There's another Saturday morning away by and I didn't go to the Farmers Market down in the car park next to the station in Dunedin. I don't enjoy it as much as I used to. I like crowds and people watching and you can meet people you know from time to time. Some Saturdays there isn't a being you would recognise. Maybe it's the time of day you go at. Even Polly who can meet folks she knows all the time comes home and hasn't spoken to anyone. She did meet people today but only briefly. And that's the other thing.
When it's bunged to the gills with a slow crawling crowd you can't actually stop for a chat without causing a major blockage.
I stayed in bed with V.I. Warshawski this morning. The one that was made into a film with Kathleen Turner. What a clumsy uninformative sentence. The Paretsky novel is called 'Deadlock'. The film, apparently unsuccessful at the box office, according to the only IMDB reviewer I read, was called 'V.I. Warshawski'.
I found the copy in St. Vincent de Paul the other day in the 50 cent clearance box. The paperback is in good nick and there is a handsome picture of Kathleen Turner flashing her shapely pins. This doubtless is a promotional picture from the film.
I reproduce it here with no credit. This is an abominable lossy jpeg image and doesn't deserve attribution. I didn't get reading for long as the cat came in to the bedroom and demanded to be let out. Good daddy got up.