A Weekly Event

Last Friday we went to the local Farmer's Market. I was not sure what to expect in a smaller town, and was pleasantly surprised at all it had to offer. The kids LOVED it. We arrived without a stroller and were quickly offered a wooden radio flyer red wagon to tour the market. I scooped up B and E, got them each a little dixie cup of water and a homemade roll from the artisan bread maker at the entrance. We were off  to explore. We sought the sound of string instruments, and found three lovely older ladies playing praise songs beaming with smiles. B learned what a lap dulcimer and hammer dulcimer were, and was proud to tell the ladies he already knew what the "mitar" was called. B and E got to show off their mad skills on the shakers the ladies loaned them. After a few small purchases of strawberries and bread, we dropped the wagon off to the next needy Mommy and took off up the steep hill to the Praying Hands" (or Giant Hands as B likes to say) It was a picture perfect day. B and E enjoyed the sun on their faces and the breeze through their hair. I snapped a few photos, and we just sat in silence together, watching the world go by. For a brief moment, I swear the world stopped and it was just the three of us. My mind took a snapshot of that moment and filed it away into that place in your brain flagged "remember this always."  As my tagalongs reluctantly followed me to the car I thought to myself "there is no better way to spend every Friday." The only thing missing in the equation was our favorite Fourth, so I put a call into Dad-o on the sleepy eyed drive back home and informed him that next Friday he will be taking a personal day.