomatoes, brilliant yellow squash, deep green zucchini, dark red beets, crisp orange carrots, soft fuzzy peaches, marbled cherries, long firm cucumbers, pint baskets of blueberries - all locally grown.

Some produce looked a bit wilty or ragged, others had a slightly better price, or somewhat fuller containers. Some stands were busy with four or five people all helping someone, others had only one person who was busy putting out more delectables while taking money. The place was abuzz with activity, not unlike a beehive.

I began at the far end, asking what the types of peaches were, tasting samples, splurging on some apricots, adding one bag after another to my carrying arm, spreading my cash fairly equally from one end to the other, getting cucumbers here, a green pepper there, wishing I could find the same tasty tomatoes my grandmother used to grow.

I wondered if I could handle all this fresh stuff. The veggies will be OK since I can cook them and as long as I am careful not to eat too much in one day, I shouldn't get sick. The fruit is so tempting, I worry whether I will overdo and end up regretting it. But I rationalize that my system grows stronger with each passing month, and that these items are full of healthy nutrients that should help strengthen my immune system and build my body.

I spend every dollar in my wallet, stopping short of getting a bouquet of fresh flowers (the sunflowers looked so cheery), and managing to avoid the Amish table loaded with baked goods. I proudly port my trophies home, laying them out on the counter, calling the boys to come see, come taste.

I promise myself to go slow, not overdo. And keep the exercise going. Sunday we are planning to take a walk in Black Creek park. As you can see, there are many trails to explore, and many other parks in this area. We are committed to experiencing as many of them as we can before the weather prevents us from going or schedules get too insane.

I watch the boys din into the array of good things, and wonder if there will be anything left from the farmer's market to take with us on our Sunday venture!