Childhood Stories.
When I was about 8 years old I loved to go to the Farmers
Market on Sunday Morning in our town to buy Fresh Meat and
Produce for our Family Sunday Dinner.
My Mother allowed me to do so because at that time,long ago
it was considered safe and I had a fierce father - smile who was
well known. Being very tiny I could hardly reach the counter at
the local butcher so I was crushed by the crowd of adults trying
to get the best cuts of meat and sadly that morning I was not successful and I did not want to go home empty-handed.
Suddenly I had a bright idea! I would go to the next market a
few miles away. So I hopped on a bus and went to get my
FRESH MEAT. Lo and behold there was no more. I would have
to wait for the next batch to come from the farm. After waiting patiently for a few hours the meat finally arrived. I gingerly
went up to the butchers counter, placed my money down for my
FRESH MEAT Then what a shock I got the meat was so FRESH
that it was still “jumping shaking and moving” It was only a mere
hour that it was butchered. Needless to say I grabbed my moneyand ran to the bus and back home.
Meanwhile my Mother was looking for me because the first
market had closed and I did not inform her that I was going to
the other market. So no meat for that Sunday Dinner and I got a “Talking to” to tell my Parents where I am going before I go.
Trini