Ever step back and wonder what it would be like to accidentally meet someone you know at a market. Someone you only know in only within a particular context, like coworker or classmate. People are always different when you find them outside the elements in which they have built the image you have of them.
Sometimes I wonder if I ever bumped into a certain someone at one point in my past and never even realized. At a market perhaps.
Going to the market can entail such a different experience depending on where you live. I think it would be fascinating to travel all over the world experiencing different markets.
Market she thinks …this is not something she was looking forward to to be in a crunch time of having to decide what to do with her phone that is now needing to be replaced, from the back light not working anymore. She actually has to use a Husky flashlight to help her see what is there that is just as if it had not stopped to begin with. She is good with that and knowing at least everything is completely there working and this is only but a small glitch that having the flashlight allows her to continue as if nothing has even happened. However, she is now facing the reality only after trying to get help to see if it is fixable, that it is not. Bummed she is brought back to reality of having to get another one. Insurance will cover replacement, however the one it is to be replaced with, is out of stock.
She takes a very nervous deep breath in, as she is now making the arrangements to replace with an up graded model of her phone with no turning back, but now keenly aware of needing to work on getting all her information from one to the other with as little problems as she can. This is one of her biggest concerns and fears of loosing everything again, like so many other times before with other devices. They held precious moments, whether writing, pictures, or important work and papers…never to return again: only in her heart and mind’s eye with fondness of joy that comes from learning thru each time and letting go; to find the stories thru these storms are always there and have never left.
So, she chooses to continue to move forward , especially now in these moments, knowing she is more than a conqueror and can do anything with His power and strength.
to market to market to buy a fat hog, home again, home again, jiggety jog. It’s funny that a nursery rhyme is the first thing that popped into my head today. Maybe I am thinking about the grandchildren
Today I was at Waterfront and there’s a huge market with lots of expensive looking stores. I’ve also been to long market street where all the stands from local african people are.
I love going to different market stores. You will see majority of the same items. What’s different is the prices. So, that being said, I would stop by at least 4 different markets to finish grocery shopping.
Market is another word for grocery store. I love going to the market. We usually go on Saturdays all together.
The word Market was commonly used in the 50’s and 60’s and probably before, but is rarely used now.
The farmers market was full of people who were selling fruits such as tomatoes, apples, oranges, lemons, limes and peaches(<3). They were also selling vegetables such as green beans, peas, carrots, corn, beets (ugh), Llama beans, and radishes.
We go to the market every Sunday. We try all the foods and drinks. My favorite is the chicken and waffles! I love looking at the clothes because of all the different varieties.
She pushed her basket further up her arm, her eyes darting around, behind him. “Uh-huh.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just busy, you know, stuff to do.”
The end of an idea is drifting through my mind, irritating isn’t it. It is like the call or barkers in the market about the first or last of the fresh fruit, that if you listen becomes a meaningless rising and falling of stretched vowels and extended consonates, a tidal wave that you walk through, each sound causing tidal drifts of people to one side or the next.
´´ hi there , what we can sell is this bell, it is a set of writing words and a whimsical market´, said the person writing a free word in one minute flat.
The market square had been different than before. With more goods and wares that he had ever seen, Jonas is astounded as to the size and breadth of this market. Unlike before, where the markets are lowly and downright decrepit, this one is beaming with cheerfulness and life. Merchants selling their goods with a smile, buyers scrutinizing the goods, engaging barter with the sellers, it’s such an spectacular sight. A sight one would not expect from a country who had just seen war.
oh well i went to a market last week and that is where she died. Martha was only 12 but a big cart of apples fell on her and she met her end in that dreaded alley. I don’t miss her. her fault for kicking the cart and having it fall on her.
i went to the markeet today and i bought some carrots, and they rotted. i know, sad, and now i am at homw crying because my carrots are rotten, and i have no soup to give to my neighbors kidss but cold bean soup which i almost finished last night. the children always rely on my soup, because it has drugs in it. yes, without the parents knowledge, what do you think? i just gave drugs to kids and they were okay with it?
i went to the markeet today and i bought some carrots, and they rotted. i know, sad, and now i am at homw crying because my carrots are rotten, and i have no soup to give to my neighbors kidss but cold bean soup which i almost finished last night…
She was stuck. Unmarketable. Nothing to bring to market except an empty purse. Why could she not think outside the box? Go to market with her empty purse. Fill it with whatever she wanted. Run fast as the wind out of the store. Get caught? Not a problem. Three hots and a cot in jail.
