With yesterday’s opening of the Salem Farmers’ Market, Salem Main Streets has revived a Salem, Massachusetts tradition, dating back to 1634. The Old Town Hall in Derby Square, behind Artists Row, was formerly known as the Market House.  It is the site of both the original and the new market, which encircles the stately 1816 Federal Style building (credited in part to both Charles Bulfinch and Samuel McIntire). The historic venue in downtown Salem is an ideal showcase for local food and handiworks, all within walking distance of Essex and Front Street retail and cultural attractions.

The launch of the event drew a bustling crowd eager to enjoy community fare and the first sunshine in days. Live acoustic music by Qwill and the duo of Emily Russo and Will Faust added a festive air. I overheard one proud Salem participant say to his companion, “Look at this! Eat our dust Marblehead.” There’s nothing like a little, friendly, town rivalry.

The Clark Farm stand was especially popular. Folks lined up in droves for heirloom tomatoes, baskets of strawberries, and bundles of lettuce, among other produce. If your taste leans more toward the sea than the farm, there was something there for you too: fresh seafood from A & J Lobsters and Rowand's Fisheries. Hand made soaps, scarves, and pottery added some artistry to the scene.

Don’t worry if you missed the opening day, the event will be held every Thursday from 4-7 p.m. through October 29, 2009. It’s a great and apt asset for Salem. Drop in on the Salem Arts Association gallery, the Peabody Essex Museum, and Cinema Salem gallery en route.

by Katie Hutchison for House Enthusiast

ArchitectureBoston just published an issue about neighborhood, which got me thinking. Sure it’s the twenty-first century, but our neighborhood is in an eighteenth century Salem condominium building. It’s a four-unit Georgian that was once an approximately 4,600 square-foot single-family home for a successful sea captain. Since the house is symmetrical with a center stair hall, it divided rather neatly into separate, eminently livable units in the ‘80s. My husband and I occupy one of the upper quadrants on the second and third floors. We share horse-hair plaster walls, wide-pine floors, twisting balusters and pride of place with our neighbors in the building.

Together we plan the building’s future, and, in the process, intertwine our destinies. We’ve orchestrated innumerable maintenance projects to repair or replace: the foundation sills, the siding, the trim, the roof, and the chimney, to name a few. At times, project planning and funding have become contentious as individual budgets tighten due to life events and fluctuating economies. Yet, over seven years of ad hoc condominium meetings, we’ve all managed to make accommodations for the better of the building, the group, and, thus, ourselves. We informally take turns bringing trash to the curb, cleaning the entry hall, tending to the garden, and looking after each other’s house plants or cats. We’ve even started sharing dinner get-togethers in which condominium business isn’t on the agenda. We’ve forged our own neighborhood of four households.

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