Carrboro Farmers' Market

I love a farmers' markets. For me, the perfect Saturday morning involves a trip to pick up seasonal veggies, freshly baked bread, and perhaps some artisanal cheese or pasture grazed meat. I'm one of those people who will brave freezing temperatures and pouring rain to support my favorite farmers. Everywhere I've lived -- New York City, Bonn, or Raleigh -- finding a market is part of what makes the location feel like home.

In Raleigh we have frequented Raleigh's NC State market. The market is quite nice with a covered pavilion and adjacent building with additional vendors selling local and regional goods. Yet it lacks a community feeling.

Set apart from a neighborhood the market attracts people from all over the city. This is good for the farmers, but leaves the market without a distinct identity. Also, with the exception of a few vendors -- including a German baker and an Irish guy who sells exceptionally good butter lettuce -- most of the vendors here sell exactly the same stuff. There is always an abundance of kale, collards, and sweet potatoes, but I have yet to see many specialty items indicative of many small farmers I have seem in the past.

Wondering what other markets are like in the region, this week I decided to try something different. The Carrboro farmers markets, located on 301 West Main Street in Carrboro, is one of the regions best know. Open year round, it has been in operation for thirty years.

To support this longevity, the markets must be fiercely supported. Walking through the field and small pole barn next to the Carrboro town hall that makes up its home that community was prevalent. There was lots of interaction between the farmers and their customers, many of whom greeted each other like old friends.

Also, I was impressed with the variety of produce, meats, baked goods, and cheeses offered. Among the items I purchased were fresh garlic, spinaches, andouille sausage, and whole wheat bread. Everything was exceptionally good.

Though it may be too far of a drive for every week, I am looking forward to visiting the Carrboro markets again. Once the spring and summer crops start to come in I am sure there will be lots of wonderful treats.

Vermiculture Shock

One thing that I loved about Bonn was the city-run composting program. We simply sorted our biodegradable items, called "biomüll," into a small garbage can and then put into the building's green trash bin. It didn't take long for me to realize how much less garbage we produce when we were compositing.

Upon return to the states I knew I didn't want to go back to my old ways. Throwing away all of those vegetable peelings, egg shells, and coffee grinds really seemed like a waste. That's why I decided to set up a worm box.

The project was easy. All it took was a large plastic bin, a pound of worms, and some newspaper. I drilled holes into the top, sides, and bottom of the bin to allow air in and excess liquid out. I placed the bin on one-inch blocks, allowing for circulation around the bottom of the container.

I had read that I should be able to find the worms at either a garden center or bait and tackle shop. However, my local garden center doesn't carry worms and I have no idea were a bait shop is. Instead, I ordered a pound of the "composter's blend" from Blue Ridge Vermiculture, which was made up of half red worms and half European night crawlers.

The company sent an e-mail when my worms were shipped, so I knew to keep an eye out for them. The worms arrived in a USPS flat rate box labeled "LIVE WORMS DO NOT FREEZE." (I wonder what my postman thinks of me now.)

To create bedding for the worms, I shredded some newspaper, moistened it, and placed it in the container. To that I added the compostable material that I had collected the previous week. Now, I just have to sit back and wait for my worms to turn what we would have thrown away into rich, dark soil that I can use for my plants.

B-Ball: The Game's the Same, What About the Crowd

On Sunday night Kevin and I took the baby to a college basketball game. The University of Maryland's team was in town playing NC State. Since Kevin's favorite team is the Maryland Terrapins, he was super excited to get tickets to the game thanks to one of his friend's parents, who are season ticket holders. (When Kevin asked his friend what he could do to thank them, he was told, "Just don't cheer for the Terrapins too loudly.")
While I Germany we attended a number of sporting events, including one basketball game. Even though the game itself was the same, the European events had a very different feel to their American counterparts. Here are some of the major differences:

• German fans loves drums. Every game we attended included a marinade of thumps and bangs from drums of all types. In North Carolina, there was the college band, but the horns were the instruments that played a dominant roll in their sound.
• In Germany, everyone -- no matter his or her age -- drank beer. Here, because it was a college game, no beer was served. (I have to admit that I'll miss the guys with the backpack kegs walking through the crowds.)
• What drinks there were to consume at the American arena were served in disposable cups. In Germany you paid a deposit on a reusable plastic cup.
• The condiments here are dispensed in individual-size packages. In Germany, there was the condiment utter.
  
• During half time in Germany, the halls were filled with smokers. Even though North Carolina is one of the most lenient states when it comes to smoking bans, no one was lighting up in the arena.