Market and Miscellaneous

Anyone who has done marketing at a farmer's market knows how hectic the preparation for the first market of the season can be. Equipment that has been stored for six months has to be located. Some of it needs a good cleaning. The vehicle needs to be washed and vacuumed. Routines need dusting off as well. We make a trip to the bank for cash. We make a sign for each item offered, either at the computer or with markers at the dining room table. We harvest and wash vegetables. We plan to have everything ready early the evening before, so we can get a good night's rest before rising early the next morning to finish preparations, take care of our animals and open the greenhouse, eat breakfast, and hurry off in time to make the trip to town and get set up before the opening bell at 7:30 AM.

Hiromi worked from 12:30-8:30 on Friday, so I did the afternoon preparations solo. After I got home from Lizzie's house where I had gone to pick up some rhubarb we were selling for her, I heard a deflating (!) hissing sound when I got out of the minivan. It was coming from a rear tire, and I saw the tire shrink before my eyes. I called Grant immediately to see if he had any suggestions for me. I couldn't bear to think of trying to get to the spare, buried as it is underneath a very heavy plywood produce rack that resides in the back of the van. It was already loaded to the gills for market. Repair shops were closed, and I didn't have a way to take the tire anywhere anyway.

"See if you can find where the hissing is coming from and mark it," Grant said. "Maybe I can plug the hole temporarily. I'll be home before long." I hurried out, paint marker in hand. The hissing had stopped, and the rim rested on the gravel. It would have to wait for Grant. I didn't even try to think of options. There weren't any good ones.

But Grant came through with flying colors. He found two holes close together, as if a giant fence staple had created the puncture wounds. He plugged them and inflated the tire, and instructed me to make sure that someone takes the tire to a shop as soon as we get set up at market. That wasn't entirely a bright prospect, since I was already dreading Hiromi having to leave the market in time to be at work at 9:30, but it seemed workable, and certainly better than all the alternatives.

I continued to make preparations till Hiromi came home around 9:00. "Why isn't there any water?" he asked from the kitchen sink.

"I don't know. It was working till now."

"Well, it's not working now. I've got to eat something. I don't want to think about fixing this, but we've got to have water." After he had been revived with food, Hiromi changed clothes and armed himself with a cell phone, his electrical current tester, some basic tools, a flashlight and the battery-powered camping lantern, and headed for the well site in the alfalfa field south of the house. I kept plodding on, making signs.

He came back some time later. "It was a mouse again. It committed suicide inside the pressure switch," he said. For good measure, the mouse had left a piece of its toe behind--Hiromi's professional analysis-- in a crucial location, and Hiromi had to make a second attempt to restore unimpeded circuitry after he removed the mouse. All was well in the water department by 10:00.

I told Hiromi about the plan of action for fixing the tire the next morning. "I'll have to leave as soon as Cooper Tire opens--probably at 8:00," Hiromi said. Sigh.

I think we got to bed around 11:00, and set the alarm for 5:00.

Hiromi was dubious about the plan for him taking Shane's truck to market, but neither of us could see how three ice chests full of pork could fit into the van, in addition to the five 4-6 foot tables we were also hauling this first market day. Hiromi is still a bit traumatized from having had to acquire a trucker's license and learning to drive in Tokyo's clogged, narrow streets. Small is beautiful to Hiromi where vehicles are concerned. (His clunky '84 Chevy Caprice is an aberration.)

When Hiromi went out to load the truck in the morning, he saw that the gas tank was empty, and was pretty sure this was a sign that he shouldn't drive the truck. "Call Shane," I suggested. He was on his way to Virginia, and so we weren't getting him out of bed by calling early.

"Just switch it to the other tank," Shane instructed. "That one's full." With no excuses left, we ventured forth in two vehicles, me in the lead, so he could come to my rescue in case the tire didn't hold out till we got to town.

The place was teeming with activity when we got there--none too early. We got finished with our setup just as the opening bell sounded. Whew. No time to relax though. Customers filled the place immediately, and we answered questions and sold rhubarb, lettuce, chard, plants, and meat at a good clip. Hiromi left and returned about 30 minutes later with a repaired tire--$20.00 poorer, though. He helped in the market stall again, and made a round through the building to see what else was going on, and then left for work at Wal-Mart.

