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.
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
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.