It was as if someone turned the spigot on that morning. Love was flowing through me, rusty pipes and all.
Saturday morning I made my way down to Batavia’s Farmer’s Market. My first time. And though I’d heard it was a great little market, my expectations weren’t a match for the experience that awaited. Already booths were abundant with organic fruits and veggies, flowers bunched and wrapped in that brown crinkly paper, tied with yellow grosgrain ribbon…the kind your Grandmother used to hold your hair back out of your eyes.
Local honey and stories about bright green and yellow patty pan squash, no longer yellow, but swirls of bright yellow and the deepest forest greens I’ve ever witnessed on a vegetable. Seems the bees were cross-pollinating now (something many of us single folks sometimes have on our minds!). Beets, sweet and the color of strawberries came with a promise that if I tried them and wasn’t happy, the farmer would give me a refund.
Happy chickens that actually walked around all day, cows that didn’t go into the barn ’til sunset. Just like the Midwestern folks I’ve met, seems the food must be happy too. Of course, being a virgin market attendee, I overbought…maybe to have an excuse to invite my son and grandson over for Sunday brunch?
Done now, lugging the bags toward the top of River St., I glanced over to see the most beautiful handmade bread and pastries ever! Well, the exception is my best friend, Charlotte’s breads whose Grandmother, Ida created and lovingly passed on to her. There they were! So I had to stop, right? Knowing I’d be eating enough gluten to inflame the joints of every soul I knew didn’t deter me one bit. Salivating, I watched him pull the loaf of walnut raisin rye, two almond scones, and a half dozen English muffins. Anxious, diving into my wallet, I saw the sign…“Cash only, please”. I could feel the disappointment flooding over me as I stood with my useless debit card. Then, that sweet guy’s voice stopped the spiral of despair. “Don’t worry about it. Really. Just enjoy it. Next time you come to the Market, pay me then.” I began the offers…“I can find an ATM. Let me just take a croissant. Keep my driver’s license. How about I give you my first-born?” He handed me the bag, smiled and repeated, “Just enjoy it.”
I walked away feeling a bit teary with joy. There’s no shortage of love even in these days that can feel as if we are living in the darkness of an empty cellar at times. It’s so easy to lose sight of the love all around when we are busy, not feeling well or watching the national news…or when we’re alone, in a new town, out of a relationship with someone we thought was our forever love.
Just for today, take time to be loving to those you meet, recalling all the people in your life who love you to the moon and back. If all else fails, go to the movies and see the documentary about Fred Rogers, “Won’t You Be My Neighbor?”. It’s worth the money and a couple of hours of your life and a box of Kleenex to be reminded of what they say in another of my favorite films, “Love Actually”…“Love really is…all around”.
If you’d like some help in finding that love of your life, why not call me and see how that can happen?
Donna Bailey, MS
Coach, Speaker, Writer and Expert in Dating and Relationships for Grown-ups
Donna’s Big RED Chair
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