Thursday May 13th

Day 24

The market felt very precious this morning with the sun filtering between the green and white striped stalls. I feel so blessed to have it on my doorstep.

I know the faces of these stall holders, like I know my hands. And they know me - the ones I visit regularly anyway. My first port of call is always the organic vegetables. Today I filled my recycled bag from a French supermarket with floppy elephant ears of spring greens, bronze tipped lettuces, the last cuttings of purple sprouting broccoli, a dozen pullet eggs, 2 slippery trout from a mill stream, a soft round loaf speckled green with wild garlic.

It takes a bit longer shopping like this - all the chat over the laden tables.

At a new stall, a replica of a French village patisserie, I avoid the elaborate confections glazed with cream and chocolate and clusters of redcurrants, and plump for 2 almond tarts instead. One with half an apricot, one with half a pear nesting in the centre. It is a day for morning tea treats at home with my man - for no reason. Maybe to reminisce about our holidays in France. The young man behind the glass counter says he made them this morning. And the croissants. He tells me he trained with a patissier in Brittany. I buy 6 croissants for my young visitors’ breakfast this weekend.

“Warm them in the oven first,” he says. I guess he thinks I wouldn’t know that. But then he is new in my market place - he doesn’t know me yet. It depends how buttery the pastry is.