What I like best about the market

The smiles: One of my fellow vendors is a spunky girl with brown,wavy hair. She usually wears converse sneakers and a comfy t-shirt with a unique skirt. Her lively personality matches the beautiful and unusual blown glass she creates.

   Last week she wore soothing shades of blue. Her funky skirt matched her usual spunk and she seemed to radiate even more cheeriness than normal. I love this girl's abruptness and randomness. We were caught up in a conversation and mid-sentence she said, "Hey, you want some used shirts of mine?" holding up a fistful of clothes.

   When we were talking she noticed I was barefoot and said, "You're my type of girl. I was so hot, but after taking off my shoes I felt like I got a little taste of heaven." 

   A little later she noticed some of the cookies I had for sale and said, "Ooohhh, so much delicious food! I have to stay away from that type of food now though. I took a "little test" yesterday that told me I needed to avoid the junk food. We all have to make sacrifices, even for good things."

   When she was saying this I was thinking,"What is she referring to? A test? Is she pregnant?"

   I said, " Are you expecting?"

   "Yes," she said with a blush.

   "Oh my goodness!" and we both squealed with delight. 

    "You know, you are the first person I've told today." she said with a giggle. 

      The smile on that girl's face was precious. She is someone I hardly know, but she felt comfortable enough to tell me her exciting news. That was special and her smile was even more memorable.

       I love the smiles I see when I go to the market. Yes, it's true that not everyone is in a good mood on market day. Even I have arrived with a frown on my face because I stubbed my toe or burned a batch of bread. You never know. My point is, the smiles that are given and received at the farmer's market are something truly special.

My blown-glass jar

     The Bartering:  Last week was a slow day. When I say slow, I mean slooooooww. It was fun, but not very profitable. As the market day came to an end, I had a fair amount of left over bread. After gathering up enough courage, I asked a couple of the vendors if they would barter something for a loaf of bread. A woman who sold a variety of plants, bartered a succulent plant for a loaf of Onion Dill Bread. The girl with the blown glass bartered a jar for a variety of goods. Now, how cool is that?? I felt like a little girl who had just been given the best gift ever, as I walked away with my treasures.

My succulent

 The music: Last week, three teenagers came to the market with one cello and two violins. Their skill and style was exceptional. They confidently piled out of their car and "set up shop" on the village gazebo. When they started playing, they stopped everyone in their tracks. I was speechless and listened in awe. Music is something that I love and something I've worked hard at my whole life. When I listened to these three play their music, it filled my heart with joy. The girl playing the cello had her head bent while listening intensely to each note she played. One of the boys playing the violin, played each interval,sharp,and flat with passion and his hands danced with agility over his violin strings.

  These are just a few things that I love about the farmer's market. Come to the market to experience them for yourself. 

Market Day #1

   I awoke in all my glory - my hair tied in knots, and looking like something from a horror movie. Such a lovely sight. I sprang out of bed at 6:00 am sharp, threw on my mud boots, and went out to feed the chickens, shutting the door quietly behind me.

    The chickens cackled their greetings and I gave them their daily feed. After checking for eggs, I made my way back to the house to gather what was needed for the market. I had packed everything in the car the night before, so all I needed to do was pick a few flower bouquets from the garden, grab my notebook, and a lunch. My Mom, with her hair put up in a way that made her feminine beauty shine, helped gather anything that I might need and carried the flowers she had picked and arranged to the car. In my mad scramble to be on time, it turned out I was excessive in my estimations. We sheepishly pulled into the central green at 7:30 am.

     "Anna," my mom said with a hint of irritation,"We're really early! You think you were a little too anxious?"

    " Yeah, I realize that."I said with an apologetic grin.

    

     This seems to be a poor quality trait of mine. I am always late or too early for appointments or I miss my curfew from time to time. I've put my mother in a frenzy because I've been late in arriving home, or there have been times where my socially-starved self has been so excited to see a friend that I end up arriving at least thirty minutes before the time we had scheduled. This is something that I need to work on and desperately need to master since I receive my Driver's License in a matter of days.

    

     We ended up pulling our tent and table from the car and placing it near a large Oak tree. There were only two other vendors present, but they had a much more complex setup than ours and already knew what they were doing. We had to wait for the market manager to show up before we could set up.

    

      To pass the time, I sat on the village gazebo and wrote in my notebook. The sun warmed my chilled skin and the wind blew through my hair. By this time, the vendors began to slowly trickle in while a familiar face smiled at me. With a hand wave they shouted, "Welcome back, guys!"

    

       A jogger whooshed through the park and practically yelled with joy in his eyes, "Good morning, lady! It's such a nice morning to sit in the sun!"

