Old man winter finally roared his wintery old man face. This is the scene that greeted me as I awoke on the morning of January 21, 2012.

For months and months, my nervous anticipation of winter grew to utter delight as it seemed the blustery days would perhaps just not come. Being a San Diego native and a recent addition to the eastern seaboard, I was worried about moving out here. Nightmares of “East Coast Winters” and “Chilly Philly” dreaded my thoughts—but alas, for many moons it seemed that these mirages would in fact, stay mirages…until last Saturday.

But I was determine, even resolute, to attend the Lansdowne Farmer’s market. The LFM is definitely one of my very favorite reasons we chose to live in Lansdowne, and I would be darned if I would not support this winter edition. Although my husband was less than enthused to be awoken and dressed and dragged two blocks away on such a harsh winter day, we braved the biting wind and sluggish paths to reach our final destination. It seemed I was not the only one.

Worried that I would arrive to find the remains of a few vendors and their most ardent customers who had collectively decided that the weather was not worth the possible profits and had up and left, I instead found a good handful of tents and open trunks displaying their goods, with throngs of customers, mingling and enjoying the winter scene!

We did our usual wandering from vendor to vendor and I was sad to be informed that I had missed the brats from Green Aisle Grocery (if only we had bundled ourselves up earlier!) Mingling with other locals over at Bonnie’s we admired their invested selection of winter stems and surveyed the scene: the sights, the (imagined) smells, and of course, the people. Thank you again Lansdowne for a great production!

Love,

Lady Geilman

An observation by Pat Arone

The little boy sat on a hunk of concrete at the market. Close by, the father watched him.

Shoppers walked leisurely from one table to the other, greeting friends and neighbors, admiring the fruits and vegetables, and sampling from vendors who enticed them to buy their goods. A few smiled at the young boy, strawberry blond hair spilling over his face as he looked down, deep in concentration.

In one hand, he could barely wrap his fingers around the paper cup that once held a cold, refreshing lemonade. What now remained had yielded to the sun, leaving a watery lemon dilution and a few stubborn ice cubes that invited his other hand to reach in and take one out for closer examination.

He pulled his cherub-like fist out of the cup and carefully opened it, revealing the glistening cube, now sitting in a puddle in the center of his hand. For a few moments, he looked at it, tilting his head to get a better view.

Sun shining hot. Ice melting fast. Fascination now past. The little boy popped the small sliver of ice into his mouth.