Every Saturday morning for almost a year Oliver and I have gone to the Charlottetown Farmer’s Market. And, being creatures of habit, we always take the same route through the building. Our first stop is always Kim Dormaar’s stall for smoked salmon on a bagel.
Oliver, being little, needs to be picked up to talk with Kim. After a while, as Oliver grew heavier, and the amount of snow and mud on him accumulated because of winter, it became hard to hold him up. His solution was to climb up on the stand of the potato seller at the next stall over, something I was tentative about because I had vague concerns about food safety and foot mud, and it sort of felt like trespassing.
So, most weeks, I would actively discourage Oliver from climbing up there, and reconcile myself to holding him up.
Four weeks ago, however, the friendly potato seller actually came out from behind their table and moved some bags of potatoes over so that there was space for Oliver to stand.
And last week, when Oliver was in Ontario, everyone, potato seller included, wanted to know where he was.
This is how it works here.