I’m an optimist so I don’t put the year in the title. Once again: Writing is therapeutic. Open up whatever program you use to write stuff in, and see what comes out. Today’s adventure was the Socially Distanced Farmers’ Market.
They were organized as hell, the market subdivided into three Zones, each with its own line-up, social distance chalked on the sidewalk. The people density was unusually high in the neighborhood and a lot of people have started just walking down the middle of the street, screw the motorists. I find this cheering.
People are so open and friendly! Everyone has a smile for everyone and random conversations break out between strangers. This is usually a good thing, but in the Zone 1 lineup I found myself behind a conspiracy-theorist, talking about how the “higher ups” were getting ready to impose food rationing.
I think serious food shortages unlikely in the developed world, but parts of our agricultural industry depend for harvesting on poorly-paid abusively-treated migrant laborers. When they can’t come, we’ll see if agribiz lets the produce rot in the fields or raises wages enough to attract unemployed Canadians; and produce prices correspondingly.
Market menu · Potatoes. More potatoes. Damn, really a lot of potatoes. We have a stash but I bought fingerlings anyhow because they were cute. The first new harvest in mid-spring is rhubarb; I bet there’s some starting next week.
The shopping list comprised apples, rolled oats, salad greens, dill, chives, cilantro, and a red onion. I scored about 50% — by noon-ish when I got there, a lot of vendors’ shelves were looking bare. But also I got artisanal gin, handcrafted chocolate, and wildflower honey.
We’re having a virtual movie party with a friend this evening; Turtle Diary, I think.
Take time to be kind to each other; loved ones and strangers too.