Today I went shopping for groceries at my neighbourhood market. The market is kind of funny, because it's become very posh, with high prices, tens of delicatessen stalls and costumers that consider it a social scene in its own right.
Luckily, not all of it has undergone this upgrading, so shopping there can still be a very pleasant experience. Perhaps my favourite part of it would be the flower stall on the sidewalk just outside of the market. It's run by an elderly lady and her mother, and it consists of an assortment of plastic buckets full of flowers, over which a threadbare parasol casts a protective shadow. There are also two plastic chairs placed in front of the stall, from which the mistresses run the bussiness and survey the passers-by.
Today I decided I'd buy some flowers, so I paid the flower ladies a little visit. As I was standing there, I saw something that I found very pretty; a father, carrying his toddler daughter, stopped by and bought her a beautiful red rose. And I think there was some telepathic exchange between the mistress and myself, because just as I was giving her the money and about to head for the car, she smiled and slipped another red rose into my bouquet.
Luckily, not all of it has undergone this upgrading, so shopping there can still be a very pleasant experience. Perhaps my favourite part of it would be the flower stall on the sidewalk just outside of the market. It's run by an elderly lady and her mother, and it consists of an assortment of plastic buckets full of flowers, over which a threadbare parasol casts a protective shadow. There are also two plastic chairs placed in front of the stall, from which the mistresses run the bussiness and survey the passers-by.
Today I decided I'd buy some flowers, so I paid the flower ladies a little visit. As I was standing there, I saw something that I found very pretty; a father, carrying his toddler daughter, stopped by and bought her a beautiful red rose. And I think there was some telepathic exchange between the mistress and myself, because just as I was giving her the money and about to head for the car, she smiled and slipped another red rose into my bouquet.
PS I know this probably makes me sound like a freak, but I really am still sad about Paul Newman...
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