We sold Great Granola! (that's our brand name) at the Provo Farmer's Market again on Saturday and... WE SOLD OUT! Whoo-hoo! It was a very exciting moment indeed. We had sold most of it and then we were down to two bags. Then one bag. I had two "granola ladies" (I can pick them out a mile away now- the ones who are going to buy it or at least be tempted by it) sampling the granola. One of them was asking five million questions about it and the other one was quitely munching on her sample when she inturrupted Mrs. Questions and said, "Umm, I'll buy it." So I handed it to her, she paid me, and the deal was done. Mrs. Questions was stopped dead in her tracks. "Well, I guess I'll see you next week," she mumbled as she sulked away, still clutching her 2oz sample cup of Great Granola!.
I hate to go on after that climax, but I must also highlight one other P.F.M. moment from this past Saturday. So every now and then other vendors will approach and ask if we want to do a trade. A few weeks ago we traded a bag of granola for some lavender, lavender lemonade, and snap peas from the lavender booth. (Lavender lemonade= yum yum. It's an absolute must if you visit P.F.M.) This past Saturday a woman from Stubb's produce traded us a bunch of tomatoes and cucumbers and other nice produce for a bag of granola. Anyway, this is a usual thing among us homegrowns. So there we were sitting at our little granola table, chatting it up with the clover honey bee-loving man beside us when along came Navajo Tacos. (They don't have a booth this year, but the long-timer homegrowns with booths near us recognized them when they came near. Kendra also verified the fact.) Mrs. Navajo Tacos cut straight to the point, "Farmer's Market is all about wheelin' and dealin'. How about we give you this lunch sack of apricots that we just picked and $3.00 for a bag of granola." "Umm, sure," I said. So Bryan (official cashier) took the apricots and gave her a bag of granola and in his speed I couldn't tell whether Mrs. Navajo had already slipped him the cash. As Mr. and Mrs. Navajo were walking away I asked Bryan and he said they hadn't paid him anything except apricots. I had tried an apricot by then and they weren't even as good as the ones from skinny, creepy co-housing guy, so I was a little miffed that Mrs. Navajo had wheeled and dealed herself right out of giving us our sweet mulah. I told Kendra about it and she said to hunt them down and take them for all they had! (Actually she said, "Oh, they're really nice people. I'm sure they just forgot. If you see them just tell them they forgot to pay you.") As I was walking back to Bryan and the granola table I spotted Mr. and Mrs. Navajo trying to make a clean get away, but I called out after them boldly. It was a really awkward Umm-I-have-a-question moment. They stopped and I caught up to them. "You forgot to pay us," I spluttered out. "Oh," they said. Needless to say, it was a really awkward next couple of minutes which ended in Mr. Navajo following me back to the stand with a $5.00 bill so I could give him his $2.00 in change. The money traded hands and, alas, all is right with the world.