The trolley is dead. Long live the trolley

An essential tool of daily life in downtown Paris is the trolley, also known as a wheelie, Rollser, rollie-thingie and a bunch of other names. In a place where taking the car to the market isn't practical, you drag your trolley with you to carry your groceries home. Everyone has one, and many people have several.

The garish trolley in the right of the picture was bequeathed to us by Rob and Cheryl when they returned home to the U.S. last year. It was a dodgy creature, with shaky wheels, stretched fabric and a distinctively homely exterior. Still, we were very glad to have it. After all, who would steal such a thing? (you leave them outside the market when you go in to shop and they are known to flee under their own power sometimes)

As Troy was leaving Casino (a supermarket) yesterday, it took a curb a little too heavily and broke the plastic supports that help keep it upright. While you can still carry things in it, if you let go of it, it will topple over on its poor ugly face. A bottle of marinara sauce was sacrificed in the ordeal.

Today we bought a new trolley, a little camouflage number we hope will be suitably ugly yet high in capacity. We like it. But it's not our old one.

The trolley is dead. Long live the trolley!