The Brimson Market

Brimson is not a town, or a gas station, or a street, or anything like that. It must be a geographically defined area - that's all I can figure. It's where I live in the summer. Actually, I live in Fairbanks, but that doesn't exist at all anymore. Someone even came along and sawed off the road signs. That made me both sad and mad. I used to be able to give people directions by saying, I'm the first driveway after the Fairbanks sign. No more. Now I have to get all involved with the Bundle Lake Road and Pauline's Bait Shop. It's much more complicated.
Brimson has a market, a farmer's market and the farmer is Diane. I think the market is about four years old now but I discovered it two years ago. I knew about it the previous summer, but never got up on Saturday mornings to get over there. There is this area off highway 44 where there are two garages. One is for the fire truck and ambulance and where the post office is located. The other garage is a mystery to me - although it's where I purchased "My Beauty" - see story below (Going Green In White). The land just in front of the garages is where we have the market.
Yes, I am now a participant in the Brimson Market. See, last year on my way to Minneapolis, I happened to go right past the market and stopped. I bought some cranberry scones for Susie and Gary and something about the set-up made me want to be a part of the whole thing. I asked if there was anything I needed to do and the answer was, "No, just come on over." The scones were a huge hit. "Best I ever ate," said Gary.
You probably have an idea in your mind of what this Brimson Market must be like. First of all, whatever your idea is, make it smaller. Now smaller. And finally, think tiny. The Market is Diane, Sherry, Jan, Pam, me, Joy this year, and sometimes Lisat (I think that's her name). Other people will come, but they don't come back. Not that I've noticed anyway.
Diane, as I said, is the actual farmer. Lettuce, garlic, squash, greens of all kinds, cucumbers (OK, those are Mike's), and tomatoes sell out in a flash. She also makes pesto - boy was that yummy.
Sherry sells the scones and home made bread. I've never actually seen the bread, because the first two or three people who show up buy it all. She also makes and sells note cards with photographs of local flowers. They're so pretty. Her latest venture is caps made of hand made felt.
Jan is seventy-eight, I believe. Short, but a real fire cracker. Every week, the same purple, fur lined, galoshes. She sells plants mostly, but also odds and ends and "antiques". She has large gardens on her property which I think are filled with plants and flowers. Her peonies this year were spectacular.
Pam knows all about herbs and uses for local plants which she makes into salves and ointments which she sells. I think she also conducts classes. There were some young people who I think were staying with her this summer and learning.
Joy is new this year. She's a summer resident (Diane, Sherry, and Pam are year-rounders), from Washington D.C. and she makes jewelry. I don't even wear jewelry, but I couldn't resist one of her necklaces. She also remembers playing cards at the cabin because her parents were friends of my parents.
Lisat makes quick breads (green tomato and zucchini) and Italian wedding cookies that are to die for. She also makes baby quilts and sells fabrics and the cookbook from Pequan Lake where she lives. It's over twenty miles away so we don't see her every Saturday.
Then there's me. What could I make that would sell at this market? The only thing that is originally mine is a variation of an oatmeal cookie recipe from The Joy of Cooking. I add a bunch of spices, so mine are oatmeal spice cookies. This year I also thought I invented chocolate brownie cookies, until Don told me he saw them on sale at Cub's. I was mad. The big seller this year though? Biscotti.
The wonderful thing about the market is just being there. Spending time during the week making the cookies, but then getting up early Saturday morning, loading everything in the car, including Mom's old bridge table, and seeing these people who have become so special to me. It's also fun to think about the people who have bought my cookies. Did they like them? This year one lady came back and said she had an order from her husband for more cookies. That made me so happy. The whole experience makes me happy.