The Fremont Sunday Market

Every Sunday we put on a little show.


Every week our schedule revolves around the three days solely devoted to Sunday Market.  Saturday mornings start out as a normal work day, photography, research, and writing ads for the on line sales business.  After Tito's eleven-thirty walk and a light lunch / social media zone out, it's time to get started on the load for Sunday Market.

Throughout the week Mary Jane has sorted the stuff purchased for resale according the potential retail value.  Higher end items go into the on line sales list where it will be photographed and listed on eBay and Etsy. The rest of the inventory is earmarked for Fremont. "Take it down," as Mary Jane says when she decides something isn't likely to fetch a reasonable price on line.

The pile of FSM junk gets processed first thing Saturday afternoon.  Garage sale price stickers removed, minor fixes with spare lamp parts or Howard Restore a Finish, attaching our retail prices, packing things into boxes and loading the truck.  By four thirty or five the truck is loaded and ready.

Always an early riser, I have ended up finding a comfortable schedule for Sundays that starts  at one twenty-five in the early.  Year or so ago I started wearing support socks on days when I have to be on my feet.  The damned things take ten minutes to put on, which bumped my time from thirty-five back to twenty-five.  Timer on the coffee pot greets me with fresh hot brew.  Coffee and quiet, followed with high protean breakfast, loud classical music in the earphones get me in the right mood to tackle  I-5 and the city yet one more time.

Like to roll into the Hypermarket, aka dusty parking garage below the Red Door Pub in Fremont by a quarter after four.  By the time Mary Jane gets there at seven thirty or eight, I have set up the space, tables and shelves, lighting and backdrop, got a start on setting the stock out for customer inspection.

While she gets started on her part of the set-up I get a break.  Head across the street to the coop for a little mid morning snack.  Most enjoyed meal of the week.  For a long time I had a fresh baked croissant, buttery crisp and dripping with marzipan filling, eight ounce triple shot Americanó with room.

Later changed to a couple fresh scones every Sunday.  Less messy to eat, the deliciously flaky croissants and drippy filling usually went all  over my shirt.  Besides the scones are more healthy.  Sure almond is an elixir of vitality, even as marzipan, but the scones have things like oats and dried fruits. Two of them each week didn't seem extravagant.

A sketchy blood cholesterol count last year and the knowledge that each scone has a huge dollop of butter prompted me to change the breakfast menu.  Now it's oatmeal mixed with  brown rice topped with a single spoon of brown sugar and dried berries.  Lost ten pounds.

Between ten thirty and eleven I get to go down to where the van is parked, stretch out in the back with the phone timer set for twenty minutes.  Deep sleep power nap helps me get through the long days; sometimes get a second nap around three in the afternoon as well.

The money part of the day, reason for the entire movie, customers filtering through the shop making the odd purchase, happens between elevenish and closing time at five.  Usually this part of the day zips past in a manic buzz.  Lots of people with a wide variety of energies swirling through the room.  Before one realizes the day has slipped away it is time put everything back in the boxes, tear down the set and load the van for home.

Two and a half, sometimes three hours to fold it all back into the van, then over to pcc to wash hands and pick up something to eat during the drive home.  Sandwich and apple, Theo 45% and a bag of sea salt chips usually sounds good.  Helps the hour and ten minute scrum on the freeway pass without my eye lids snapping shut permanently somewhere along the way.

Monday morning we have a ritual, coffee and conversation in bed, sometimes having as much as an hour's quiet revery before time to get the days winnings in the market to the bank at opining time. 

Even with the power nap, fifteen hours makes for a long day.  Hard work physically to be sure, but there is also the high level of energy one has to muster in order to put on the show.  Our customers  come into the market looking for entertainment as much as some little trinket or treasure we may be presenting for sale that day.

I may not have turned out to be a theist, but find myself in the same business as my father.  As a small town church preacher during the years that I was growing up, he went to a place every Sunday where people gave him money for putting on a little show.  Mary Jane and I do the same thing.