I was up bright and early today, actually yesterday, considering that it is about two a.m. Sunday morning and I am only getting to attack my blog now. I had one thing on my mind Saturday morning and if you read my post a week ago you might guess that it was Spinach and you would get full marks for that response! I was determined to make it to the market before Frau X grabbed the green jewels from before my very eyes, within inches of my grasp, without fear, without hesitation.
So, with Spinach in mind I downed a quick cup of caffeine at the house and roared into town. I ploughed through the market, eggs, yes, a dozen and three duck eggs for baking. Garlic and Parmesan cheese that crumbled when cut, a sliver of Blue to grace some special crackers. A punnet of strawberries for the Sunday Pavlova, a bunch of carrots still coated in black soil to go with the dinner feast. The Spinach fell out over the counter top. I need enough for five hungry adults, I said. My basket overflowed with the green harvest as I walked up the street. Sure enough I spotted Frau eating at a sidewalk cafe. I bent my basket so that she could easily view my acquisition. Fraus eyebrows raised ever so disconcertingly before she resumed eating, what I believe to have been a spinach crepe a la something or other. She looked disconsolate.
I walked on. My basket was heavy, full of goodness. Stop, at my favourite cafe. Natalie buzzes between the tables. She frees up one for me on the street. Cappucino. I rest. A young woman appears. Here is a tartlet, apple, compliments of Natalie, she says. Heart speaks. I move on. I have to go back to the market. I forgot some parsley, my own source from the garden temporarily depleted, I need to buy it and put it in a jar on the windowsill in the kitchen. The man selling it knows me well. Hi, he says, how are you? Fine, I say, what's that shirt doing there? A shirt hung from his trailer, tomato red with dragons flying across the front. That shirt was in Woodstock, he says, do you want it? And with that he pulls it from the trailer and hands it to me. Here, he says, take it. A gift. I tell him Kisses and he laughs and shoos me away like I'm an irritating fly. All the gifts I received in a simple outing. I never went looking for them but I received them nonetheless. Gifts of tartlets and dragons and kisses and smiles. Gifts on a Saturday morning in Galway with a basket laden with the Spinach, that the Frau never got to buy.