The Sunday Tuesday Market

Redding, our friend Will Hensley, and Mason with their bags
of agua de limon and jamaica, plus steamed garbanzo beans with
lime and chile

Sunday mornings are a big day for our family.  Up early, out to Landeta, the open fields around an often dried up dam with the dogs, then breakfast at the Tuesday Market, a local mercado that is now open on Sundays as well.  It's the breakfast of champions: pizza with hot dogs and a plastic cup of orange soda; waffles with chocolate syrup and condensed milk; or barbacoa and consomme--lamb steamed in banana leaves served in tacos with hot sauce, cilantro and onions.

The DoriLoco cart with condiments

On a special morning it might be DoriLocos: a bag of nacho-cheese Doritos cut open at the topped with toppings poured into the bag: cucumber, Chinese noodles, garbanzo beans, salsa, onions, shaved carrots.

Then we rummage through piles of dead people's clothes, or cast offs from road races and other charity events in the states.  Sometimes you'll find J.Jill, Gap, Ann Taylor, Old Navy, Burberry, and Merrell shoes.  Yesterday I got two lovely summer shirts for $1.52 in total. I'm wearing one now.  They're washed, ironed and always smell like really good laundry soap.  What's not to love.

We also pick up several bootleg movies which invariably disappointment because although they say they're in English they almost never are.  Then there's a bird seller who walks around with a multi-story tower of wooden bird cages filled with parakeets and small wrens.  The fighting cock guy with his dozens of birds in cardboard lettuce boxes pocked by knife holes to give them air.  The pit pull puppy guy, always with a big mamma dog in tow sporting a leather harness and huge steel chain.

Redd always wants a new wallet (which is interesting because he never has any money) or a sleeveless athletic shirt.  Bo is content with nothing with is his way, and Mason angles fo ra baby turtle, a chihuahua, or some other animal that's not coming home with us.