I miss my farmer’s market cohorts, a happy bunch. Friendly, always something nice to say — midwesterners have cornered the market on friendliness. There just isn’t enough in our garden to share right now. Spinach is bolting before it’s three-inches high. Lettuce just looks wilted and the brown spots are edible, for us, not for public consumption. Beans, green and yellow, are gearing up and as soon as they start producing I’ll be back in the game.

Then there was the 4th of July and a good ol’ town parade and picnic complete with pie tent. The parade consisted mostly of 4-wheelers, fire trucks, and dump trucks and more candy than could be collected by even the most greedy child. Cheap imitation Tootsie Rolls littered the one street in town hours after the parade had passed. I should mention the Thimbleberry Queens all dragged out in big red wigs, butterfly sunglasses, fuzzy pink cowgirl hats, and hot pink and red getups — all local gals, dolled up beyond recognition — including 92-year old Nancy working a mean lasso.

At the pie tent I was told my company was requested at the farmer’s market, even if I don’t have anything to sell. So I went, looking forward to picking up some bread from a new farmer’s market vendor I haven’t met yet. Her bread was wonderful, whole grain from wheat they grind themselves. Light. Seemed like a slow day, but I was told I missed the rush. One local commented it is more like a coffee clutch than a farmers market. That is true. I try so hard to avoid the plate of Sandy’s double-chocolate cherry cookies. Sandy said she saw me at the parade on the fourth. I was puzzled. I don’t remember seeing her. I could tell by her grin she was one of those Thimbleberry Queens. They had a blast dressing up and getting sassy.

Eggs. Tortillas. Red beans. Darn, no tofu, where has Fumi been? Nancy had some maple syrup and some dried herbs. Other than that, slim pickings But Belinda had wheat berries for seventy-five cents a pound. Wonderful, I’ve been needing whole wheat flour. I’ll grind it myself and mix it with white flour. Both Belinda and the new bread lady told me they sprout the berries, eat them as cereal, put them in salad. Eat local. A quick visit to the farmer’s market can be so inspiring.