I Love a Good Farmers’ Market

Okay, so let me just up front apologize for the quality of these photos. I cannot believe I am about to do an entire post, replete with photos taken with my iPhone. I’m afraid that I will have my blogging license revoked. Please don’t quit me. It’s just that I didn’t have my camera with me, and this farmer’s market is too beautiful to miss an opportunity to share it with you. It’s called Oak Street Farmers’ Market and it’s the most quaint little market I have ever visited. Part of the charm is that it is located right in the middle of Crestline Village next door to the police station and across the street from the library.

Oak Street Farmers’ Market is constructed from wood and corrugated tin and old windows and red paint. It is filled with hand painted images of corn and watermelons and basil and geraniums and eggplants and huge red patio umbrellas. It has the most gorgeous and lush flowers and bedding plants and the most interesting selection of produce. They carry the standards like corn, green beans, and peaches, but they also carry shallots and other interesting items that we don’t get in the produce section of Walmart. I wanted to come up with a recipe using shallots just so I could buy these gorgeous things!

They have the most beautiful selection of herb plants, with some that I have never seen before. I saw this red basil and wondered how to use it in a recipe. Anybody know?
And the flowers! Oh, the gorgeous flowers! The colors that only God could have designed! There were red geraniums.
And pink hydrangeas.
And the glorious spectrum of zinnias.
And, of course, what farmers’ market is complete without an array of locally made jams and jellies? These two made their way into my shopping basket.
(I mean, I know I have already addresses the lameness of the photography, but HELLO!?! It’s not even in focus! That new camera will come none too soon.)
And my favorite part of the whole trip… when Patterson saw this:
She walked right up to him, so excitedly, and screamed, “MAMA! There’s Jesus! There’s Jesus! Can I give Him a kiss?” Why, yes, little one, you certainly can give Him a kiss.
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that it’s really a statue of somebody else. Can you identify this saint? It’s not St. Francis. I thought it might be Saint Fiacre, the patron saint of gardens, but I don’t think so. Who is this mystery saint?

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