Look at this.

There’s no mention of Nana Ca’chews, Pompah Doughs, Gingerbends, or even Muggy Cakes! 13th COOKIE treats are timeless.

No, really loves the Farmers’ Market.

I take the Cookie Box down every week (or Megu does) and wander back and forth saying hello, acknowledging intrigued glances, smiling at smiles given, saying “thank you” to kind words, and selling cookies. I love it.

Wait, I’m not sure you understand – I love the Farmers’ Market. I want to bake a cake for the Farmers’ Market… and make it a couple layers… and the layers in-between would be cookie. I want to go to Clay Play or Color Me Mine and paint a picture frame together to hold a picture of us happily enjoying each other, me and the Farmers’ Market. I want to write a song about the Farmers’ Market and badly sing it at the top of my lungs and not care at all because it comes from my swollen heart. I want to write a 96-page letter to the Farmers’ Market while it’s gone all winter and I don’t even hear from it. It won’t even matter. I love the Farmers’ Market.

I love that I can go to the Farmers’ Market with cookies I made and come home with money, sure, but also bags of spinach and greens and tomatoes and strawberry plants and a warm feeling of accomplishment and community and kinship. What kind of awesome, magical place is this where I can trade cookies I made with love for strawberry plants someone else grew with love?!? I love the Farmers’ Market.

*sigh*

I just love it. I just love the Farmers’ Market.