Saturday, September 04, 2010

tomatoes, pale, French

Posted by PicasaA stack of tomatoes from  the Isle of Wight deserves and receives careful consideration at The Farmers' Market in Civic Way.

Morning glories again. They persist, running along the branch of a vigorous climbing rose, and weighing it down;  although, almost as a guage of temperature, they seem paler in the autumnal weather.

In Hall's bookshop, following a discussion about  the charms of cumbersome19th  Century novels Sabrina says: "Have you seen the box of French paperback?" She has never taken to stocking  books in French, and hides them away out of sight. She pulls a box  from under a table. They aren't all paperbacks.  I can't resist two Alphonse Daudet  (Editions Fasquel) hardbacks with illustrations, while the paperbacks, all in good condition, include four by Henri Troyat, an author whom I have recently begun to enjoy and several others, including two by Philippe Labro, both  in Gallimard's Folio Collection. I stagger to the cash desk where she casts an eye over them with apparent distaste, " Two pounds," she says.

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