Sugar Lumps

Ah, what colourful tomatoes. You may just be able to see the spelling of asparagus- apagus.
The most complex market-stall spelling I ever saw was in East Street Market in Walworth: essperegess.
The legs remind me of an art installation I once saw called Pervy Men, which had a row of trousered men's legs under brown mackintoshes that lifted one by one in sequence; it was exceptionally pervy and very disturbing.
My favourite stall was the one that sold silver plated sugar tongs, rows and rows of which were slotted over string suspended between the poles of the stall. It looked undignified; sugar tongs are like gentlefolk, polite, reserved, unfussily fussy, and should indicate the presence of sugar lumps piled in a silver sugar dish. To amass them in rows without their Victorian owners' permission seems rude and far too Warholian for such delicately-wrought fancies.
Even British Rail's bright orange tea used to come with two sugar lumps wrapped neatly in red tissue with 'Tate and Lyle' printed on it. McDad used to bring them home every week from London after his train trip and we used to crunch them greedily like little horses. McMum used to give us vitamin drops on a sugar lump every day, and the polio vaccine (I think it was that one) came as drops on a sugar lump too.
Bloody hell. Blogs cause one to ramble on about anything, especially on a Sunday evening!