Farmers' Market cultivates a sense of community

About a third of the booths feature jewelers, potters, and other local craftspeople. At a booth for Fantasy Wear, a girl with pigtails tries on a pink-and-gold-fabric crown and twirls around in a turquoise cape with polka dots and hot pink lining. Jill Green, who has been selling her handmade designs here for five years, learned her craft early: Her mother was a seamstress and her father owned a sewing factory. "Can I buy it?" asks a small girl, touching a hooded, midnight-blue velvet cloak shot with tiny silver stars. "Maybe for your birthday," her mother replies.

At the next booth, the sign reads, "Dispositions adjusted." Two women seated on chairs lean forward with their faces pressed into cervical pillows, as men standing over them massage their shoulders. "People bring their aches and pains to the Farmers' Market," Ron Minnes says between clients. "Theoretically we do a 10-minute massage here for $10, but I don't think anybody gets under 20 minutes."

Overall, it's an eclectic offering, united by what David Schoales, the market's manager, calls its informal motto: "Homemade, homegrown, and hand crafted. It has to be produced by the person selling it."

What also unites the vendors is their uniform excellence. "Vendors are all juried, so it's very high quality," Schoales explains. "People apply in the spring and a committee samples and evaluates the products."

The Wednesday market is slightly smaller than the Saturday affair, though the vendors meet the same quality standards.

But quality is only one reason people come here. Another is the live music each market day from a seemingly endless supply of local musicians. "It's colorful, it's cheerful, and there's a great spirit," Schoales says.

Many, like Aida Avery, who moved here 14 years ago from Mexico City, make the market a part of their weekly routine.