Sunday, May 17, 2009

Mercury, sing it and national dress.

1. They have for sale an antique thermometer; a blob of mercury the size of my little fingertip contained in a glass bulb. I move it gently to see the not-of-this-world quicksilver re-arrange itself. I put it back (with some regret) as I'd rather not have the responsibility of a toxic metal in the house.

2. A little girl in pink marches towards us. She's not even hip-high yet, but she knows the words to Mama Mia well enough to belt them out in time to her steps.

3. At the market, the lady who sells the meatballs and the herrings and the red cabbage salad wears a yellow and blue Swedish dress.

Morning, errands and entertainment.

1. I murmur an acknowledging greeting to a passing bin man. He is a well brought-up African and replies with eye contact and a warm 'Goo...