Last Saturday we spent the morning at the Ogden Farmers' Market along Historic 25th Street. The weather was perfectly fallish and the downtown streets were alive with people selling their wares.
I went around to the other booths to collect their business cards as well as to hand the other artists ours. One booth had a delightful couple selling a wide variety of things. We began talking about selling at street fairs and the lady said the best thing is there are no sad people --- only happy people come out to Farmers' Markets.
That gave me quite a lot to think about. Is that so? Are there no sad people lurking around? Am I surrounded by happy people? I looked around... the people at the booths all seemed happy and were a joy to talk to.
I looked more. I found dads pushing baby strollers, couples with bags full of fresh produce, boyfriends holding hands of their girlfriends as they strolled along, ladies finding new jewelry treasures, teenagers flirting, kids having fun riding the Juniper Express Train around the block....and the list goes on of the happy people I saw around me.
Then I started to look at the buildings and my mind wandered to the mysterious history of 25th Street or Two Bit Street. It has been said more than once that this street is where "Any man’s desire were fulfilled for two bits." Laws were loose here, people could drink bootleg spirits, spend time with the ladies of the night, smoke opium, and maybe get lost in the tunnels that traverse under the buildings. And I smiled. Sordid history is such fun to think about.
When I returned to our booth, I saw my talented husband joyfully talking about his craft and our daughter having fun arranging and rearranging the jewelry. They were both happy and I smiled again.
Then I started to look at the buildings and my mind wandered to the mysterious history of 25th Street or Two Bit Street. It has been said more than once that this street is where "Any man’s desire were fulfilled for two bits." Laws were loose here, people could drink bootleg spirits, spend time with the ladies of the night, smoke opium, and maybe get lost in the tunnels that traverse under the buildings. And I smiled. Sordid history is such fun to think about.
When I returned to our booth, I saw my talented husband joyfully talking about his craft and our daughter having fun arranging and rearranging the jewelry. They were both happy and I smiled again.
So, I think it must be true --- only happy people come out to Farmers' Markets!!!
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