I walked out my apartment door, straight down the street, and took a left to be reunited with the congregation of farmers, crafters, and makers selling their things with fiddles and banjos harmonizing in the background.  Without hesitation I resumed my old routine: beelining it straight for the locally made, honey sweetened,  fresh squeezed lemonade - still just as good as I remembered.  I think it's pretty impossible to be in the midst of a sweet local market without feeling uplifted and lightened in some way and  Montpelier's Saturday farmer's market is undoubtedly one of the best things about this little town.