Just a wonderful morning

The sun was shining and the sky was an unreal blue.

The merchants had set up their tables up and down the village streets and were unloading them with veggies, cheese, meats, jewelry, clothes, olives, fruits, shoes and anything else that it is sold in a French marché.

I found a small gift for a friend, then stopped at my favourite spice/herb table for rosemary and thyme. He made me roll my "r" and I told him as a Bostonian I never used an "r".

White asparagus was for sale, enough for three meals for just 2 Euros. I gave in.

I stopped at the Algerian artist's. He had mended my obligatory French intellectual black leather coat. He offered me a coffee and we sat amid his paintings and chatted about the creative process.

My next stop was ma copine's shop. Another copine was there and we chatted about her heart attack and our lives in general.

I agreed to watch the shop while they went to buy bread, and gave in to Joel's olives, black this time. He has so many varieties.

My last stop was for bananas and cherry tomato's at Jean-Pierre's and Babette's. She's using a cane since her foot was operated on. J-P was busy picking out veggies for a man outside the shop in a wheelchair, and then J-P packed them into his sack.

Just one of those days that make life a gift.