By Kristin Nador/@KristinNador
I’m a master at the two-fer. I love to multitask, to combine offers, to kill two birds with one stone. Sometimes this is to my detriment, particularly when cooking is involved. But sometimes it works out well, as with this week’s Write Anywhere venue. I had another purpose, but writing wiggled its way into the itinerary, with some interesting results.
Write Anywhere #49: Farmers’ Market
I arrived at my local Farmer’s Market, a train station in its former life, mid-morning on Saturday and the heat gave a light sweaty sheen to all in attendance. My goal today: to purchase all the groceries I needed and save money. I wanted to prove wrong the idea that healthy and local is expensive. With the exception of two items I did it.
But the Farmer’s Market is more than a frugal shopping destination. It’s a people watching paradise. The vendors sell their wares: everything from fleece rugs to goat milk to birdhouses to Greek pastichio. The customers run the spectrum: reserved retired couples in matching t-shirts, groups of mothers in maxi-dresses pushing babies, old men in birkenstocks and bandanas, cyclists loading their backpacks with the market’s bounty, all seeing and being seen. Dogs of every type wag a greeting to one another as they walk their owners past the tables loaded with splashes of tasty color.
Tomatoes, squash, herbs, garlic bulbs, potatoes, green beans. All the makings of something good.
The farmers’ market is also a great place for dialogue. Listen to it. Participate in it. People love to talk about their passions.
The farm couple crafting goat cheeses and butters shared excitedly their best-selling herb flavors. A farmer in overalls unloading his Ford F150 demonstrated the proper way to thump a melon. A sweet lady told me how she makes her beloved fleece throw rugs and was proud when I asked permission for a photo.
I took my bag of groceries with an order of pastichio and found one of the few shady spots under a tree. A few bites, a few words in my notebook, a few more bites. The breeze carried the music of the market: voices, barking, the cicadas buzz, the rhythm of tires crossing the railroad tracks.
As I relaxed on the bench, I noticed a booth over on the far side of plaza: the local news radio station was running a remote broadcast. None of the market patrons took notice and the three radio station employees looked lonesome in their booth. Then a thought only a writer would have popped into my head: “I should go over there. They might have free pens.” How to explain the workings of the mid-century brain…
I chatted with two nice ladies who identified themselves as producers while a local garden expert took to the airwaves. The ladies asked why I came to the market and I shared my shop local experiment. Their eyes got big as they said almost in unison: ‘Would you say that on the air?”
Before I knew it I had a microphone in my hand and I was on the radio! I wished Keeper Hubby could have heard me, because weird things like this seem to happen to me and I’m not sure if he doesn’t think my imagination is working overtime. But you never can tell what will happen when you get out of your regular routine and Write Anywhere. ;)
Where did you write this week?
Question: Do you have a farmers’ market or roadside produce booth in your area? What’s your favorite summer fruit or veggie?
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