Sunday, September 20, 2009

Emmaus Farmers' Market and Saylorsburg Flea Market: IN ONE DAY!

Frying Peppers
Most Sundays are pretty darn wonderful for me, but this one was especially good. After a perfect breakfast of homemade sourdough flat breads with chevre and tomato confit, I decided to visit the Emmaus Farmers Market in search of a few dozen ears of corn for drying. I love dried corn in the winter. I'll describe the process later, when I can show you as well.
Purple String Beans
Peter decided to join me, so we grabbed our market bags and hopped into the convertible. It was one of those rare early autumn days: crisp and bright, no humidity; in other words, perfect. A home-brewed band was playing some lively tunes at the market. Kids and dogs danced along with the music while parents shopped and chatted. It was just so...wholesome. A few years ago (well, a few decades ago), a college friend called Emmaus "The Stepford Town" because it's so quaint and perfect. I concur. The Stepford Town sans creepy zombie wives.
Some Local Color
While we were there, my daughter called to invite me to join her in a trip to the Saylorsburg Flea Market. Bonus! My afternoon plans changed immediately, and as soon as Peter and I dropped off the box of corn and the few other items (including him), I headed north. She lives about 40 minutes away. She's so much fun to be with. I have to struggle sometimes to stop being a "mom" when I'm with her. She's a funny, worthwhile friend, a wonderful mother, and a good human being. I genuinely like her. Of course I love her, too, but that's a requirement if you're a parent. Liking is optional. We have conversations about everything. For instance, we decided it was a good thing that people don't procreate like corn; you'd really have to be careful on a windy day at a flea market, and in her words "Family reunions would be impossible. You'd have to wear a haz-mat suit." She also informed me that my interpretation of the biblical phrase "And on the seventh day, they rested" was not a directive to go braless on Sundays. We laughed until we cried.
The Flowers that Peter Bought Me
I'll be sad when Thanksgiving arrives and the farmers markets and flea markets close, though I may actually get some housework done then. In the mean time, I continue to enjoy them so much, especially with a good friend or two to join me. Who knew, 31 years ago, that my tiny little baby girl would slowly morph into such a cool woman? Or that my husband would eventually become my best friend? Life's good.

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