Farmers’ market (haibun)

Marché Jean-Talon – Montréal

Going to the farmers’ market as a young child was an adventure. My grandmother would take me and I enjoyed the social aspect of it. Farmers chatting with GrandMaman, so many knew her for she was a midwife and probably assisted many births in those farm houses.  It was also a place appropriate to bargain at the local market and sometimes just listening to some of the bantering made it fun to be here with her.  It’s sort of cool tagging along someone so well known, respected and loved.

Although we lived in town  she still knew her fresh vegetables seeing as she had several gardens, flora and vegetables and she knew how to choose fresh meat. She would even test fish  by taking a tiny piece raw and taste it to see if it was really fresh; I guess it is no surprise that I learned to eat a tiny portion of fresh extra-lean grown steak raw sprinkled with salt while she was making hamburgers.  You have to remember that in those days we went to the butcher and saw him grind the fresh steak.

farmer’s market
old woman picks at the fish
it glared at her

© Tournesol ’15

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