It was a marvelous morning--lovely weather, and lots of floor traffic. Roman sold out and left by 9:30. This is a far cry from several years ago, when vendors were few and customer traffic light during the first few market days of the season. Even at the peak of the season, the stalls were not all filled. This year on the first day, most of the stalls were full--with two rows instead of one down the center, as we used to have.

A hug for Kathy, a report on the plants I got from him for James T., our special cutflower zinnias for Pam P. and Mark R., chard for the man who always buys it, Shane's ham steaks for the chef at Wilder's, catching up with Norma--the Amish baked goods vendor beside us, cheery exchanged greetings with many customers and friends--what's not to love about being at the market?

I closed shop by myself, packing all the ice chests into the van and toting all the tables into the storage room. The vegetables were all sold, and the ice chests were lighter and the plant trays fewer, but there were still a lot of little things to pack into the van. I think I was the last to finish. And then I had to total the sales for the day. We had our highest sales total ever--even without counting the meat sales. That was a good way to finish.

The meat had to be unloaded back into the big freezer immediately after I got home, but I parked the minivan in the shade and decided that unloading the plants could wait. Hiromi did that after he got home. That parking location didn't seem like such a good idea this morning when we got in the van to go to church. It was apparently a popular overnight bird roosting spot, so we drove to church with many unsavory deposits on the windshield.


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The Hutchinson News carried a nice article last week on the opening of the Farmer's Market. Twice in the article, "cold crops" were mentioned as being among the offerings at the market. I had the nerve to send an email to the reporter who wrote the article, protesting the use of a term that should have been "cole crops."

Here's what I wrote:

In the article "Raising their hopes" on page one of the May 29, 2011 paper, the term "cold crops" is used twice. I believe this is an incorrect term. The proper term is "cole crops." Cole crops are crops in the Brassica* genus, all of which happen to also be comparatively cold tolerant. If their cold tolerance is being emphasized, "cold crops" is not the best way to say that. "Cold tolerant" would be much better, or "early-season crops," or "cool weather crops." A one-word adjective to modify crops simply does not suffice--when temperature preferences are being addressed, at least.

We don't call tomatoes and melons "hot crops." We call them warm season crops, or season-long crops, or late-summer crops, but never "hot crops."

In my experience, even competent gardeners don't always get the "cold crop/cole crop" distinction right, so I don't suppose every newspaper staff member and editor will get it right, but, from now on, I'm guessing you will. The problem is complicated, of course, when people simply hear the term and misunderstand and then repeat it, or write what they think they heard, using the familiar "c-o-l-d" spelling.

I did appreciate the coverage of the opening of the Farmer's Market, and the article was informative otherwise. I used to handle publicity for the Farmer's Market, so I'm aware of how valuable this exposure is.

Thanks for bringing us this good news!

Miriam Iwashige


*The Free Online Dictionary directs you to this entry if you type in "cole crop:"

brassica

Any plant of the large genus Brassica, in the mustard family, containing about 40 Old World species and including the cabbages, mustards, and rapes. B. oleracea has many edible varieties, such as broccoli, Brussels sprouts, cabbage, cauliflower, kale, and kohlrabi. Also included in this genus are the turnip (B. rapa), the rutabaga (B. napobrassica), and the Chinese cabbages (B. pekinensis and B. chinensis).

P.S. This plant family has many informal identifiers as well: Cruciferae (an older term than Brassica), Crucifers, Cabbage family, and Mustard family. (End of Quote)

When the reply came back, it began like this: "Thank ya, you are correct." I only mentally corrected the errors in the reply.

The writer and her editor had apparently had a discussion about whether "cold crops" was right, and she promised to convey to her editor what she learned.

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The Kuepfer family in Virginia is all together now, since Shane and Joe and Marilyn arrived last evening. They plan to be there till the 29th, when the seven family members from Kansas (Thailand is also home to three of the Kansans.) return in Gary's minivan. That should be an interesting trip. Two pregnant ladies--one carrying twins, a toddler, and every seat in the seven-passenger van full. I think this will not be a trip for setting speed records, and hopefully family love will still be strong when the trip is over.

