Saga of the "Crazy" Carrots
Check Out These Carrots!
They're different, aren't they? My friend Kevin got them at the farmers' market downtown last week. (Revise that to two weeks ago. This story is taking longer than anticipated.) They weren't for sale; they were for barter only. Kevin wanted these badly, so he looked in his backpack for something to barter. He had some over-the-counter pills for cold symptoms, but the man who had the carrots wasn't interested in those. He said he'd just gotten over a cold and was now fine.
Kevin rummaged around and came up with a CD that he'd made on cell division. He asked the man whether he might be interested in that. The gentleman accepted the CD as a trade for the carrots, and presumably everyone was happy. I know I was quite happy to take a portrait shot of these carrots that appear to be embracing. They are embracing, aren't they? Gee!
Strike One!
I went to the market today. (Change that to last week.) I'd been looking forward to this event since I'd seen Kevin's carrots, which happened to be Halloween; very fitting day to bring home such an oddity. I'd been told which section this farmer's spot was. I went directly there, but saw no freaky-looking carrots. I asked the young man whose space it was if he knew who had the barter-only carrots.
Daniel Price, of Freedom, Maine (what a great name for a town), stated he was the person with those carrots, but he didn't have any with him because he hadn't packed the truck for the market. I expressed my disappointment and told him I'd come prepared to barter. He was curious to see what I'd brought with me, so I showed him. He liked the print of "my" skunk and we decided that he could keep that and I'd come back the following week to pick up my carrot. He said he'd try to find a very unusual looking one for me.
Dan's dog Abbey accompanies him on his outings. Abbey is an eight-year-old mixed breed, really sweet and well behaved. The dog is wearing a bandanna and I have a weakness for dogs wearing such things. Too bad I couldn't get a nice head-on shot with the kerchief. You can see that bit of orange, so you know I'm telling the truth. What a big, fuzzy animal! And what a wonderful expression in its eyes.
As we were chatting, a handsome young man came over. He began to look over the produce to make some choices. And he knew my name, which mystified me. He said "Everybody knows Marge!" Really?
He told me his name when I asked him, but said that he didn't want to be identified on my blog. So I'm acceding to his wishes. From this photo, you wouldn't be able to tell who he is and I won't divulge his name, nor will I tell you which newspaper he works for as a reporter. It's too bad that you can't see how good looking he is. He lives in my neighborhood and we know some of the same people, so I told him to come and visit me. I said "I don't drink beer, but I keep some in the refrigerator for friends that stop by."
Isn't this a neat sign? And it's so happy! Freedom Farm is owned by Dan Price and his partner Ginger. They started the organic farm three years ago and Dan had been working on farms for five years prior to that. He loves farming. He comes to both farmers' markets in Portland, the one on Wednesdays at Monument Square, where I met him, and the one held Saturdays in Deering Oaks. The farm also participates in markets in Belfast and Bar Harbor.
I was on a mission, and I'd come prepared to barter. I brought things I created: a stone necklace from my days of making sea glass jewelry; and a print of the skunk I became so fond of who shared my garden this summer. I'd come to think of him as Mister TinyToes.
Price chose the picture of the skunk. For some reason, I thought he'd like that, which is why I brought it with me. But then I made the mistake of saying, "The skunk, the farmer's friend." He seemed a bit horrified and said, "Oh, no! They kill chickens!" Oops! I'd read about all of the bad bugs they eat, not the naughtiness they were involved with. Of course I was coming from a pro-skunk bias also. He straightened out my thinking very quickly.
We then got into a discussion about how and why the bartering of "crazy" carrots began. Price told me that in the bunching process, they had been discarding lots of good carrots because of their appearance. These anomalies are natural occurrences. He said "We don't get paid for our time as farmers. It's a two-person job for four hours to bunch carrots, so we don't want to put a monetary value on it." And so began the bartering aspect of the produce stand, the summer before last.
Price said many customers aren't aware of the sign. The interest "ebbs and flows. We've accepted lots of crummy things." Some of the items in the "crummy" category were dental floss, a battery, and a half-eaten granola bar. There have also been some wonderful trades conducted: a foot massage, a lovely watercolor of carrots and parsnips, which was shown to me, and Price said that one woman wrote a song and performed it. She chose her carrot, and said she'd return the following week with the song and performance. She delivered everything she'd promised.
When I asked what the strangest barter item received was, Price ran to his truck and came back with this little trinket. It would be interesting to know the story behind how and why this chicken bone came to be decorated in this manner.
Strike Two!
I went back to the market on November 14, with high anticipation of seeing some crazy carrots and returning home with one of my own. Farmer Price was there, his produce looking inviting.
Abbey was there, wearing the same bandanna, and this time I was able to get a good shot of the scarf.
Although the produce was luscious in appearance, I was only interested in getting my carrot trade, and possibly seeing an assortment of these mutants, which I could photograph.
But I struck out for the second time. Dan said he'd been in New York until late the night before and Ginger had packed the truck. He apologized and said that he'd neglected to tell her to pack some crazy carrots. Oops!
I wasn't interested in the squash. It wasn't "crazy." I wasn't interested in the potatoes. They weren't "crazy" either. Price did offer me a distorted parsnip, to tide me over, but I wanted none of that. My mission was to secure a crazy carrot and nothing less than that would satisfy me.
My next opportunity would be Saturday, at Deering Oaks. It's marked on my calendar and I'll be there.
I happened to be at the market when the official Christmas tree for Portland arrived at Monument Square. I was able to see it unloaded from the giant flatbed trailer and watch its installation.
That made the trip worthwhile because I got pictures of the event.
A Triple! (Or Triplets)
Saturday was a beautiful sunny day, after two solid days of heavy rain and gray miserable weather. Once again I was excited about the prospect of getting my very own crazy carrots. I got to Deering Oaks around 8:30. As I began walking toward the center of the park, there was a young woman almost next to me. We began talking and she said she was a "foodie" and she had a food blog; she and her husband had been eating just locally grown food since July. She said they've recently added olive oil back to their menu because they missed it and it's hard to find a replacement. Amen!
When I asked her name she said it was Alison LePage, and I wrote down the address of her Web site. I gave her a card with mine on it. She was familiar with Freedom Farm, knew about the crazy carrots, and bought produce from Dan Price on a regular basis.
Dan was there and so were the crazy carrots. I asked permission to remove the box with the carrots from the table to take some photos of them in the shade. Permission was granted.
Every time I look at this carrot above, I think: "It's a boy!"
This one I've titled "carrot orgy" in my photo folder. Yes?
When I brought the crate back, Alison was making a purchase and we walked back to our cars together. I'd taken one carrot and was thrilled to have this saga coming to an end.
Right by the parking area, Dan came running and calling my name. He said "Don't you want these?" I told him I had a carrot, but he said in order to repay me for my patience and fortitude, he wanted me to have three different crazies to bring home. That was awfully sweet of him, and he ran quite a distance to catch up with us.
I asked Alison if she'd like to bring one of my carrots home, since I had more than enough, and she was quite happy to be able to add it to her other vegetables. We parted company, saying we'd link to each other's Web sites.
I hope Alison LePage's carrot tasted as delicious as mine. And I'm certain it did.
