This thyme feels like more than *just* thyme to me.
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I bought it, along with some cabbages and brussels, from a lady who grows and sells her veg at the tiny local market here in Pontassieve.
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We’ve been in this town almost a year and in that time we’ve come to know (and love) the farmers from whom we buy our meat, eggs and dairy.
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Vegetables have been the last part of our food shopping without a face. By that I mean, up until now, I’ve mostly not known the person who grew them. Finally, this month, I had the head space to make an attempt to change that.
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Thursday evenings will host our ‘walk together to the market and get veg’ routine. I hope that we’ll get to know (and love) the small producers there, including the lady who picked and dried this wild thyme.
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If so, it’d feel to me like we’d settled. We’d be part of the precious fabric of this land. We’d sustain and be sustained by the beauty, knowledge and effort of this community.
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And I’d be able to breathe out.