However, I consider making bad jokes part of my schtick, therefore I will post them across the top of my blog decrying my lack of cleverness like a flashing neon sign of some sort. Yes. I feel that is an effective way of describing my personality.
Another significant part of my personality (hello, bad transition) is what my father often calls the 'wandering soul'. It sounds like it has something to do with travel to foreign lands, falafel, and singing bob dylan songs on a park bench, but really it just means I have a strange and altogether inconvenient affinity for getting lost in an unfamiliar town.
As it turns out, life in Springfield is pretty rough for the wandering soul. This is because one can wander for quite some time and find absolutely nothing worth finding. Occasionally I'll get lucky and come across a group of old men playing classic rock tunes in a nondescript bar. But even this sort of cultural experience is unlikely.
Enter my two weeks in Iowa City. Now, as a non-believer, which I'm sure you are, you might ask, "But what is there to do in Iowa City?" And I don't blame you for being uncertain. I've been there myself. But now, with one week of residence here under my belt, I can confidently say, "There is a lot to do in Iowa City." Or, more accurately, "There is much more to do in Iowa City than there is in Springfield." Which is absolutely the truth.
Case in point. Today, my 'wandering senses', if you will, were tingling in a way that was not to be ignored. So as part of my project here at the camp, I set out walking through the downtown area, looking for something, although I wasn't yet sure what it was I was looking for. If you've ever looked for something without knowing what it was, you will know that it's a difficult task.
However, I did manage to stumble across my unknown destination in a relatively short amount of time, although it was a solid 5 or 6 blocks from my starting point and even farther from my rooms, which I had to get back to eventually. As a wanderer, I've learned to walk quickly. What I found was a blocked off street and a parking garage which housed a farmer's market bigger than any I've seen back home.
Suffice it to say that I was very excited.
The whole 'homegrown and locally operated' movement is big where I'm from, but somehow these sorts of operations are few and far between. This makes for very small farmer's markets. And not a lot of choices in zucchini. This little parking garage, however, had meats and vegetables and flowers and handmade, one-of-a-kind beaded jewelry. I saw fresh pies and cookies and little bibs with various cute fabric patterns and even a lady selling stained glass that had a photo of your choice in the middle. As in, a picture of my face could be mounted in my home in all of its stained-glass glory. It seemed somewhat blasphemous, what with the clear religious background of such a craft, but don't think I didn't consider it. If only for a moment.
I did manage to buy this fabulous cupcake (wedding cake white with an unreasonable amount of buttercream frosting piled on top) and a cup of iced chai, which was made all the better because the heat index today must be at least 100. At least. I commandeered a shady park bench on which to dine and listened to an adorable older couple playing classic blues nearby. They were quite good. I was entertained.
Moral of the story: I urge anyone with a farmer's market in their town to check it out, even if it's as lame as mine and fits in the small back parking lot of the local fitness center. It's probable that there's at least one person living nearby who doesn't suck at baking, or growing things, or immortalizing your face in colored glass. And even if everyone within a 50 mile radius of your home is without any talent whatsoever, the culture at these things is amazing, really. People talk to each other and bond over shared interests and hobbies in a way that would be possible almost nowhere else. It really is a community experience that some people (especially those living in more metropolitan areas) don't often get.
Plus, the cupcakes are sinfully good. Really. There should be a confession booth right next to this woman's stand.
That was also highly blasphemous. I should stop this before I do any more damage.
--Cait
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