Saturday, June 11, 2005

Farmer's Market.

Despite the wet spring-into-summer we've had going on here in SLC, today was the first day of the farmer's market. I have been excited about the first day of the farmer's market since, like, January. I woke up this a.m. at 6:30 because Bruiser wanted to go out to check on the progress of the sleepover in the shed (2 teenage boys, Zoolander, bag of Doritos, massive amounts of Coca-Cola). When I got back in bed, I thought, how much longer do I get to sleep? an hour? oooh, the Farmer's Market! before I drifted off for another hour.

So, we got there about 8:30. It was already crowded beyond belief. Some of my favorite vendors weren't there today, which was both disappointing and alarming. What will I do if the herb lady's not there this year? Like an idiot, I let all my scented geraniums die because I didn't bring them indoors. How will I replace them? Etc. Still, we got: a bag of salad greens, a bag of arugula, a bunch of scallions and a bunch of garlic scapes (a very cool vegetable, excellent in stir-fry), a bunch of parsley.

There's a whole socio-economic-demographic thing going on with these types of occasions, obviously Lots of Tevas, dogs, outdoorsy clothing, a few infants in fancy infant carriers, etc. We saw a lot of people we know there, which says something, I guess. The fancy produce store that dr-write calls "Libert Heist" was there, selling figs. However, the guy who's, if not homeless, only marginally housed, who plays a cello with no spindle at the bottom outside the movie theater where we always go--he was there,playing beautifully, as always. Also the aging Utah Phillips type playing folk music on the guitar. Plus the west-siders who grow herbs and make furniture and other wood items--definitely not in the demographic, but they were there. I love the farmer's market. Once a week, it's all about beautiful, fresh green food, the various people who grow it, and people like me, who buy it and eat it.

1 comment:

  1. Actually the cello guy is well-housed for a musician. At least he was when I had a long conversation with him once at a local bar a couple of years ago, and he didn't seem as crazy as he looks playing the cello. He takes his musician-by-the-seat of his pants (literally) quite seriously.

    Of course who am I to judge sanity? I gave a quarter to Brian David Mitchell, for hell's sake.



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