Little girl plays in the rain-soaked square of the Farmer's Market

Little girl plays in the rain-soaked square of the Farmer's Market

Today I ended up in the opposite direction of where I thought I was going.  This is nothing new.  Does this happen to you sometimes?  You think you have a plan.  You think you are going to Place A.  When, suddenly, a different idea hatches and suddenly you find yourself in Place B.

I thought I was going to the Farmer’s Market in downtown L’Anse.  There were rumors of delicious succulent real tomatoes.  You know, the kind of tomatoes that we only get in August in the Upper Peninsula.  Juicy red vine-ripened sweet tomatoes you yearn for eleven months of the year and instead have to settle for hydroponic or fake tomato look-alikes. (Our garden is full of little green tomatoes, but we must wait for them to ripen.  If the weather ever cooperates.)

Instead, I drove all the way to Marquette.  Don’t ask why.  It just happened.  Packed up this sweet little new laptop and took her travelin’.  We ate (I mean I ate) a spud arame plate at Sweet Water Cafe for breakfast.  Oh, yum.  The server pointed me in the direction of Marquette’s Farmer’s Market, about two or three blocks away.

And was it grand!  Oh what a delightful outdoor experience!  Real locally grown greens, carrots, brocoli, onions.  The Earth is producing big time.  Thirty dollars disappeared in an instant, replaced with bags and bags of goodies. 

Lovely carrots fresh from the earth

Lovely carrots fresh from the earth

Such a good feeling prevailed on the square.  Maybe a dozen or more tents stood here and there, filled with produce and eggs and fresh baked bread and flowers and crafts and at least sixteen other things.  People wandered and mingled everywhere.  Everyone had a smile on their face.  I mean everyone.  No one looked grumpy or frowning or perturbed. 

Folks selling herbs--and smiling

Folks selling herbs--and smiling

Do you see the tree-statues behind the couple in the above photo?  The trees sit in the middle of a fountain.  Actually, the trees are the fountain.  After taking pictures (and Denise would be proud of me because I’ve now gained enough confidence to politely ask would-be subjects for their photograph) I found a bench and just sat.  Watched.  Tried to leave at least twice, but kept returning to the bench to bask in the carnival-like atmosphere of the Farmer’s Market.

Loaves of crusty delicious bread

Loaves of crusty delicious bread

A slight problem eventually ensued with the Farmer’s Market visit.  May we skip ahead?  I returned home with a basket of tomatoes for my tomato-loving spouse.  He had been dreaming of tomatoes all day.  He had plans for a tomato sandwich, tomatoes on eggs tomorrow and tomatoes stuffed with tuna fish.  He smiled with delight as I unloaded the bag with his precious loot…and then his smile turned to a frown as he peered closer.  Oh no.  Oh no!  It appeared I had bought rock-hard hydroponic tomatoes.  How could this have happened?  Shouldn’t there be a law against them selling these?  How could I have been duped?  At the delightful little Farmer’s Market?  Alas…well, we shall wait at least four or five days and see if they ripen into something more edible…

However, everything else tastes absolutely wonderful.  The cherries are so sweet, melt-in-your-mouth sweet.  And the corn looks fantastic.  And the brocoli.  And everything else.  (Everything except the only thing I started out to find today…)

Homemade dolls peek out of their basket seeing if anyone will buy them.

Homemade dolls peek out of their basket seeing if anyone will buy them.

The only regret I have (besides picking out the wrong tomatoes, obviously) is that I forgot to buy peaches.  Peaches are tied with tomatoes for the best taste in August.  Will eat the cherries verrrry slowly and appreciate them this week.  Maybe next weekend there will be peaches and tomatoes at the Farmer’s Market in L’Anse.  We’ll see if I end up there. 

Peaches for next time

Peaches for next time

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