Last tuesday was one of the coldest days of the new year for San Marcos, Texas. Still, the local Farmers Market went on like it does every week. There were only six or seven vendors, it seemed they were the few and the faithful to thier products. I could see hope in their eyes when my partner and I approached, eager to see customers. There was a beautiful assortment of vegetables and breads, cookies and fruit. I listened as my partner chatted with a woman from Wimberley. She rubbed her hands together as she described the difficulty of staying out in the cold. She was a curious sort of woman and her thick southern accent made 
me listen closely to what she was saying. She tried hard to sell her products, encouraging me to try samples and I decided to buy jalepeno bread from her. She was gracious and bobbed her pink head appreciation. I made my way to the other tables and stopped at one that was also selling sweet breads and cookies. He asked me what brought me to the Farmers Market on such a cold day and I described the class assignment. He talked about the weather too and told me how unprepared he was for the cold day. He looked misreable in a thin leather biker jacket and red bandana. Anxious for company, he told me the story of why he was at the Farmers Market. He said that he
made all of his goodies himself, and he was very proud of being a male cook. I could tell he had bargained before when he bribed me into buying his bread by saying he would give me free cookies. It was an offer I couldn't refuse. I wanted to give all of them some money for working on such unpleasant terms. I had never been to a Farmers Market before and had no idea what to expect. But what I found was that even on such a cold and bitter day I was surrounded by hard-working, warm people.
me listen closely to what she was saying. She tried hard to sell her products, encouraging me to try samples and I decided to buy jalepeno bread from her. She was gracious and bobbed her pink head appreciation. I made my way to the other tables and stopped at one that was also selling sweet breads and cookies. He asked me what brought me to the Farmers Market on such a cold day and I described the class assignment. He talked about the weather too and told me how unprepared he was for the cold day. He looked misreable in a thin leather biker jacket and red bandana. Anxious for company, he told me the story of why he was at the Farmers Market. He said that he
made all of his goodies himself, and he was very proud of being a male cook. I could tell he had bargained before when he bribed me into buying his bread by saying he would give me free cookies. It was an offer I couldn't refuse. I wanted to give all of them some money for working on such unpleasant terms. I had never been to a Farmers Market before and had no idea what to expect. But what I found was that even on such a cold and bitter day I was surrounded by hard-working, warm people.
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