Farmers' market season is officially over for me even though next week is the final market of the year. After making over 2,000 scones 'a mano' this summer I hang up my apron until next June. What begins as a meditation and therapy gradually becomes a chore that brings on near nausea and loathing by the end of the season.
Even making a simple and enjoyable meal takes on a feeling of apathy that you want to fight but at the same time are helpless to resist. Such is the end of market season. Thank heaven that all things end and there is new.
Chatting with another vendor today told me that she feels the same. However, we both agreed that being a farmers' market vendor is like having a case of retrograde amnesia. The winter gestation is greeted with expectations of newness every spring. The anticipation is so strong that we plan and replan our new ideas until they can come to fruition and greeted again by the wonderfully appreciative market goers. I must say that I am impressed how many people take the time to thank me for what I do. I cherish that.