Mementoes from Paris Flea Markets

The red shoes are on 

and the heels have been clicked.

It feels right to be heading home.

 But not before

a last wander thorough 

a flea market or two. 

Paris was by far the favorite,

 and in Berlin

 the Mauer Park markets on Sundays 

is completely rewarding.

 Acres of stalls, plenty of food, 

fresh juice and all the wurst you can eat.

There would be shots of Mauerpark goodies

 if some bright spark had not decided 

to mail her camera charger back home.

Doh.

These goodies are from Clingancourt

 markets in Paris. 

Not as rollicking, 

nor as cheap, 

but gorgeous eye candy.

My head was inside that case some time

 before coming up for air, and cake.

 Vintage haberdashery items 

never fail to draw.

  It pays to ask permission 

before snapping -  

I learned a few new french swear words..

 which I won't share...

 before I realized the suitcase

 could hold only so much.

 Time to switch to tiny things.

 

Puce means flea in French.

It's also what they call

 a SIM card in your phone.

 Flea markets are a great place to headhunt

 for prospective studio assistants..

 

This guy was adorable,

 but too big to get away with.

 These guys fit the criteria.

 Boris is below.

He wears a little navy jumpsuit, 

and loves beer.

 If you know my facebook page, 

Boris and the crew will be old friends by now - 

all the juice happens there first.

They are looking forward 

to presenting their bios  after

personnel department Bruce

 is done

 sniffing them over.

For now it's time to stare at the ceiling 

and pretend to sleep.

I packed the melatonin 

( regulates sleep and great for time difference jet lag)

with the camera charger.