If it’s Saturday morning, chances are good that I’m going to go for a long run and then visit a farmer’s market. This morning was no different–except that I slept through my alarm and my running partner ran a 10-minute loop solo while I scrambled to get dressed, down a cup of coffee, and figure out how to assemble my new hydration system (aka water belt). We both made it through 8 ridiculously sweaty miles. (How sweaty were they? I could have gone down a Slip ‘N Slide without using a hose first, that’s how sweaty.) In deference to societal norms, I took a cold shower to remove the salt and sweat, and then I headed to the market.
One of the perks of living in a somewhat-rural community is the abundance of roadside farm stands. I regularly stop at one Mennonite farm for their green beans (Mennonite green beans, as my kids call them) and other veggies. If we take a trip to DC, the kids know that we’re stopping at the Amish Farm Market on the way home. Everyone’s happy there: veggies, plants, and flowers for me, the fun of watching G attempt to pet the buggy horses, and the public library is just steps away. But my favorite Saturday market is in the parking lot of BAE–mostly because a nearby organic farm sells its gorgeous produce there. Sassafras Creek Farm grows delicious butter lettuce, creamy fingerling potatoes, bi-colored zephyr squash, and green zebra tomatoes. I dream of their produce in the winter!
This morning as I finished my purchases, I looked at my bags and thought of my girls. A huge bunch of organic basil to make another round of pesto for H. A peck–or is it a bushel?–of white peaches for my fruit lovers. A quart of Yukon gold potatoes for G, who has developed an appetite for smashed potatoes. And a loaf of artisan sourdough for S. (Sourdough has the least impact on blood glucose, so we’re always searching out loaves.)
How much do I love them then? More than they could ever love basil, peaches, potatoes, or sourdough. And lest you think that I shortchanged Ryan this morning, he got a bag of coffee.