Sunday Morning

It is Sunday morning..... Mark is on a bike ride (training for his Charity Treks ride next August) and I have just started a second pot of coffee. It is a chilly 47 outside and the fog makes the trees all white and fuzzy around the edges. I have just come back from the Farmers' Market. Every Sunday from 8:30 to 12:30, local farmers, bakers, tamale makers and popcorn poppers bring their wares to Jackson St. in Japantown. It is a pleasant walk from our mouse house and Mark and I usually head down after breakfast and some NY Times crossword. But today, I went alone. Our neighborhood is very quiet with only the birds chattering away. I pass many neatly trimmed lawns. Small bushes pruned into tiny round balls. Grass precisely edged. As I near the market, the Filipino Community Center is bustling with activity. The curb outside is full of drums, amplifiers, people in elegant black suits. A man carrying a silver trumpet is followed by a small boy into the building. While most of the businesses on the main street are closed, the Japanese grocery is open. Customers come out laden with bags. The farmers' market is also busy. I smell popcorn and tamales and hear many languages. Because Mark and I come to the market most weeks, I am beginning to recognize the vendors. There is the young man selling Beckman' Old World Sourdough bread - quite tasty especially the asiago rosemary sourdough and the great pastries. Across from him are the gentlemen who sell olives, hummus, pita and other Mediterranean delights. We love the kick-in-the-pants green olives that have something in them that makes your eyes water. Further down are the ladies that sell mushrooms. Mark gets the Shitake ones and turns them into the most mouthwatering things like spring rolls. I get some to inspire him to cook one night this week. And then I visit the very attractive Hispanic man who sells the most interesting fruit. He has Hand-of-Buddha citron again. I tell him I made a bread with mine last week and it wasn't bad. His eyes light up and twinkle as he says, "Pretty strong?" Not too bad if you add enough sugar I reply. I buy a bag of navel oranges, an avocado and a persimmon. I sample some of the dried fruits he carries - pears, peaches, raisins as big as cherries, persimmons..... I get a container of mixed fruit (great in oatmeal). I ask about cherries. And he smiles his great smile and tells me they sold out. That's what I get for lingering so long at home. Across from him are the Asian ladies who sell huge piles of green stuff. I recognize the broccoli and cauliflower (as big as a basketball) and eggplant. But at the far end of her stall are tables of greens or mysterious origin. I watch as several small elderly Asian ladies minutely inspect each bunch before selecting one. I must get brave, buy one and test it out. But not today. This week the mother vendor (I assume she is the mother) is wearing a warm hat with furry ear muffs. Last time, she had a blanket tied around her head. Her two daughters help customers and play with each other during lulls. There are very few lulls. The final stop for me is the flower vendor. I find the most interesting flowers - Bells of Ireland, star gazer lillies, and more that I don't recognize. I have purchased two bunches of something with green leaves that have a reddish/orange tip and yellow green centers. The lady tells me what they are, but I'm not sure I hear correctly. Damn ears! She says they will last a month - I got that part. As I leave, I decide to get apples at another fruit stall. I pick out Pink Ladies and start chatting with the young man who is hopping from foot to foot. "Cold isn't it' he says. Yes and I don't have to stand out here for four hours. He replies that he arrived at 6am and couldn't set up until 8:30am. So he emptied the open-topped trailer and crawled into the middle to keep warm and wait. I try to be cheery and say that at least the days are getting longer and soon it will be getting warmer. He doesn't look convinced. My arms are full of flowers, oranges, fruit and veg. So I head for home through quiet streets and misty fog and birds shivering on telephone wires....... I think I'll have that second cup of coffee now.