Summer goodbye
You can no longer stay
Autumn is on its way
Summer goodbye
Summer goodbye
That lyric is from a melancholy song the kids at preschool sing this time of year. It’s like a lullaby that sings you into the quiet, dark days of winter.
This past Wednesday was the last market day at the Interstate Farmers Market, the one closest to our house. Like every Wednesday before (at least the ones when we made it) we met up with old friends, new friends and “market friends." The kids climbed on the park's new play equipment while the moms and dads obediently pushed swings “HIGHER!” and caught squirmy, squealing toddlers at the end of slides.
My girls always gravitated toward the samples, especially the berries and peaches. And when I was brave (stupid) enough to let Iris out of the stroller or backpack Clara dutifully guided her grabby hands away from the Roma tomatoes. Iris, however, did not appreciate this.
Now that it’s over for the season, I think more than the food I'll miss the farmers. I'm still a little shy around them--I feel like sort of a groupie. But I learned so much in even the shortest conversations. And farmers are always excited to tell you about their crops and what they love about them. After selling, that's the reason they're at the market.
See those squashes? I refuse to buy squashes
this early. There's plenty of time for squash.
Five minutes before this picture was taken she'd been stung, twice, by a homocidal yellow jacket, right on her eyelid!. She was fine, obviously. A honey stick seemed to take the sting away.
I stuck to my budget on this market day, but it meant being very frugal and not getting a lot of fruit. Saturday I got a little panicky and had to get some nectarines at the grocery store. (Next I'll tally up the costs, and do my official retrospective of the Eat Local Challenge.)
No one can deny those yellow-gold leaves.
Autumn is here. But the season isn’t totally over, of course. The Hollywood Market goes for a few more months and the Portland Market in the Park Blocks goes ‘till December. I can still get my farmer fix.
Clara and me in the parking lot next to the Interstate Farmers Market, overlooking the Willamette River and the city of Portland.
Edited for formatting.
3 comments:
Youch, poor girl. My son got a bee or wasp down the back of his shirt last fall, with agonizing results until the ibuprofen kicked in.
Our tiny little farmers market is open through October, and about once a month in the winter they hold an indoor market, which is a nice idea.
We're lucky to have a market all year long. Not much produce but breads and eggs and crafts. All inside a little boathouse with a roaring fire. It's very nice.
Your girls are so lovely! Great pictures.
Hey, Penny! Thanks for the comment. And everyone else--go read her blog! Really great content.
Ah, letterb. So lovely to see you again. Your market sounds like something they're proposing here, but they'll call it a public market. It's very controversial, if only because people fear it will compete with our farmers markets. We shall see.
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