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I was at the weekly outdoor market today, hunting for afternoon snacks. Kindergarten pick up time was half an hour away, and I had bread and strawberries on my mind.

In the middle of a short line at the bakery stand, I watched idly as a woman made her order.

"What's inside the Borek?"

"Cheese in these here, and spinach, and ground meat." The proprietress's tongs hung over the pastries in expectation.

"Spinach and ground meat in this one? Together?" The customer half smiled, confused. "Are they all combined, or are they..."

"No no... I use commas," said the proprietress. "Cheese - comma, spinach - comma, ground meat - comma."

Everyone in line laughed, including the customer and the proprietress. I did, too. "Grammar!" shouted another woman, her hands flung in the air.

I made my order and headed over to the produce stand - strawberries and white asparagus. Bags in hand, I popped over to the coffee shop for a small cup, to go. The women from the bakery line were there ahead of me - oh, they all knew each other! Crowded in the small entryway, we waited in the middle of comings and goings to place our orders. An employee eventually grabbed my eye.

     "Coffee? Regular?"
     
     "Yes, to go please!"
  
     "With milk?"

     "Yes please!"

     "Sugar?"

     "No, no."

I paid for my coffee and headed outside. A street musician was playing an instrument like a clarinet to accompanying music on a CD player. The sky was cloudless, and the street was full of the bikes, baskets and rolling shopping bags you see at a market. I felt like I had suddenly expanded and was floating up into the sky.