If I had majored in marketing in college, I would have had a lifetime job in advertising, one way or the other. We used to look down at marketing. If your product is good, people will buy it. They won’t need exaggerated claims of perfection, of indispensability, of better than the Joneses. Now it seems that’s all we have. Marketing.
She walked with her empty basket along those market stalls. Very appetizing, those offers. But she had not enough money for all those tempting fruits and bakery goods. She could just afford a small piece of cheese.
in the Square, where there were dogs playing in fountains and army veterans playing violin next to open cases. a hemp bag of celery, broccoli, honey, eggplant, bell pepper slung on my arm. the swelling vegetable season painted the market and it was all cheap and delicious and fresh. polishing the fiery surface of a pepper with my sleeve, it reflected the noon sun. i took a wet bite..
the heat was oppressive in the crowded market. Alae’in shouldered their way through the press of bodies, searching for the stall that held what they sought.
When was the last time we went to the market on Sunday together, my love? We used to buy baskets of peaches and cherries and cute tiny jars of sweet almonds. We’d then by the bay and ate nuts by the handful and break fruit to bits with our teeth. Then we’d kiss, and the salt in the air would mingle on our lips as the sun started setting.
Ever step back and wonder what it would be like to accidentally meet someone you know at a market. Someone you only know in only within a particular context, like coworker or classmate. People are always different when you find them outside the elements in which they have built the image you have of them.
Sometimes I wonder if I ever bumped into a certain someone at one point in my past and never even realized. At a market perhaps.
Going to the market can entail such a different experience depending on where you live. I think it would be fascinating to travel all over the world experiencing different markets.
Market she thinks …this is not something she was looking forward to to be in a crunch time of having to decide what to do with her phone that is now needing to be replaced, from the back light not working anymore. She actually has to use a Husky flashlight to help her see what is there that is just as if it had not stopped to begin with. She is good with that and knowing at least everything is completely there working and this is only but a small glitch that having the flashlight allows her to continue as if nothing has even happened. However, she is now facing the reality only after trying to get help to see if it is fixable, that it is not. Bummed she is brought back to reality of having to get another one. Insurance will cover replacement, however the one it is to be replaced with, is out of stock.
She takes a very nervous deep breath in, as she is now making the arrangements to replace with an up graded model of her phone with no turning back, but now keenly aware of needing to work on getting all her information from one to the other with as little problems as she can. This is one of her biggest concerns and fears of loosing everything again, like so many other times before with other devices. They held precious moments, whether writing, pictures, or important work and papers…never to return again: only in her heart and mind’s eye with fondness of joy that comes from learning thru each time and letting go; to find the stories thru these storms are always there and have never left.
So, she chooses to continue to move forward , especially now in these moments, knowing she is more than a conqueror and can do anything with His power and strength.
to market to market to buy a fat hog, home again, home again, jiggety jog. It’s funny that a nursery rhyme is the first thing that popped into my head today. Maybe I am thinking about the grandchildren
Today I was at Waterfront and there’s a huge market with lots of expensive looking stores. I’ve also been to long market street where all the stands from local african people are.
I love going to different market stores. You will see majority of the same items. What’s different is the prices. So, that being said, I would stop by at least 4 different markets to finish grocery shopping.
At the market, we found a lost dog. the dog had a color on.
Market is another word for grocery store. I love going to the market. We usually go on Saturdays all together.
The word Market was commonly used in the 50’s and 60’s and probably before, but is rarely used now.
The farmers market was full of people who were selling fruits such as tomatoes, apples, oranges, lemons, limes and peaches(<3). They were also selling vegetables such as green beans, peas, carrots, corn, beets (ugh), Llama beans, and radishes.
