This week Baby A and I went to the farmer’s market in Santa Monica. It was his second, but the first time that he was in the Baby Bjorn carrier. This give him a front row seat to all the action: the farmers, the fruit, the flowers and the vegetables. He loved it, sampling nectarines, berries, basil and oranges. He even picked out his own tomato, which he carried and chewed on as we shopped.
I have always enjoyed the market. I love the way it smells. I love talking to the farmers about how they grow their food and why they do so. I love the food when I get home. It tastes better than anything I ever buy at the grocery store and, as a result, I eat more fruits and vegetables. It has always been a time investment in my health. Now, that Baby A is enjoying it too; it feeds my body and my soul.
Note: The title of this post may seem a bit weird. It comes from M. who asks each time I return from the farmer’s market if I bought a farmer.
