the market.

Today I biked to the market for my organic vegetables. By now, the farmers recognize me, endearingly calling me "La belle fleur." One of them made sure that I got the only red pepper they had. My favourite farmer is a grandfatherly fellow who loves teaching me "real" Quebecois phrases (not that "useless" French they teach at the university! he says.). He sells a lot of exotic vegetables-- every week he has another bizarre vegetable to show me. This week, it was an African cucumber, which looks like a little green, lumpy, spherical-ish thing. I'll miss the market and my new farmer friends when it closes for the winter.