Liveblogging from the Farmers’ Market

Trying something new this morning—a lot will depend on the tolerance of my pregnant wife and energetic canine. The third Farmers’ Market of our neighborhood is about to begin, and it will see the nicest weather one could ask for in June in D.C.

Rid the triangle park of poop again after my run—so bring a blanket or chairs and camp out.

9:45 – Fruit is set up (“yellow” peaches; both varieties of cherries are excellent; no strawberries today; blackberries, raspberries, blueberries, gooseberries). More vegetables today. “Happy” lamb and pork.

Note the difference between these homegrown offerings and the Eastern Market produce. (You can actually watch the EM vendors dump berries from their supermarket plastic tubs into the green cardboard cartons.)

10:20 – Crowd is a little slim so far. Maybe the weather is enticing folks to do other activities outside. Just as I finish typing the last sentence, it starts to pick up. Dogs and kids.

11:05 – Band (full one is back this week) just started. Park, and its full shade, is still empty—were moving over there. Solicited for some money from the same man (this time with green puke on his face) for the second time today. Parents next to us didn’t look too comfortable when he visited them as well—hopefully this won’t discourage them from coming back to the park with their children.

11:55 – Band is on break. I need lunch food, but Big Bear said they’re too busy today to make sandwiches.

12:20 – Band is back. Pretty empty at the park, though.

12:50 – About to pass out from hunger—neighborhood parents, here’s an idea: have your kids set up a grilled cheese stand—2 bucks each.

1:15 – You know what is missing? A flea market with the same pseudo-crafty items, week after week, year after year. If I ever need a window sash with mirrors for panes, or a piece of furniture stenciled with roosters, I can always drive over to Eastern Market.

1:35 – Decided to pack up and head home for grilled cheeses (or “cheese toasties” as my Yankee wife calls them). Same man asks for money for the third time today.

And, with that, we’ll call it a day. Plan ahead, folks, and hang around under the shade for an hour or so.


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