Tomorrow is my final chance to make it to the farmers market in Grand Forks, N.D., this season. Will I make it?
I don’t know. Plans for 9 a.m. on Saturdays usually work out better in theory than in practice.
I did get the chance to check out the farmers market in Madison, Wis., this summer and I loved it. It was huge. It circles the Capitol building and its patrons walk around it in a throng of hungry veggie-lovers, moving together and uttering apologies when we inevitably smash into someone else looking at the same display of deliciousness.
I bought some beautiful flowers that didn’t survive the hot, 10-hour drive back to Grand Forks (stupid me) and the most delicious, fat snow peas I’ve ever tasted (they didn’t survive the 20-minute drive back to the hotel — I gobbled them up).
I love local foods and goods. I like the idea of my money cycling through my local economy, but more important, I like to support local farmers, artists, chefs, etc.
So I will do my best to get to the Town Square tomorrow morning. If I’m not there by 9:30, just start without me.