Coffee, Farmers Markets, and Slow Art

Over the past few weeks, I've begun frequenting a farmer's market in the area. I tote all the kids with me, and we go and buy the essentials: fruit and flowers, with the occasional loaf of bread or vegetable thrown in for good measure. I make the kids help me pick the produce and then hand the cash to the sellers and count their change.

Going to the farmer's market has quickly become one of my favorite parts of the week. I love the rich earthy scents of fresh produce. I love the vibrant colors. I love that we get to be outside while shopping. I love the educational experience for my kids as they learn what things cost and that they don't come packaged in plastic but maybe with a little dirt on them. I love that the sellers are gracious with our family as I maneuver the twins' stroller between parsnips and radishes and Bruiser tries to steal some of everything the second my back is turned to help Littles' with the money.

Most of all though, I love that it makes me slow down.

I told you that the Man and the kids gave me a french press coffee mug for Mother's Day--or maybe I didn't tell you, but the point is that they did. We've been doing Keurig coffee for the last year and a half, and while I appreciate that I can make a cup of coffee while juggling screaming twins, I've missed real coffee and I've missed the experience of brewing my own cup: slowly, methodically, with pride and care.

Anyone can jam a plastic cup into a machine and push a button--and there's no shame in that--there are seasons. But sometimes we forget that food (and coffee) is meant to be more than just a check mark along the way. Feeding ourselves, and I mean this in more than just a literal sense, is supposed to be art. And by nature, art must be purposeful. Art must be made with care. Art must be created in a culture of slowness.

I cannot slow down everything in my life. It's just not practical. But I can pick and choose the areas where I want to use a little more care. I still have the occasional mug of decaf that I didn't grind and brew by hand. I still do the bulk of our shopping at Costco and the commissary. Maybe one day I will have the time and money so that I don't have to.

But for right now, it's enough that I can take a little step towards purposefulness and slowing down and art and allow my family do so alongside me.

Smell this. Taste that. Look at these. I want those words to be in my family's lexicon. That only happens when I make the choice to slow and enjoy the bounty God has given, whether that be fresh ground coffee beans or a handful of lavender Tiny just paid 6 quarters for.