{"id":3806,"date":"2016-04-09T11:56:27","date_gmt":"2016-04-09T17:56:27","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/augerhandle.net\/blogs\/jumpingfish\/?p=3806"},"modified":"2016-04-09T11:59:42","modified_gmt":"2016-04-09T17:59:42","slug":"farmers-market","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/augerhandle.net\/blogs\/jumpingfish\/2016\/04\/09\/farmers-market\/","title":{"rendered":"Farmer’s Market"},"content":{"rendered":"

1. First Arrival<\/h3>\n

I pulled into the parking lot of the Sunset Valley Farmer\u2019s Market<\/a>.<\/p>\n

It was 7:30 on Saturday morning. There was a bit of a chill in the air, and the grey sky was spitting a few raindrops, but I was determined to get eggs before they sold out. Except\u2026 there were only a few vehicles in the parking lot, and most of the vendor booths were empty.<\/p>\n

Oh, isn\u2019t this just par for the course, I thought to myself. Always at the wrong place. Or at the wrong time. But I could see Ben helping get some of the booths set up, and he looked up and noticed me, so I got out of the car shaking my head as I walked over. He was smiling.<\/p>\n

\u201cDang it, I\u2019m not going to miss the eggs!\u201d I said to him, laughing.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust and hour and a half early!\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\u201cl\u2019ll be back.”<\/p>\n

2. Second Arrival<\/h3>\n

So I went home and grabbed a book.<\/p>\n

I read about affine spaces and the theory of determinants, something I should have mastered and moved beyond decades ago but is now just somehow soothing and comforting for me to read. I found a warm spot and read for a while and then set the book aside and left for the Farmer\u2019s Market again.<\/p>\n

And still I got there early. \u2026because dang it, I was not going to miss the eggs.<\/p>\n

There were more vehicles in the lot. And there were more vendors, although some were still arriving and several were still setting up.<\/p>\n

And there was Ben, walking along the path between the booths. Smiling and chatting with the vendors as he went. Sometimes stopping and pounding in a steel stake to secure the awnings over their tables, because the rain was picking up, and the wind was beginning to blow. Booth by booth he checked to make sure that each leg of each awning was in no risk of blowing away. Booth by booth he chatted with the vendors who had tomatoes and cabbages and onions and strawberries and carrots and greens and art and soap and honey and tacos and coffee arrayed on their tables.<\/p>\n

I sat inside the car without him seeing me, watching him in his element.<\/p>\n

3. Eggs and More<\/h3>\n

It was still early, but I noticed a woman leaving with two young children behind her and a bag of produce over her shoulder. And then I saw another man walking up from his car with an empty bag over his. And I thought of the eggs and feared that I might yet flub it and arrive too late. So I quickly got out of the car.<\/p>\n

I got two dozen eggs that looked like Easter when they opened the cartons to show them to me. And I got four ripe tomatoes. And some carrots. I put my haul in a bag over my shoulder and began walking along the path, admiring the pastries and the soaps and the honey and the Pakora and the other stuff at the other booths.<\/p>\n

At the SFC<\/a> booth, I saw Ben, but he was busy, and I was on a (second) mission to secure a cup of coffee and a breakfast taco. So I continued along the path.<\/p>\n

\u201cYoo hoo!\u201d I heard behind me. I turned to see him walking over.<\/p>\n

\u201cBen! I\u2019m back!”<\/p>\n

I bought him some coffee, and some of his friends began introducing themselves to me. And Ben took me back along the path of vendor booths and introduced me to others, including Margaret who has duck eggs which we discussed for a while, me confessing that I had already bought two dozen chicken eggs. (\u201cNext time,\u201d I promised.)<\/p>\n

He found some pastries \u2014 me choosing a raspberry shortbread kind of thing, him gratefully purchasing a corner of a coffee cake that the baker woman had saved just for him.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll let you go,\u201d I said. \u201cYou have a job to do.”<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll call you, although it might be not so good for kayaking,\u201d he said as he looked uncertainly over his shoulder at the approaching black clouds.<\/p>\n

4. What\u2019s The Point?<\/h3>\n

Why do I tell you this? It\u2019s not much of a story. There\u2019s no real point. Except there is.<\/p>\n

Ben has cousins who are chemists and successful game designers and firemen. He has cousins who are creating careers and identities for themselves in the city and in the wilderness. He has cousins studying chemical and bio-engineering. And he has a father who rolls his eyes a lot.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Ben has a father who struggles to see the path his son has chosen (is choosing) for what it is rather than for what it isn\u2019t. His father measures (often against his better senses) his son\u2019s achievements relative to standards that are not relevant. And although there is almost nothing in this world of which his father is more proud, Ben has a father who does not acknowledge all of this nearly enough.<\/p>\n

There walking along a crushed granite path, there amid the farmers and other vendors, there with a smile on his face and a handsledge in his hand, there was Ben\u2019s father\u2019s son \u2014 the remarkable product of the father\u2019s labors. And his father did see it, as he often does it but rarely speaks to.<\/p>\n

And so here with no rolling of the eyes and no misplaced judgements and no misgivings, here Ben’s father speaks his pride<\/em> to the world out loud for all to hear.\u00a0<\/p>\n

And that<\/em> was the point.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

1. First Arrival I pulled into the parking lot of the Sunset Valley Farmer\u2019s Market. It was 7:30 on Saturday morning. There was a bit of a chill in the air, and the grey sky was spitting a few raindrops, but I was determined to get eggs before they sold out. Except\u2026 there were only […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/augerhandle.net\/blogs\/jumpingfish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3806"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/augerhandle.net\/blogs\/jumpingfish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/augerhandle.net\/blogs\/jumpingfish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/augerhandle.net\/blogs\/jumpingfish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/augerhandle.net\/blogs\/jumpingfish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3806"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/augerhandle.net\/blogs\/jumpingfish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3806\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3811,"href":"https:\/\/augerhandle.net\/blogs\/jumpingfish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3806\/revisions\/3811"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/augerhandle.net\/blogs\/jumpingfish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3806"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/augerhandle.net\/blogs\/jumpingfish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3806"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/augerhandle.net\/blogs\/jumpingfish\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3806"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}