    

      These two lovely faces made my morning and I continued to scribble notes in my notebook. The traffic began to get heavier and cars flew by with their drivers looking energized by the coffee in their hands. I loved watching the cars and all the faces that were inside, but couldn't help but think that they were probably wondering what the creeper girl with the lop-sided sunglasses on top of her head and wild hair was staring at them for. Ah well, they didn't seem to mind.

     

      Eventually the market manager did arrive and she assigned us our spot. Mom and I carefully arranged the April Cornell table cloth onto our rickety table and put our two heads together and accomplished the task of putting up our tent canopy. I arranged my bread on top of the table and put the cookies in a linen-lined basket. Mom assembled her soup on a side table with a beautiful handwritten sign reading, "Creamy Mushroom Bisque". Flowers were arranged beside the table in a staggered line and a sign was propped against the tent pole.

       

      The customers started to come. They donned their happy smiles and carried their reusable, earth-friendly, green bags that would hold their purchases. They skipped from vendor to vendor looking at the fresh garden produce of the farmers, touching the hand spun alpaca yarns, and purchasing items that sparked their fancy.  A woman with short white hair and spunky glasses stops and gazes at our flowers.  "What beautiful flowers!" she says. "I want to buy some for my art teacher!"

   

     She then went on to talk about how she loves Vermont and the art class she is taking. She is from out-of-state and has a personality that is warm and curious. She excitedly picks out her flowers and says, "Thank you!" and walks off to the next vendor.

    

     Another person approaches our booth. This time it's a man that stands at least 6' 3" and he pats his belly.  "Oooohh, so much good food! Get me out of here!"  He walks briskly away, avoiding the food that may tempt him to break his diet.

    

      Another person comes to our booth. This time it's a familiar face and faithful customer/friend. His face lights up as he says with enthusiasm, "I'm so glad you guys are here!”.

    

      He asks us how business is going and buys bread, a cookie, and a cup of soup. Mom and him strike up a conversation while I calculate his purchases and give him his change. He smiles a goodbye and goes off to his work.

     

      A couple stops by our booth and surveys what we have that might make a good lunch for them. One of them speaks only French and the husband translates my English to French for his wife. He explains how they are from a biking club of ninety people and where they are in their route. In both of our struggles to understand each other we share a word common to both of us: "chanterelle.” Our soup for that day was made with Chanterelle mushrooms and the French word strikes a familiarity with the bikers. They thank us and explain that they will come back at noon for their lunch.

     

       The first market day for "Two Loaves and a Hyacinth" was good. We practically sold out of our goods and I had so much fun talking to the farmers, customers, and craftsmen. We talked about how to grow good tomatoes, what it takes to start a dairy farm, and everything in between. "Two Loaves and a Hyacinth" is off to a good start, my friends!

To market!

 
    We all have to start somewhere, right? Well, we're starting all right! Meet us at the Brandon Farmer's Market this summer where we'll satisfy your taste buds with flavorful homemade bread and soup and we'll delight your eyes with flowers. We're small and inexperienced, but we're excited to start on our adventure! Hope to see you around!

2013 journal entry: our stand

   Rain poured, the wind howled, and I sat there shivering. "Why do I have to be here?" I thought.
   My first sentence is a bit exaggerated. Last week at the farmer's market it was raining and, yes, I was cold, but it wasn't a torrential downpour.
    I have experienced many different situations while working hard to make a profit on my home-made bread. There have been drizzly days where the customers seem to be smarter than the vendors by staying home. With determintaion, we set up our booth, vowing to conquer the moody weather and stay faithful to our little businesses. Unfortunately, our ambition fades half way through the day and the wind makes fun of us by pushing over delicate flowers and playing tricks on our tent. Some vendors give up while others stick it out. When the market closes, we rush home anticipating the warmth of a quilted blanket and devouring the leftover goodies that never sold.   There has also been warm, sunny days where the customers are like bees on a flower. Crowds of people come at once; a man in a blue, silk tie carries on a converstaion about the danger of GMOs and asking my opinion on Obama healthcare. Meanwhile, I struggle to calculate four people's purchases at once and accurately give them their change. My mind struggles to balance it all, but I succeed with only making a mistake on one person's purchase and nodding my head with everything the businessman feels inclined to say. At the end of the busy day, I go home exhausted, but grateful I made a good profit.
      As you see, I have experienced a lot by bringing Two Loaves and a Hyacinth* to the farmer's market each week. I have met many different vendors and delighted in conversing with them.
     I love having a market stand! It's what I love to do. I wasn't made to be some prestigious person with a big career. I was made to live a simple, creative life. I was made to be a caregiver, bake people good food, create beauty, enjoy the simple joys of life. Our business is very small and we're far from being qualified to call ourselves a real business, but we're just beginning. We'll see what happens.