FOR days whenever passing the home of the Apricot Lady, we'd hoped to see her, to ask if her delicious apricots were for sale. But she'd suddenly gone into hiding.
Instead, we had to pass her tree, full of ripe-looking fruit, and just dream of what could be. However, one evening I had a stroke of luck. On the way to the village early in the evening as the sun was setting, I passed her home and there she was, tending to something in the front yard.
I stopped to chat and asked - in Croatian, of course - if her apricots were for sale, not forgetting to say how extraordinary the ones she'd given us were.
But, disappointingly, her answer was a kind 'no'. She said the apricots weren't ready, in spite of how they looked. We carried on chatting.
She told me how her apricots were 'real home-grown' and not what you'd often find in the market. You could taste the difference, I told her. We then cheerily said our goodbyes.
About an hour later, on my way back, I saw her sitting up front, doing some knitting. Her head was down, so I said nothing and passed by.
But she called out to me. I turned around and she asked me to wait, before dashing inside. The excitement building inside me - more for Jamie and Zenchai than myself - I prayed she'd come out with some of those mouth-watering apricots.
I waited. In her arms were five large red tomatoes from her margnificent garden, lush with fruit and vegetables.
"How much?" I asked. "No. This is for you," she insisted, grinning from ear to ear. I thanked her and set off.
PS. Just in case you are wondering, Apricot Lady did not stack them on me like I was a market stall - that would be my other half.
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クロエ デオドラントスプレー http://www.vanformer.net/%e7%a0%b4%e6%a0%bc%e3%81%ae%e6%bf%80%e5%ae%89%e4%be%a1%e6%a0%bc-%e3%82%af%e3%83%ad%e3%82%a8-%e3%83%87%e3%82%aa%e3%83%89%e3%83%a9%e3%83%b3%e3%83%88%e3%82%b9%e3%83%97%e3%83%ac%e3%83%bc%e3%82%af/
Posted by: クロエ デオドラントスプレー | 13 September 2013 at 06:29 PM