Saturday 31 May 2008

Otago Farmer's Market

Foggy start in Dunedin today. So foggy we left the bikes at home and took the bus into town. Fruit and vegetables are the heaviest parts of our weekly shopping so I am happy to get the bus in and the bus back. I keep an eye out at the market for familiar faces. The instinctive need of the immigrant to be recognised and feel at home. I saw Diane as she was leaving. Usually we have a brief conversation but not today. Then, as I was attending our shopping trolley near the Pacific Rose apple stall, Jackie said 'hello'.

After market we went to Potpourri Café and had coffee and treats. My dormant nostrils erupted when they met the warmth of the café and I thanked the god of paper tissues that made me line my pockets with them before we left home.

A short stop at the Supermarket saw us on our way to the pharmacy for Disprin for me and muscle relaxants for P who has had a shocking three weeks worth of pain. Outside we discovered her keys were missing. She went on to Albany Street and I went back to the market to look for them. They weren't in the Lost Property at the market caravan. Nor were they at any of the stalls. Each of the stallholders advised me to visit the Market caravan. I could see what a circular thing this was becoming so I checked the Railway Station with no luck there either. I also went to the cop shop and the policewoman gave me a great bucket of keys to look through. I had an inward eye flash of a child being quieted by rummaging in the toy bin they have in horrible places like WINZ to project a warm caring image. I didn't find the keys there either.

I started for home - in a bit of a panic as my keys (whoops!) were still in my pocket and jeekersflipmeohmygosh how was P supposed to get in out of the cold. I'd already advised her to get the bus back home and let me worry about her missing keys. I hooked it down to Butts and stuck my thumb out and got a lift straight away. My accent still poses a little difficulty for Kiwis at times but once the driver worked out where I was going he lightened up and gave me his ancestry - Maori-Irish-Scottish. A good blend we both thought.

When I wheezed up our steep drive I found the door already open. Polly had already located her keys in the trolley in a place that would seem improbable to the rational mind. I really find the location impossible to describe without a diagram so I'm not going to do it.

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