I don’t know if its genetics
but it’s a known fact amongst my family that none of us can garden. That being
said, it in no way limited our love for home-grown, local food just because our
tomato plants always died. Instead we sought refuge in the local farmer’s
markets. At least once a month we’d take the short drive to the farmer’s market
and spend the day there. My mom would shop for groceries and all natural olive
oil and balsamic vinaigrette while my dad would get his fill at the peanut
stand. My siblings and I would search for the kettle corn and any of our
favorite fruits. We would stroll the aisles of venders that greeted us with
warm smiles as they showcased their seasons pickings. At times, we would beg my
mom to splurge on some unnecessary home-made candy or run around causing a
ruckus until my dad told us to calm down. Regardless of our actions, going to
the farmer’s market was always an adventure as a child.
While we didn’t get all our groceries from the farmer’s
market, we supplemented what we got from the supermarket at the farmer’s
market. My parents always felt it was important to support local businesses as
well as feed us kids with foods that were essentially just good for us. Now,
being a college student away from my family, I miss those weekends at the
farmer’s markets more than ever. Eating locally wasn’t just about eating foods
that I knew were good for me and fresher. It became a symbol of a great family
tradition that I will always cherish. Plus, the Burke farmer’s market always
had the best kettle corn.
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