As mentioned before, Friday night was a late one. We returned from the 16 hour haul from Windsor, just north of San Francisco going all the way to just shy of the Canadian boarder (well, an hour’s drive, any way), arriving at 4:30 in the morning.
My boyfriend was very sweet and waited up for me, and while my adventure was absolutely amazing and perfect, as soon as I set food in the house I was overwhelmed with crabbiness. I felt exhaustion in every fiber of my bones and suddenly angry at my boyfriend for no reason at all. Thankfully I was able to keep that – for the most part – to myself, reminding myself that I was only angry because he happened to be there when the weight of the long day hit me. He did nothing wrong, no reason to be upset.
I was in bed by 5am, and furious at my alarm for making such loud noises. Did it not understand that people were sleeping???
I shook myself awake, realizing that it was 7, and I had wanted to leave by 7:15. Clearly that wasn’t going to happen. however, I did make it out by 7:30, though the grouchiness really took hold when I got to the truck only to see that it wasn’t emptied like it was supposed to be and like my boyfriend had told me it was. This was my first day at work, and I didn’t know what the stall gear entailed, but I knew that I needed a truck for it all. In a crazy rush I threw everything out and might have broken a small something, though I am pretty sure it’s fixable, and thankfully was already broken to begin with.
I hopping in the driver’s side.
Knowing I had to go to Bellingham, 20 miles away, I was left with no gas.
I’ll just leave that thought at that.
The closest gas station was 6 miles away, and not in the same direction as the farm I was going to. It was, however, next to a drive through coffee stand, so I could kill two birds with one stone.
As I pulled into the coffee stand, and before realizing the situation, I was locked into a line that was not moving. There were curbs on either side of me and a car behind me, two cars in front and two on the other side of the stand as well as a couple at the walk-up window.
I waited in that line, unable to get the truck out, for ten minutes. Ten Minutes!! I was certain I was going to be late on my first day, that I was going to prove to her that I was unreliable. I was responsible prior – I let her know that I was going out of town and that I would be back late on Friday, but I had promised her that I would be there at 8 am Saturday morning, bright, shiny, with smiles and bells. I couldn’t be late! I had to be early and dressed to impress!
I finally got through the coffee stand, put $10 in the gas tank and sped off down the road, crossing my fingers that there were no cops waiting to catch a speeder.
Thankfully – so thankfully – there weren’t. I even managed to make it to the farm 10 minutes early – do not ask me how!
The lady that was training me was late, which was fine since I was able to get everything loaded. She made sure I had all the right things before sending me off to Bellingham, telling me I would meet here there.
I had no idea where to set up – well, a vague idea. Three stalls down from the fairies – and yes, you did read that right, the fairies (delightful folk!). I went to what I thought might be it and began unloading. My trainer was nowhere to be found. everything was out of the truck, but I thought that perhaps I should express caution and just double check my placement.
Nope. Not that spot. It was 8:45 and all the vehicles had to be off the lot by 9. I threw everything back in the truck and tried to relocate. As I was coming through the market again, I spied my training lady, and she pointed me int he right direction.
Once the truck was parked elsewhere, the rest was as smooth as can be.
I started the day knowing only that I enjoyed the chevre, of which I had been given a sample of, and throughout the day was able to tell folks about the difference between our Gouda and raw cheddar, about how the Cinco De Mayo Gouda had a creamy, garlic flavor at first but ended with a friendly little kick at the end. I could explain that our Feta has 30% less salt than is normally used and most store bought Feta is actually from cow’s milk.
My trainer told me that we sold a ridiculous amount of cheese by the end of the day, that it was so much easier with two people than with one. She really liked me, which was great, because I had such an amazing time. I wish that I could work with her every time. She had a lot of energy, which gave me energy. I was bouncing around most of the day, just shoving toothpicks with cheese at people, telling them they had to try it.
It was a fantastic first day of the season for the Farmer’s Market, even though it was cold and did rain. And it was a fantastic first day for me. I’m worried that I won’t be able to keep up my energy, but I think that I’ll be able to be excited for the crowd. Also, the cold was keeping me energized as well. I kept hopping from foot to foot trying to keep warm. It wasn’t too bad. I might not do as well when it gets hot in the summer, but I’ll figure that part out as the time comes.
I think I have an official weekend job, and my training lady was so pleased with me that she wants to train me to do more on the farm as well, so I might be able to snag extra hours there as well.
It was a goaty weekend, and I hope that more goats will fill my world!