July’s Bounty
I love July.
I walk to my local farmer’s market almost every Saturday morning. Starting about the 4th of July, however, the vegetable stands are literally spilling over with an amazing variety of green and yellow and purple and red delicacies, many of which have been harvested that very morning. Walking to the farmer’s market becomes a real adventure. Between the arrival of my CSA box every Tuesday afternoon and the contents of the two heavy bags I carry home from the market, cooking becomes a joy, and my meals become healthy and tasty with very little effort.
For the last month, our market has been in a temporary location about 3/4 mile further from my house while our usual home – a parking lot – is being resurfaced. So I’m getting a bit more exercise, also, without having to think about it.
The Farmers’ Market Experience
Shopping at the farmer’s market consists of far more than going on a simple shopping trip. In inclement and chilly weather, loyal market customers arrive, select vegetables from the limited choices, and leave in half an hour, perhaps with a cup of coffee or a burrito to go. But this time of year it is different: Going to the market can take the whole morning, especially if you take friends or family with you.
With the arrival of warmer temperatures, tables, chairs and umbrellas appear; a local musical group sets up about 10:00 am and begins to play. Newcomers come through the entrance, scanning the booths to see what is on offer; families bring their vacationing kids or parents — and the babies and children of the regular families emerge from their slings and strollers and run freely around the market. I sit and sip a freshly made coffee, or enjoy a tasty breakfast from one of the food booths. I tap my foot to the music and watch children munch their way around the market, tasting the sample peaches, popping pea pods, asking for strawberries and blueberries, twirling around as the music catches them up. I soak it all in and think how lucky I am to be in this place.
This past Saturday I walked to the market with my daughter and my 5 1/2 year old granddaughter. Bean is an old hand at farmer’s markets, and quickly found a very large and very beautiful bouquet of flowers that she desired. It took her about 30 seconds to convince me to purchase the flowers (“I’ll help you arrange them, Grandma, and I’ll take some of them back to Mommy’s house, ok?”) Of course ok. And so we were off to the flower stand.
On the way we passed a farmer selling vegetable starts. Bean’s tomatoes, corn, sunflowers, morning glories, carrots, and cilantro are thriving, so I asked what varieties we can plant now, midway through our growing season. Into my bag went two six packs of runner beans and two pumpkins. Bean was so excited she walked all the way back to the house without asking how much further it was, and we had the pumpkins planted by lunch time.
I love to work in the garden with children, and especially with this precious little person I love so much. We started with packets of radishes and carrots when she was two. The seeds generally went into the soil in little clumps rather than tidy rows, but by the time she was four she understood about putting the seeds in her hand and sprinkling them in a line. We grew squash and beans early on, because those seeds were larger and easier to handle.
Last year and this she planted corn and sunflowers from seeds in little peat pots, then planted them out into raised boxes, gently smoothing the soil around the tender stalks without breaking them. She’s become quite a proficient gardener, checking on her plants every time she visits, pulling tiny weeds and watering the vegetables with the little plastic pink watering can with the princess on it that we’ve had forever.
The Legacy of the Garden
Yesterday we planted the beans. Or should I say, she planted them. Making holes between the morning glories, she gently lifted each bean plant from its plastic pot and pressed it into place, adding more planting mix from the tiny wheelbarrow that was once her uncle John’s. She has no sense of the connection, of course, but Grandma does. My son John is an amazing cook (his sisters call him a foodie, which I suppose is a taunt, but I think it’s cute), a wonderful gardener, and a regular farmer’s market customer. Imagine my delight when I discovered all this, some years after he had finished college and moved into what he likes to call “grownup housing” – a house with room for a vegetable garden.
Of course, he grew up with gardens, as did his sister, and as I did, and also my mother before us. This is a legacy we bring to the next generation, one that respects the earth, that sees a relationship between digging in the soil, eating healthy food, and supporting local agriculture. So yes, I walk to the farmer’s market every Saturday morning, knowing that John is doing the same thing, and feeling connected, even though he lives 400 miles away.
And someday, I believe, when she is grown, my granddaughter will be walking to a farmer’s market, or planting seeds, or harvesting or cooking fresh vegetables, and she’ll remember the times we spent at the farmer’s market and in the garden together. I can only hope so.
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