Stop and smell the kettle corn
Every Friday, my small Florida town has a Green Market with homemade products and lots of produce. Coming home with Middle Eastern spinach pie and pita bread, Irish cheese, semolina bread, wedges of Gouda and greens has become a ritual to end the workweek.
The aroma of cooked onions on hot dogs, kettle corn, fresh lemonade and veggie burgers fills the air while I haul my purchases in eco-friendly cloth bags. The Green Market is a feast for the eyes and palate. As I ambled by each booth this morning, the scent of kettle corn pulled me toward the couple cooking popcorn in a giant pot. I couldn’t resist buying a bag of the sweet and salty treat to munch on the way home, but the owner of the porcorn booth happened to say that she and her husband are immune to the sweet scent of cooking popcorn. “It’s only when we get a break for a couple of weeks that we enjoy it again,” she said.
Even the delicious aroma of kettle corn can get old if there’s no respite to enjoy it. I wonder how people who do nothing but work can actually enjoy what they do. Once you’re so close to a task, no matter how much you may be tied to it, you lose the ability to appreciate what others can from a distance away, as I did today with my bag of kettle corn.
The old saw about stopping to smell the roses is true. Unless we force ourselves to take a breather or unless we can step away from a task to appreciate its merits, we could be cooking up the most delicious treat without enjoying it.
I really like supporting small businesses and artisans. I’d much rather purchase an item handmade by someone than the most perfect machine-milled item. When I can see someone making kettle corn, it tastes all the better. When I can patronize the soap store a few blocks from my house and talk to the soapmaker about her products, I’m more likely to pay more for a scented cake she made by herself than I would for supermarket soap.
The Green Market gives me a chance to buy products directly from the craftspeople who care about what they make. They will even stop to talk or to offer samples. Today one of the produce booths was selling pineapples for half of the price of my supermarket–completely cored and bagged by the owner of the booth. An older woman I was chatting with bought a pineapple just because the young man did the hard work for her.
Each Friday, I look forward to my homespun shopping experience. Thanks to my flexible work schedule these days, it looks like I’ll be able to enjoy them until the Green Market closes for the season in a couple of months. There’s nothing like stopping to smell the kettle corn while you’re supporting your neighbors’ enterprises.
