A Christmas market

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Today is market day in Bedoin. Today, as I do every Monday, I have to send off books and prints, and I have to find things for Julian to paint. It is also the last market day before Christmas. Having browsed the p�lardons and picodons, the walnuts, the roasting fowl on spits, the African drums, Italian hand made pasta and Antillian samosas, having mourned the disappearance of the goat lady who resembled her flock and was banned because of EU regulations concerning her fridge, and having celebrated the seasonal absence of all-things-lavender, having said ‘Bonnes f�tes’ to many neighbours and invited others round for a festive ap�ro on Thursday, I find it is almost midday and I am running out of time so I resort - for daily painting purposes - to the trusty clementine.

I say ‘Careful of the leav…..’

‘Yes’ says Olivier, the vegetable seller. ‘I know, they are for a painting.’

The citrus fruit, all puffed up in their festive orange skins, go in a lovely red bowl made by our potter friend in the village, Louis Brueder, and sit on the farmhouse table. At the end of the day Julian comes down from the studio with last week's clementines painted, in a Turkish bowl made by Galip.


I think about Oxford Street and canned carols and gift wrapping in Dixons and Next and The Tie Rack, and the pressure to buy buy buy….and I am so glad we live here where nature and good fayre are all that count on a cold winter’s morn at Christmas time.

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Happy Christmas to you both

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