10. How the Sausage Gets Made (an anxious rant)
Here’s the problem: I am having a difficult time choosing which farmer’s markets I want to commit to this season. First problem, they are all on the same days: Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays. Next and worst problem: I’m not feeling particularly confident in any of them. I know, I know, this is a horrible way to begin this part of actually making money on this venture, but I’ve been a farmers market manager, and I know too much: I have seen how that sausage gets made, and sometimes, it ain’t pretty. So when I see an application that asks “what products do you not produce that you will sell”, I get spooked. Why would a market want to invite vendors who don’t grow their own product? If you want re-sellers and whole-sellers, go to the grocery store, because they are no different. Farmer’s markets are just that: a market for farmers where small growers can have direct-to-consumer access, allowing them not only to truly get to know their customer, creating a community of local food, but also, the farmer actually gets paid for the work they do. It’s not a numbers game, as it is in wholesale or large commercial distribution. That’s why farmer’s market food is a little more expensive: it’s fresh, it’s local, and it’s priced correctly (because it’s not taking advantage of people, the way the food at supermarkets do—read up on the U.S. food system: it is appalling in its treatment of workers, and it is susceptible to major catastrophe , which I imagine will play out this season. Not trying to be a fear-monger, here, just reading the tea leaves).
And applications that don’t share how much it is to vend. Or ones that articulate how much it is to vend, but only if you vend on a certain day, and not the other day that’s also offered for vendors. And the “first-come, first-serve” vendor’s space business is bananas: by setting up competition even in something as seemingly innocuous as vendor tent placement, it’s going to create a nasty environment rather than one of cooperation and community. In short: YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG.
And then there’s the cost: I need liability insurance for my product (because, you know, it can kill people if it’s bad), the market supplies like tents, tables, signage, and packing materials for products, and then, finally, the market vendor fee, which I’m finding out, varies wildly: from $50 - $300 for a five month season.
My initial plan was to vend a couple times a week, with a big, urban market on Saturdays. But the “big urban markets” are grossing me out, too. There’s a good deal of competition and rhetorical nastiness in their marketing. For instance, there’s the Indianapolis Farmers Market, and then the Original Farmers Market at the Indianapolis City Market. C’mon, guys, there is enough to go around, and yes, it’s hard to educate consumers about what farmer’s markets are, what they’re for, why they are more expensive, why they don’t sell pineapple (yes, I’ve had people come to my previous market and wonder why we didn’t sell tropical fruit in KY…um, because it doesn’t grow in KY). Ugh! But surely, there is no need to actively compete with one another. Most buyers go to the one that’s most convenient, anyway. Certainly, if the market offers a unique experience, then a buyer will go to that one, so rather than relying on slick marketing tactics, maybe they can create a more positive vendor and buyer experience.
Whew! Okay, I’m ranted out. I need to start my day, anyway, since it’s going to rain this evening, and I need to seed more cover crop.
What’s that, you ask? Why, it’s a crop that’s planted to improve the soil and/or offer food for farm animals. I’m using it also to avoid mowing multiple acres. Here I come, crimson clover, to spread 15 pounds per acre, which I’m doing horribly at, by the way, because I’ve already gone through 200 pounds of it, and have not completed my intended swath, which is only 8 acres. But I’m using a crappy lawn seed spreader, which is not really ideal, but in my budget. So at the very least, since I’m over seeding, I’ll have a lush clover crop. Cool.
Alright, get moving, Megan. Hi-ho, Wiggles, away!