I still can’t believe I grow stuff.  I became a gardener by default. All I had to do was fall in love with a gardener and poof! all of a sudden I’m in the remote Upper Peninsula of Michigan selling my produce at the farmer’s market.

Before you get any ideas about some hip farmers market like you see in more developed areas of the country, let me set you straight.  Our farmers market is a more homely version of the farmer’s markets that are gaining popularity these days. It is about as grassroots as a farmer’s market can get these days (at least until the health department busts us for not making our food in a commercial kitchen). The three, four, or five vendors who show up each week simply pull up a bird-poop covered picnic table and spread out their wares under the Garden town pavilion.  It is more about socializing than selling.  We spend a lot of time sitting around chatting, sharing food preserving tips, gardening advise, and swapping life stories.

Before I moved to the U.P., I lived the mountain lifestyle, surrounded by young, active people and spent my free time hiking, climbing, camping, and playing hard.  Now I hang with a significantly older crowd and spend my free time digging in the dirt. I am the apprentice gardener and chief laborer for my husband — he’s been at it for 30 years.

Must be my entrepreneurial spirit that motivated me to join the Garden community farmer’s market — either that or the piles of lettuce, spinach and carrots that we’ll never eat ourselves.  Or maybe I was just desperate for some socialization — it can get pretty lonely out here on our 40 acres in the woods.  Now my husband has an excuse to expand the garden and I spend each Saturday morning chatting with Nancy, Steve and Sandy, Belinda, and Fumi and whatever other characters show up.  And I come home with a whopping $15 in produce sales to put toward our garden fund.

Steve must have got after it early, he already had greens to sell.   So the word went out that this week would be the first market and we all scrounged around our yards trying to come up with something to sell this early.  Sheesh, we just planted our greens.

Luckily, we had about 30 pounds of wintered-over carrots in the fridge. Cold-kissed carrots, so sweet.  I love watching people’s eyes get all big and surprised when they taste the super sweet carrots.  One taste equaled a sure sale.

Aside from Steve and Sandy with their greens and baked goods.  Belinda was there with her handmade tortillas — been craving those all winter. Nancy was there with maple syrup tapped from the trees in their backyard, and Fumi was there with homemade tofu, soy milk and roasted soybeans. Not bad for a podunky farmer’s market.

The first farmer’s market of the season is like a homecoming.  All the regulars showed up and purchased a little something from everyone.  It is a social event. Coffee, cookies provide a nice accompaniment to conversation, gossip and fellowship. Hey, at least it is something to do around here.

Welcome to summer in Garden, Michigan.