Friday, June 10, 2016

The Farmers Market


When I was in later elementary school my dad took up a new hobby - beekeeping. He was already skilled in the art of woodworking and woodcarving, those hobbies helped to pass the winter months, but at heart my dad is an outside man. Beekeeping gave him that outdoor hobby to occupy him spring, summer and fall. My parents live on twenty-three acres of country delight, so there was plenty of room for a handful of bee hives.


It took a couple of years to get honey output up so that it supplied more than just our family of four. By the time production was up to full speed, I was in middle school and more than old enough to help. I spent many late summer afternoons in the basement with my dad; we would take turns hand cranking the honey extractor. While I was turning I would watch the honey spin out of the hive frames hitting the cylindrical metal sides of the extractor and slide down towards the exit spout, where it waited to be released into new, white five gallon pails. We would bottle and distribute from the bounty in the five gallon pails.


Once we had the supply, we had to figure out a way to create demand. This was the late 1970's and early 1980's, the eat healthy and organic lifestyle had not emerged yet. But there was a new venture in our downtown on Saturday mornings - The Farmers Market - a place for small local farms to sell the excess from their crops without having to man a roadside stand ten hours a day.


I remember getting up at five a.m. so we could be in line at the market by six. In those days, spaces were rented on a first come, first serve basis.


I always felt a bit like the Beverly Hillbillies as my dad and I pulled into our space in his fire-engine red Chevy truck, and set up our sunshine yellow, polka-dot pool umbrellas for shade. I would then set out the Christmas red and bottle-green boat cushions as our seats on the tailgate. But then we unloaded my dad's masterpiece - a handcrafted barn board table with the words Honey For Sale engraved into the front apron. The pints, quarts and gallon jugs of our honey, the sun lighting up the liquid gold inside, looked amazing on that table.


Most Saturdays we made enough profit to stop and get a Big Mac, fries and a coke on the the way home. But making money was never really the point of it, I got to spend priceless Saturday mornings with my dad; sitting on our boat cushions, eating store bought cookies, and drinking lemonade out of a big silver thermos. Those are some of my happiest memories from childhood and I would never trade a moment of them.


I still go to the Farmers Market every week, but as a customer instead of as a vendor. The Farmers Market is the trendy thing to do now, everybody wants fresh fruit, vegetables and unprocessed, raw honey.


Now I wander the aisles with my daughter, shopping for plants, picking out fresh strawberries, selecting fresh flowers for the dining room table. We stop every week at our favorite coffee booth for 16 oz. cups of the flavor of the week. We chat with the guy behind the coffee pots, sharing bits of our morning thus far.


My dad, at 81, still keeps his bees. He doesn't need to go to the Farmers Market anymore, those early days lead to many repeat and loyal customers. Now he has more demand than supply. But if he did decide to go back to the market, he would still have a very willing helper.

19 comments:

Kate said...

Beautiful memories. I always loved going to the Holland Farmer's Market whenever I visited my mom.

Michelle B said...

Such wonderful memories! I enjoy going to the farmer's markets to get fresh fruit and vegetables, next time I will have to pick up some honey too. Your images are great, I love the depth of field.

Jeanne said...

Really enjoyed sharing in your lovely memories Sarah, and your photos are great! I too love going to farmers market, but mine is in Dallas

Anonymous said...

Wonderful post, Sarah. This brought back memories to me, too, of when my husband decided to keep a beehive in our suburban back yard. My daughter's memories aren't as pleasant as yours, since she got badly stung once and has never forgotten (nor forgiven) it.
PS - I loved your introduction to this post on Facebook, that "When a story stays in your heart long enough, eventually it finds a way to come out..."

Unknown said...

What an absolutely beautiful story. There is nothing like fresh honey. Great pics too

Sandra said...

What a lovely story about you and your dad and the bee-keeping and how you both went to the market together to sell the honey! Lovely pictures to illustrate your words.

Annette said...

What wonderful memories of time spent with your dad. I have great memories of fishing with my dad on the weekends.

Lynne said...

Loved this "Honey Days With Dad," farmer's markets, photographs and your delicious story telling style . . .

Ahayes1225 said...

Wonderful memories. That sure is a lot of honey. Which one is your Dads?

Deanna said...

Oh, Sarah, I loved this story. You brought those wonderful memories to life with your story-telling. And yes, I am one of those that go to the Farmer's Market on Saturdays during the summer, buying probably much the same as you. I am so delighted to know that your Dad is still beekeeping.

Unknown said...

Truly memories to cherish forever, Sarah.
I loved reading this.

Nicki said...

What memories. I sometimes think that we are cheating the next generation of these memories. Simple, basic, occasionally the effort outweighing the reward (or at least in terms of immediate reward).

Wonderful post.

Electric | Journal said...

Wow... what an amazing story, Sarah. Such wonderful memories of your dad, of that priceless time spent together. It's so great that he still keeps bees. I am also a Saturday Market (and farm stand) junkie; I love wandering through the booths to see what people grow, and the creative things people make with their own hands.

Justine said...

wonderful memories and I agree a lovely story. It looks like your farmers markets are very similar to ours, wonderful photographs

Cathy H. said...

Sara, this is just wonderful! You and your dad had such special times together. I don't often go to farmer's markets. I can't seem to find any easy to get to and easy to park. I need to just pick a Saturday and visit one!

Viv@Thoughts from the Desktop said...

Ah Sarah a great piece of family memories. Organic honey is the best, our Somerset honey is sought after at our local farmer's market.

Jill said...

That is such a wonderful story and great memories. If only you could photograph those days now! But, you painted the picture in my mind with your words. :)

Suburban Girl said...

So sweet. I love your description of the morning getting ready for the market.

Roxi H said...

I nearly missed this one! You suck us right in to the story. Or me at least. I noticed the Lemonjello coffee. I have a funny story. I know of a black lady that named one of her twins Lemonjello and pronounced it le-monj'-a-lo'. I think the other one was Orangejello.(I can't remember now) Why? because she liked those two jello flavors. Only in Texas. Yes some are pretty stupid down here. We crack up every time we remember her saying that.