We go to the market every Sunday. We try all the foods and drinks. My favorite is the chicken and waffles! I love looking at the clothes because of all the different varieties.
She pushed her basket further up her arm, her eyes darting around, behind him. “Uh-huh.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just busy, you know, stuff to do.”
And how do you think this market will evolve during the next few years?
Do you think this is a joke?
The country is collapsing, do you actually think that the market is going to respond in a positive way? Are you crazy?
The end of an idea is drifting through my mind, irritating isn’t it. It is like the call or barkers in the market about the first or last of the fresh fruit, that if you listen becomes a meaningless rising and falling of stretched vowels and extended consonates, a tidal wave that you walk through, each sound causing tidal drifts of people to one side or the next.
our mind is quiet useful.
our mind is quiet useful
´´ hi there , what we can sell is this bell, it is a set of writing words and a whimsical market´, said the person writing a free word in one minute flat.
The market square had been different than before. With more goods and wares that he had ever seen, Jonas is astounded as to the size and breadth of this market. Unlike before, where the markets are lowly and downright decrepit, this one is beaming with cheerfulness and life. Merchants selling their goods with a smile, buyers scrutinizing the goods, engaging barter with the sellers, it’s such an spectacular sight. A sight one would not expect from a country who had just seen war.
Itsa’ me, Mario
Hello!
Hello!
oh this is a daily thing, that makes sense. well i go to the market daily i guess but today i did not for a sudden reason called my grandma died. oof.
oh well i went to a market last week and that is where she died. Martha was only 12 but a big cart of apples fell on her and she met her end in that dreaded alley. I don’t miss her. her fault for kicking the cart and having it fall on her.
i went to the markeet today and i bought some carrots, and they rotted. i know, sad, and now i am at homw crying because my carrots are rotten, and i have no soup to give to my neighbors kidss but cold bean soup which i almost finished last night. the children always rely on my soup, because it has drugs in it. yes, without the parents knowledge, what do you think? i just gave drugs to kids and they were okay with it?
i went to the markeet today and i bought some carrots, and they rotted. i know, sad, and now i am at homw crying because my carrots are rotten, and i have no soup to give to my neighbors kidss but cold bean soup which i almost finished last night…
The market was bustling, of course. The market was battered by fabrics flapping in the wind, like a thousand tiny, confused sails.
how to market this strange and profoundly brilliant new idea?…
She was stuck. Unmarketable. Nothing to bring to market except an empty purse. Why could she not think outside the box? Go to market with her empty purse. Fill it with whatever she wanted. Run fast as the wind out of the store. Get caught? Not a problem. Three hots and a cot in jail.
If I had majored in marketing in college, I would have had a lifetime job in advertising, one way or the other. We used to look down at marketing. If your product is good, people will buy it. They won’t need exaggerated claims of perfection, of indispensability, of better than the Joneses. Now it seems that’s all we have. Marketing.
Better get me a website. To market myself.
She walked with her empty basket along those market stalls. Very appetizing, those offers. But she had not enough money for all those tempting fruits and bakery goods. She could just afford a small piece of cheese.
in the Square, where there were dogs playing in fountains and army veterans playing violin next to open cases. a hemp bag of celery, broccoli, honey, eggplant, bell pepper slung on my arm. the swelling vegetable season painted the market and it was all cheap and delicious and fresh. polishing the fiery surface of a pepper with my sleeve, it reflected the noon sun. i took a wet bite..
the heat was oppressive in the crowded market. Alae’in shouldered their way through the press of bodies, searching for the stall that held what they sought.
Market
The market is a place for by delicius foods. We mett bred, milk and eggs for exemplo.
Brasilian haves various types of Market.
When was the last time we went to the market on Sunday together, my love? We used to buy baskets of peaches and cherries and cute tiny jars of sweet almonds. We’d then by the bay and ate nuts by the handful and break fruit to bits with our teeth. Then we’d kiss, and the salt in the air would mingle on our lips as the sun started setting.