Let It…
Oh, please, no more snow until after the holidays. As much as I would love a white Christmas, Mother Nature, please hold off on Saturdays and Sundays until after the holidays season. Last weekend I was smug about getting into the city on Saturday night for a date where the house party performer ended the evening with a sing-along of the holiday classic Let It Snow, and I was dumb enough to sing along. The meteorologists had all said the worst-case scenario would be 1.2 inches and I thought to myself we’ve got this. After all, there was a time when we built snowmen an set them on our tables at the market. A paltry inch and it would be done, coming down early in the morning—no problem.
But then nothing ever turns out as it exactly as you want it to, and by the time I had returned to my overnight accommodation for the evening, the market had already been canceled. I can’t even turn my phone off for a lousy two hours without all my well laid plans falling apart. Not to be foiled by fate, I set up in my friends’ driveway only a few blocks from my usual spot. The night before in an effort to alert my customers to the cancellation I figured out the mobile phone app for MailChimp and emailed everyone my temporary location. In addition, anyone with prepaid orders got an additional text message. This is Plan B in the 21st century. My regulars did not disappoint and even more interesting were the neighborhood people walking their dogs, stopping by and also unexpectedly shopping. I wonder if I will now see them at the market from here on out.
Touching base with other vendors once I had made it back to the farm, unpacked and settled up for the day I found I was not the only one to have made the best of the situation.
“I emailed my neighborhood today and sold $1200 worth of product in 2 hours from my garage,” said one. Another considered the cancellation a godsend because their Saturday markets had taken up so much of their inventory they would have had little to sell on Sunday.
But a little old snowstorm that cancels a single week of market pales in comparison to the heart breaks, calamities, and insanities currently taking place around the world and in our own country. This week I am thinking about all of my customers who will be celebrating Hanukkah in the wake of the Australian tragedy. And then there is everyone who shows up on Sundays wearing their Brown sweatshirts and hats repping either their alma mater or where they are sending their children to school. I have no room to grump about petty disappointments or sulk back over the hill without trying. If anything, last weekend once again reinforced my belief in community. During the holiday season, we tend to get ahead of ourselves with travel, events, and festivities rushing through our shopping.
I know the market is going to be busy and crowded this week. There will be lines, and you may not get a parking spot as close as you want. Life doesn’t always go as we would like, but it goes a lot more smoothly when you make the best of a situation. This Sunday visit with a stranger with whom you are standing in line. Feel free to sing along if somebody is playing holiday music. Talk about this community in which we all stay fed in both our bodies and hearts.