Saturday was our final market of the year. And, this week, I've been working at cutting the milking does back gradually in an effort to have them dry by Thanksgiving. Where does the year go?!
Saying goodbye until next season to our market and milk customers is always a little sad for me. Sure, market customers can still get our eggs via front porch delivery or purchase soaps and lotions online or in our retail locations. But, there's just something about that face-to-face interaction that is so precious.
Saturday morning was so much colder than I'd anticipated. It had been cool as I'd gone through my morning chores at the farm, but I guess since I was moving, I'd misjudged how cold the market would be. It was pretty clear as we set up our booth that my little helper and I were terribly under dressed. One of our dear customers took note, went to his car for a back-up jacket, and handed this warm buffalo-checked jacket over to me, saying, "you know where we live. Just drop it back by sometime." It warmed me right up and kept me smiling all morning. THIS is what market is: customers are friends.
Market is endlessly entertaining to me. The live music and bustle of shoppers and other vendors keep things lively, and there is nearly constant conversation to be had. Our first year at market, I had a gentleman saunter up, look over our soap bars, and ask me if I had "anything with peanut butter." He thought the soaps were candy! A few months back, I had a delightful conversation with another fella who asked, "so, you gotta milk them goats to get the milk outta 'em?" I've had wonderful conversations with folks who want to talk about goats. He had goats as a child. She was raised on goat milk. His grandmother used to make lye soap with their goat milk.
And, just Saturday, there was the man who came up, read our sign, and lit up with recognition. "Brood Farm? Have you ever met the lady who makes this stuff? I've heard she does it all herself -- start to finish. Milks the goats, makes the soap, packages it up -- all herself!" I told him that I'd heard she peddles it at the market herself, too. We both got a good laugh out of it! And, it was a good note to finish the market season on, too.
Until next year . . .