Last week I remembered …

Last week I had a message from my daughter who lives in Rio de Janeiro:
She said,  and I cut and paste ‘Off to Praça XV market tomorrow. Want me to look for anything?’ at first I gave the usual motherly reply ‘Oh no dear! You just go and have a nice time’ and ‘sent’
And then I thought;  about the market and our visit earlier this year.  The market is in a busy intersection of major roads and below a huge flyover. For around 300 metres the market straddles the strip of shade, Away from the blinding sun or torrential rain every saturday morning.  The market ‘stalls’; a loose term to describe the little space occupied by the would-be sales man or woman.  They are often little more than a smoothed out carrier bag or piece of cardboard spread on the ground with a few bits and bobs to sell.  Something like a worn pair of shoes, a pair of spectacles and a Sony Walkman; nothing is considered unsaleable. As the strip meanders along, so the stalls become ‘up market’ and tables appear, the trash becomes more attractive and of course more costly.  I remember particularly a man who sold pencils; not just pencils but boxes of them in every colour and grade; a delight for me as I have a pencil and paper fetish.

 I bought a box of 20 slender golden 2Bs and to this day they remain on my desk untouched; a beautiful reminder of a lovely Saturday morning before breakfast in Rio.  Another man sold me a piece from broken lead crystal chandelier; he sat in the shade of the concrete jungle polishing little shards of sparkle to sell for a few reais. Ladies sold fine embroidery, lace. Every stall was a delight, an Aladdin’s cave in an emporium of things you never knew you wanted.

So I reply again and say

A bead, a button, a ribbon or a twist of silk

pop it in the post

make my day

thanks Mum … send.