We needed veggies and Tuesdays is our local farmer's market. At one time the people who own the farm delivered an assortment of veggies to the house, but with our travel schedule it wasn't practical. Too much waste.
The market sets up in the middle of our village. At one time in that location were Roman villas, but they were long ago replaced by a medieval church and a small plaza.
The temperature was perfect, 19°C/66°F with blue skies.
Glory! Glory! They had corn on the cob, still unshucked, a rarity in Europe. Corn was considered only for cows when I first lived here.
So nice to walk down the stand and decide on all the fresh greens, tomatoes (several kinds), broccoli, carrots, an apple or two, peaches and a cantaloupe. Each week, I forget something, and today it was an avocado.
There's always warm greetings between the owner, staff and me. When we've been away, we're welcomed back.
Today there was a new stand with jars of veggies in sauces, nuts, and pastas. The man sitting there and I chatted. He was Italian, but had grown up in Switzerland. The products were family made. For years he'd been an engineer, but he hated being tied to the routine, so he quit for a life. He told me. the sauces and pastas were part of that life. He didn't do a marché every day, because that would limit his life. He had enough of what he needed. He also said what was more important to him was the human contact.
We started in French and went to English with overtones of Franglais. His English was self taught.
I bought some nuts for a salad I'm planning tomorrow and some aubergine soup for tonight.
During this transaction, Rick and Sherlock had found one of the tables from the man who sold cookies, teas, etc. Most Tuesdays we are on the way to our Free Write and don't have time to linger over cuppas, although we do buy his cookies made by a local baker. There was time for a bit of a chat.
The Swiss, cantonal and village flags flew above us. A few clouds decided to occupy the blue, blue sky.
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