I’m in the back of our booth, doling out fresh strawberries to the kids, their smiles already stained red.

“Do you like to drink a certain kind of tea?” I hear Turner say.

“Mmmm, I like most kinds,” the woman responds, “lots of black tea lately.”

Turner steps out from behind the table and begins telling her about our black tea blends.

He’s so good at this, I think, he can talk to anyone.

I have a harder time initiating conversation at the market. My modus operandi is to smile and say, “Feel free to smell,” gesturing to the sensory jars, “that’s what the glass jars are for—so you can get an idea of the different teas.”

Then I let folks shop and answer questions as they come. Mostly because, left to my own devices, I tend to word-vomit tea facts. Often when they're not warranted.

And I don’t want to do that and make folks uncomfortable.

Despite my own hurtles, I adore being at the farmers market. I get to share these teas that Turner and I have made. I get to occasionally word-vomit tea facts (at an appropriate time). I get to see vendors I’ve known for five years (!!) and meet new vendors who are growing/making amazing things.

As the season progresses, I will learn our regular customers’ names. I’ll talk with people from all over the world—who have chosen to visit this place that I get to call home. I’ll see my cousins, my grandma, my parents.

Sometimes it will rain. Sometimes wind gusts will collapse my sandwich board with a slam and canisters will tumble from my display. Sometimes I’ll get cold standing in the shade of my tent—I’ll wish to be in the warm sun with the market shoppers. Sometimes my tent will be a cool haven for folks to escape the sun.

Always, we will have tea.

Our first Hood River farmers market for the season is coming up this Saturday, May 11th and I can’t wait to see you there!

Cheers,
Alexa