We are between Fairs, in that strange ‘no-mans-land’  of no urgency!  Which we find rather unsettling, and we drift around leaving a trail of things to be done, put away, got rid of, catalogued – before the next mad downwards dash sets in,  before setting off to……………..  Stafford, Bingley Hall in August,  I do believe, although even that I had to think hard about!

And wouldn’t you think that with no urgent deadline I would/could be pottering about domestically, fettling this and that and generally making the house look vaguely loved?

And maybe, at least reaching tentatively the further most reaches of our garden, which are usually the sole haunts of birds and  machete worthy weeds?

And yes I did mount an expedition, all of a stones throw from the house, but viewed from the safely of the path decided that my slippers weren’t up to it and returning to find proper shoes got side tracked by the next chapter of a rather good book!

Switched off, that’s what we are, although we did make another attempt yesterday evening to rejoin the real world, we put a few boxes of bits in one of our local auctions and went to see how they faired!

We have never been ‘Pub/Club’ kind of people.  A Vimto in  the Pub Garden is probably as exciting as we get but all small local sales are generally held in Working Mens Clubs of one sort or another,  And so blending in beautifully with a glass of water and a Pepsi, we sat for about 3 hours on probably the hottest evening of the year, dripping sweat and remembering that years ago we often bought treasure at these kind of places!

And there were lots of faces that we recognised from the olden days, people to nod to and people to greet with chat.  Dealers and Ebayers, Car Booters and Second Hand Dealers and some just there for the fun of buying things.

And I had forgotten so much.   My carefully sorted box of mixed glass, not rare things but Victorian/Edwardian and later, things that we didn’t want to put on our stall but definitely not rubbish.  Went to a lovely lady for £1, talking to her afterwards, she bought it for the pink TK Max vase that I pushed in at the last minute, not for the tiny green enamelled Victorian jug with matching glasses, or the set of Punch cups, 1960’s, or even the Uranium glass basket, or the French milk glass goblet.  She was amazed and if I hadn’t been chatting to her would have left them to be thrown away and I expect when she got home, that indeed she did exactly that.

Anyway I am off to a little light desultory dusting  and maybe even cooking!

 

 

 

 

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