Some of our farmer’s market vendors are threatening to defect. They’ve experienced the greener grass of another farmer’s market, and by “greener” I mean more lucrative, and are feeling under appreciated at our market.

They’ve been complaining that the Garden Farmer’s Market (our local market) isn’t worth their time anymore – now that they can make big bucks selling their stuff to more appreciative customers at the Manistique market — the “Third best farmer’s market in Michigan” according to its organizers.

“The customer’s are lined up, money in hand, chomping at the bit and waiting for the market to open,” one of the under appreciated vendors told me.

“We sell out within a half-hour!” added another neglected vendor. “And people don’t complain about the prices.”

It sounded like the farmer’s market of “milk and honey” compared to the Garden Market, which has been ridiculously slow this year. We barely managed to sell two bags of lettuce last week. And some of the people who stopped by the market to look around complained about the prices. Which is completely illogical. They’d rather spend the gas money to drive 60 miles to the nearest grocery store and buy a cheap-ass head of iceburg lettuce trucked from California, than spend $3 on a large bag of organically grown lettuce picked that morning. A few folks actually had the nerve to complain about the price of $3.50 for home-baked bread made with fresh-ground wheat (really, the most freaking addictive and fantastic bread I’ve ever had). Again, would these people really rather buy bread from the grocery store that is made God-knows-where, and laced with corn syrup, that costs as much if not more than the local loaf? Why do we demand that our food be so cheap? You get what you pay for.

I decided to check out the “third best farmer’s market in Michigan” for myself. And it was all my fellow vendors said it would be. I joined the crowd at the door, money in hand, waiting for the opening bell to ring. The variety was certainly better than our market, organic beef, strawberries, local honey and an array of baked goods. But there was only about 9 vendors. (my friends who attend some of Montana’s uber-popular markets would think the “third best farmer’s market in Michigan” was a joke.)

If our vendors choose to quit coming to the Garden farmer’s market, it will leave a huge hole. No more handmade tortillas, no more local red beans and wheat berries, far less produce to choose from, no more pies, cookies. And it might nearly kill our market. The local population should know better. We are a rural society, each of us struggling economically, and we need to support each other if we are to survive and thrive. Why isn’t this happening at our farmer’s market?

After convincing my fellow farmer’s marketers not to leave — that we perform a vital community service, not to mention we would miss their company at the market, some of them agreed to stay. They justify it as a social event and saturday morning ritual they still enjoy. But their selection will be very very minimal because they don’t want to put the effort into the prep work.

Support your local farmer’s market. Seek it out. Show them some love. They are performing a vital community service.