I found a new use for plastic bags, a new way to reuse them. Even though I try to avoid getting plastic bags, The Man does not, so they continue to accumulate. I bring the used produce bags with me and reuse them. That's one way to reuse them. But sometimes I do not need a bag for my produce so I put my produce in a bag and have the guy weigh my produce to calculate the price, then I take it out of the bag and continue on, using my bag over and over just for weighing things.
Today I went to the farmers market and bought some soap made from olive oil. Smells like lavender. It does not come wrapped in plastic. Just a little piece of cardboard around the outside.
I bought some jojoba oil in a small glass bottle. I've wanted to try it on my skin for a long time. It has a very light consistency. Sometimes I use some other oil, I think it is almond, but it is too heavy and my clothes begin to smell like rancid oil, even after washing them, if I use it daily. I'm hoping the jojoba is better. It grows natively in the Colorado Desert near Joshua Tree and that's where the farm that grows it is from.
I have a box made of woven palm that I bring with me to the market now. The box originally had some corporate gift in it from one of the big companies I used to work for. I've been saving it for a long time thinking someday I'll find a use for it. I finally figured out a good use. I put my peaches or other precious fruit in the box. That helps me get it home without as much damage.
The farmers market has valet parking for your bicycle. I used it today. In the past I would look for a palm tree skinny enough to lock my bike up, but sometimes I wouldn't be able to find one. The valet parking really helps. There are no bike racks because the market is held in parking lot that normally doesn't need any bike parking.
I enjoy the farmers market but the food is very expensive. Last time I went, fresh figs were $4 a basket. That was too much so I didn't buy any. This week they were $5 a basket. Yikes! Most of the produce is a lot more expensive than regular stores, but the peaches taste like peaches (at least if you pick the good farmers that grow peaches made for eating, not for shipping) and the tomatoes taste like tomatoes. The chicken tastes like chicken, too, which makes no sense until you've tried one.
This afternoon I will be playing my fiddle with the Glendessary Jam in a park near the Old Mission. They don't have enough fiddle players and are feeling desperate enough that even I will be not just welcomed (which I always am) but almost begged for. That's desperate!