Write a four line poem about something or someone that is: picky.
We had a very busy start to the market this morning, as people seemed to be coming out early in order to beat the heat. Things remained pretty steady until around noon, at which point pretty much everybody had either gone home or to the beach.
By that point we only had a few pounds of apricots left, one apple (it drives me a little nuts when someone buys all but the last one like that), several pounds of plums, and about half of the cabbage. Raspberries and green beans had already sold out and we'd done pretty well with our first batch of garlic.
I ended up donating half of the cabbage to the food bank people that come around at the end of every market, and we'll either eat the remaining fruit or save them for the boxes.
All in all a pretty decent market.
He knows what he wants,
It never varies;
So just hand over
All the blueberries