Shane's dog, Brandi, is staying here, and Lexi and her puppies are staying again at Josephs. With Lawrence's swimming lesson last time for one of the puppies (It turned out to be a near-death experience.) thoroughly addressed and presumably repented of, there's a lot of happy puppy cuddling time ahead for puppies and children alike while Shane and Dorcas are gone.

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My parents and Linda, along with Henry and Lizzie Schrock returned this evening from having spent the weekend with my brother Ronald's family and others in Labette County. They had a big storm there this afternoon, mostly after they left. The storm was moving east, and possibly also north of there, and they drove home to the west. Storm chasers from Texas drove by Ronald's house, and Ronald reports that clouds swirled overhead, like watching a turbulent river from an underwater vantage point. Four to five inches of rain fell in their general area.

An article in a Kansas City newspaper reports softball-sized hail in Labette County this afternoon, and severe tornado damage in Joplin, MO just across the state line, with 24 deaths, and many injuries.

Linda says that the hospital where Mark Nisly works suffered some damage, but another hospital nearby was "de-roofed."

TV stations there are not operating, and telephone service is not working. Emergency service crews are converging on the area from surrounding towns.

I understand that there was severe weather elsewhere in the Midwest this afternoon. In contrast, we had a beautiful, calm, and sunny day here.

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There's rain in the forecast again for next week--currently at 70% for Monday night. That sounds like a wonderful prospect, but it's amazing how much last week's rain has already lifted everyone's mood. We know now that the drought will not go on forever, and for a while, we all felt that it might.

I read somewhere that the La Nina weather pattern is weakening, and will likely have very little effect by the end of May. Perhaps we are already benefiting from this change.

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Ervin Miller is recovering since his surgery last Sunday evening. No one is talking yet about a specific time for him being released from the hospital, and it's likely that he will need to spend some time in the skilled nursing area before he returns home.

It is a blessing that his three children who are traveling in Europe with their spouses can continue their trip plans without interruption.

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My Uncle Edwin plans to move to Mennonite Manor on Tuesday of this week. With a lot of help from his family, especially Leanna, he has been able to live alone till now. He has Parkinson's Disease however; his eyesight is failing significantly, and he has fallen during the night and not been able to get up by himself. (He summoned help with a device he wears.) So it seems best now for him to be where someone is wakeful and on duty constantly. Edwin will be 90 in August. His mind is still very clear, and he enjoys visiting.

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Today during share time at church Arlyn asked each person to share something. Starting at the center aisle, every two people on a bench were to team up, with groups of three at the end if there was an odd number of people.

In our group of three, Rhoda shared how she was blessed to see God's faithfulness during a recent time of caring for her mother who has Alzheimer's. "Her mind is mostly gone, but God is still faithful," she said.

Rose said that she was really moved recently when Shane led the song "Nearer My God, to Thee" after a sermon in which there was teaching on how suffering can draw us to God. She saw that the song was full of references to the life of Jacob, and that story of suffering and being drawn nearer to God became deeply meaningful. She sang the song several times during the following week, and the family sang it together.

I shared how I was blessed from the references in the last part of II Peter 1 (today's SS lesson) where Peter says in effect that he's writing because he knows that he will die soon, and he wants his teaching to be accessible after he's gone. I am deeply grateful for the printed Word. Scripture is precious, but so is the privilege of knowing the thoughts of many who are no longer among the living--because they wrote their thoughts down.

That three minutes of sharing was a good time.

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Lucille Yoder died. She was the handicapped daughter of Fannie and the late Albert Yoder. The funeral is to be at Plainview. I would guess she may have been in her late 40s or early 50s. She has lived for many years in an institution outside of our community.

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John Christener's mother also died, with the funeral being in Abilene this week. Although she never lived closer than the Salina area, she used to come to our church occasionally, with John, when he attended regularly, and later, rarely, to provide transportation for John and Esther's family who had moved to another part of Kansas. Her husband was a judge--at one time, at least. She was part of a Plymouth Brethren congregation, as I recall.