My local town holds three street markets a year. The May one is for plants, there's one in the summer for antiques (well...muck'n'tat 'n' stuff) and a Christmas market. One of the main streets is closed off for the day. It always goes really well, especially if the weather is good, and today it certainly was. The sun shone warmly all day, but there was enough freshness in the breeze for it not to be stifling.
Not that I had time to enjoy it - though I did have a splendid bacon roll from the local butcher and caterer, who can always be relied upon for tasty food.
Not good photos, but I was in a hurry. A jazz band, lots of stalls and a queue for icecream
Al had decided to give the shop its spring clean. I happened to be up at 5.15 this morning, so I went in at 8 for a couple of hours to help.
The reason I was up at 5.15 is that the Sage snored. He rarely snores, and if he does, I kick him (as gently as possible, of course). But this snoring was extraordinary. He started gently and quietly and crescendoed to the sound of a car revving. Honestly, just like - vroom, vroom. Having the car in neutral and putting your foot on the accelerator. He's never done it before and it was too interesting to stop. But after a few minutes, I knew I wouldn't sleep again this Sunday, so I got up and make a nice breakfast of toast, butter, pineapple and ginger jam and Lady Grey tea (I only really like poncy teas).
I left Al at 10 o''clock to go to church. I was making coffee, so I bought milk & biscuits. When I arrived, I remembered I should have done the flowers yesterday. Bum! Ah, joy!! The flowers from the wedding last week were in pretty good nick, and how nice of the family to have left them. I watered, deadheaded, judiciously refilled from one container to another and no one knew I'd forgotten the job.
I made a cafetiereful of coffee and ate a biscuit. Now, this turned out to be a good move, because a nice young couple turned up to hear their marriage banns being read, and I was able to demonstrate how welcoming and unstuffy we are by giving them coffee and assuring them it was fine to take it into the pew. I was startled to be greeted by name by a chap I didn't know - fortunately, I later worked out that he and his wife (whom I also didn't recognise) had moved away about 12 years ago and have just come back to the next village. I greeted them by name after the service and remembered their daughters' names too, which is not bad going for an old girl.
I'd finished by 1 o'clock (3 hours in church, no wonder life is so good to me, God thinks I need a treat after that) and went straight back to Al, on the way taking the photos above. He had been (considering he wasn't open for the purpose of greengrocery) amazingly busy. He had plants to sell, surplus peppers, aubergines and courgettes, as well as the usual herbs etc, but sold lots of fruit & veg too. I should think he took at least £300. The last customers came at 5.40. They were a couple just on their way home from Jersey, who were happy to find a shop open, and a man who bought 100g of mushrooms (he put a couple of handfuls in a bag and that was the exact weight). We were not finished however, and I left at 20 past 6, abandoning Al to the final clearing up.
I poured a half litre of St Peter's Brewery Organic Ale. I quaffed a quarter of it thirstily and went to greet Dilly and the children, who were blowing bubbles on the tennis court. Al arrived home, looking knackered. I passed my beer to him and went to find another bottle.
I've finished that. Now I'm on Sauvignon Blanc. I asked Ro to cook dinner. He has put a pizza in the oven. Al has come through to say they are ordering a Thai takeaway. I've said I'll be ready for that after the pizza. Joy.
Al had queues too
And unsuspectingly happy to be photographed customers. Sorry, I should have said you were to be immortalised on the internet, on Z's internationally read blog. Thank you, and if you want to be taken down, do tell me, but I think you were lovely and I'd like to keep you here if I may.
While I'm about it, I'd also like to thank the lovely lady who thought I was Al's wife not his mum.
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I'm surprised they didn't think you were his daughter - if I remember rightly, you look about 16...
You are so good for me, Dandelion!
Only saying what I see :-)
Oh dear. Sadly, we are destined not to meet, for it would be a dreadful let-down for you.
What a busy life you lead!
You deserved the wine and the take-away after all that.
Liz, I am a tired woman tonight. I am by nature dreadfully indolent and always take the easiest route, but I also find it hard not to pitch in and help and I don't like to quit before the job's done.
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