American...

Thursday> First time at Obereichi (or something close) organic herb farm, to volunteer. Only rainy day all week. Weed the green house (get muddy). Eat large spaghetti lunch (with good organic tea). Package dried pears and teas. Tea time (with pralines). Go home. Overall enjoyable, not super educational, but met some nice semi-english speaking people. Will return.

Friday> Work (or play I shall say). Bocce ball... although I don't think that is what this game is really called... with the men. They call it booal.. boo, like a ghost, ul, like nul. Metal balls one kiki (small ball you aim at). Seems the same to me but apparently not. Enjoyable, quite. One younger male (apparently 18?) seemed nice but quiet. Oh well.

Saturday> Farmers market in Bern. New book, thrilling. Relaxation. Joyous.

Sunday> Flea market in Bern. Splendid. Bought a helmet for 3 CHF (swiss francs) and a lot of nice clothes for very cheap. Met the other American nanny in the Zietlum (sp?). She is really nice, has traveled all of her life, for the child of an army father. Fluent in german. 22. Catholic. We shall see.

Why oh why do people buy new. The beauty of something used and loved before. A sweater you love so dearly that it has holes and stains that you meticulously patch and scrub at. Although nothing like it once was, but better. Soft and scented. You know how it will fit you and could wear it daily. To obtain something that someone has already loved a little, you are part of the way to a new loved item. The history behind it, especially something quite old. A sweater passed down through generations bought in another country and traveling with the people. Why contribute to mass production of similar items when you can contribute to passing on history and using things until unusable, and then find new uses, perhaps a pillow or a patch for a blanket. Perhaps a statue or a piece of art. Imagine.
Oh how flea markets thrill me.