We have a regularly scheduled engagement bright and early every Saturday morning. We show up at the Barossa Farmers Market when the doors open at 7:30 a.m.
It’s held in and around a huge tin barn in the middle of the vineyards about a mile down the main road from our cottage. It seems like everyone in the Barossa shows up, including all the local restauranteurs who come to buy fresh produce.
Jamie loves to roam the aisles buying fresh milk with a thick layer of cream on top (takes me back to my days on the dairy), fruits, vegetables, and hummus (she’s on her own with that one). While she roams the various stalls sweet-talking all the vendors, I sit on a bench eating fresh cinnamon rolls and people watching.
We each have our role in life and I understand mine.