A second set of pictures from the Saturday Farmer’s Market. The vendors are very gracious about my eyeballing their wares and in turn, I try to get in and out as quickly as possible and not interfere with their trade.

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Years ago (no camera,) I dithered just a little at an outdoor market in Toronto’s Chinatown and was roundly upbraided by a seller. While I could not understand a word of what she was saying, I’m pretty sure I was served a verbal slap-down.

I believe both my parents and children, as well as the horse I rode in on were included in her rant.

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Not a veggie, of course, but who can resist the soft blush of ripe peaches?

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My address book got hijacked this morning, so if you and I have ever exchanged e-mails, you might well have gotten an offer from me to save some Nigerian princesses or purchase cool medicines from Canada. I am so sorry. That wasn’t me.

I’ve been on the receiving end of those scam-o-rama messages and I find it particularly bizarre to hear from dead friends.  “Zowie! An e-mail from my dead friend Zelda! I wonder what she has to say about the afterlife?” And then I find out that apparently Zelda has been spending her down time selling penny stocks.

I guess there really is a Hell.

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