F R E S H is fabulous

Justin's now on two-a-days practicing in the triple-digit heat of Kansas. He was prepared to work hard, but I'm not sure he was prepared for the competition. They're definitely in a pressure cooker.

Yesterday, he messaged that there are 55 spots for the game roster and 125 kids trying out. He also said, "Thanks for the support cause I really need it right now."

Our messages back have been to sleep, eat, DRINK, DRINK, DRINK and stay strong.
I'm trying to stay calm. Feels like I'm at camp too- it's been an exhausting week.

I thought today I'd switch my thinking and focus back to our trip to southern France.

Markets are popular in Europe.

France is no exception.

In our week there, we were able to catch a couple of them. 

The fresh farmer's market was amazing- perhaps our favorite. You had your pick of fresh meats, fish, fruits and vegetables all on one square.

As a port village, seafood is especially popular specifically the mussels and oysters. If we knew how to cook them, we would have bought them.

Instead, we focused on the amazing fruits and vegetables. We were not disappointed.  We first hit found the cantaloupe and artichoke guy.

 He tossed the melons to pick the best. His baby artichokes were 10 for 1 euro, or about $1.25. Delicious.

With stands all around, Jim happened upon a small corner inside with an old farmer and his produce. He bought a couple nectarines and a huge tomato.

Jim made the comment the old man knew how to garden- his stuff would be good.

We ran home, sliced open one of his white nectarines and are convinced it will likely be the best nectarine we will ever eat.

our favorite old man in France with the best fruit- hand's down

I don't think I've ever tasted a more perfect fruit. Love at first bite.

Of course, we ran back down before he closed up to grab up some more. He smiled when he saw us. Jim picked out another bag of nectarines and we tried our best to let him know how fabulous they were.

Merci, Merci, Merci is about all I know how to say.

As we paid our one or two dollars {or whatever insanely low price it was}, Jim told him {with hand-signal mixed with English, or course} to keep the change.

The change amounting to maybe 40 or 50 cents- very, very little.

The old man didn't know what to do as he tried to hand it back to Jim and Jim tried to let him know to keep it. In a little scurry, he reached over and grabbed two more peaches and handed them to us. It was very sweet. 

As we were leaving Marseillan, the market was open once again so we had to peek in and visit our favorite grower.

His eyes lit up as he saw Jim and he reached over to shake his hand, then mine.

We let him pick out a bag of peaches for us, then he showed Jim how to pick the sweetest cantaloupes.

As others had fancy registers and a little more modern technology, he had none of that.

With only his scale and a broken-off piece of chalk, he wrote out and added up the amounts of our purchase on the corner of his little plywood stand.

Shaking, his hands were huge and fingers almost as wide as two of Jim's showing a life of hard manual labor.

This time, as Jim paid- he looked around for someone to find with change. Jim let him know to keep it. Only a few dollars, he was obviously touched. Best money we spent all week.

With a complete language barrier- not understanding a word of what he said, I mostly watched the old man's eyes as he worked with Jim.

As he accepted our payment, his eyes filled up to the brim with tears.  

As Jim spoke in English and the old man in French, they seemed to understand each other. 

Sounds silly as we were just buying fruit, but for some reason- it was a little more than that.