The new job!

Madison.

Today was my first day at my second job, working a stall at the local farmers' markets. Kay and Paul at JenEhr Family Farm have put me to work on the occasional Saturday to help sell their organic produce and pasture-raised chickens. Normally I'll end up at the DCFM, on the square, which is my default market. I know a lot of the vendors there, and it's as much a social trip as it is a shopping trip. I also make it a point to go early, before the crowds arrive, because it fills with tourists as the day wears on.

Today, though, it was raining, and Kay called shortly past five a.m. to ask if I wouldn't mind working at the Westside Community Market instead. On rainy days, they have a much tougher time selling on the square, and the Westside is usually more profitable, anyway. So I drove over to the DMV building - the market's in their parking lot - and spent the morning with Paul and Sarah. Despite the off-and-on rain, we kept pretty busy.

I think.

I have no baseline for that assumption, but figure that since we sold virtually everything, it must've been a pretty good day. I'm most impressed that we managed to sell eighty pounds of rhubarb, and mostly in one- and two-pound increments. All of the spinach went, as did the mizuna, lettuce and rainbow chard. Paul even emptied out a CSA box he'd had in the van, selling off every little bit in it. Even the giant red mustard, with its perforated leaves. They've got flea beetles in the hoophouse, and they're going for the mustard.

I've heard that you can use the giant mustard varieties as traps for those insects, but that only works well if you're not trying to sell them. They're still perfectly edible, of course. Just a little less cosmetic. Unfortunately, that means he's got no ideas on how to keep the flea beetles at bay. (And, it seems, neither do any of the other farmers in the area.) They were some of the most egregious offenders in last year's garden, devouring the eggplant leaves, and noshing on some of the other plants, too. They're tiny and quick-jumping, hard to catch and hard to squash. I only wonder what they'll devour this year.

The market seemed like a nice setup. Since I was comfortable staying dry beneath our tent, and knew that Sharon was shopping at the other market, I didn't really explore. It was like every new job: not wanting to make a mistake, focusing on the task at hand, unused to the rhythm of the day, I stuck to what I'd been doing and lost track of time. It meant I didn't realize how hungry I was until I got home.

This is a pattern that I've noticed I fall into at the start of any new job. Wanting to make a good first impression, I make every effort to succeed at the tasks given to me, but lose focus on other, normal aspects of my day. Usually, someone'll ask if I need to eat lunch, or use the bathroom, or something else that I've neglected to do. One of these days, my new boss will ask, "Shouldn't you be breathing? You're allowed to do that, you know." And I'll suddenly realize, in my asphyxiated state, that I've unwittingly overridden my basic brainstem functions, and start breathing again.

I've also noticed recently - this not having come up at the market - that I'm good about avoiding swearing in in appropriate places, like work. I almost never do, except under my breath. Yet, when I do, no one seems surprised. Yet when others do the same thing, people seem shocked. Is it just that I don't notice I'm swearing like a longshoreman, or what?

People also seem to assume - and rightly so - that I'm a leftist, strongly opposed to the Bush administration. I don't know why, but I'm okay with it.