rewboss

Apples and spuds

Apples and spuds

As if I didn’t have enough to do today, what with paperwork and unexpected commissions, some lady came round today selling apples and potatoes “fresh from the farm”. She actually had half an apple in her hand, and was slicing off a bite-sized morsel just as I opened the door.

After a while in a place like this, you begin to know instinctively when to deliver a brusque “No, thanks” and shut the door. It was only afterwards that it struck me. Fresh apples and potatoes from the farm — in May?

No wonder she had that look of desparation on her face. She might have had a little success in the big city, but around here I imagine the most common response would have been a hollow laugh.