a memory

When I was a kid we used to have a French 'onion man' visit every year. He had a bicycle laden with long strings of plaited onions. My mum always bought 2 strings from him. He couldn't speak very good English and he always wore an old dark blue beret. He was very friendly and delighted to sell his onions. His plaiting skills were brilliant - a lot better than mine!

So every year when we harvest our own onion crop I plait them and hang them in the shed - and it always reminds me of him.