Tag Archives: farmers market

Eleven — Market

Today was the first day of the New Westminster Summer Farmers Market. We have been going to this market for years, I want to say four years, but I would have to really think about it. Anyway. It is in the parking lot behind City Hall, Thursdays between 3 and 7 pm and there are several traditions involved:

1. Kettle corn must be purchased
2. and immediately consumed.
3. Sometimes lemonade too.
4. Face painting?
5. Buy stuff, run into people we know, play in the trees, use the port-o-let, go home.

I used to try and put the kids off from eating the kettle corn first — oh hey, let’s choose some strawberries! And check out the fiddler! — all the while they’d be somewhere behind me, tearing the bag open, refusing to share it, yelling at each other, being annoying. This year I gave it up. Here is your giant bag of kettle corn, go sit under that tree, I’m going shopping.

Today they were so stunned by my about-face, they sat quietly and didn’t even ask about lemonade. So I rewarded them with chocolate cats. “Are these handmade?” asked Arlo. “Yes,” I replied. Soon he will be ready for Portlandia.

They didn’t ask about face paint either, which is kind of happy and kind of sad. Sad, because now they’re old and face paint is done. Well, technically, Eli has never asked about face paint, but Arlo always does. It’s his First Market Day Tradition and he forgot. Sunrise, sunset.

Happy: because I didn’t have to wait in line for face paint and because I could spend the money I would have spent on face paint on strawberries, radishes, and perogies.

Sadly, we were there too early to see anyone we knew. Then Arlo climbed a tree, so far up “I can see the top of the telephone pole!” and then he used the port-o-let and it was pronounced The Most Roomiest Port-o-let Ever. I told him we’d send a card to the RCFM and let them know.

It gave me a funny feeling in my stomach.

It gave me a funny feeling in my stomach.

And then we went home.