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Swimming in to April!

I began Blogging in lockdown, I've just been reading through my 'light hearted' ramblings from that time, and I found I wanted to give myself a hug.

I can feel the anxiety behind the words.

How easily we forget.


So here are my first Vintage Market witterings for a while and guess what?

I'm STILL moaning!


You see, April began with a white knuckle weekend.

Castle Cary Vintage Market on the 1st.

April Fool?


This is the market I run along with my partner in vintage, Angela, a local Cary resident, a real asset when it comes to arranging events, with and for the local community. 


The met office had predicted 80% chance of rain - in market parlance, that's WET!  But in fact the rain held off for a couple of hours, and at this time of year, however much we traders dislike the rain and what it can do to stock, if we can set up in the dry it's a win.

Small mercies!


However what wasn't so complaint were the electrics!

A random power cut struck first thing, and stayed off all day, affecing The Market House, the charity shop down the road, and various houses up the hill.

Between you and me, I had a quiet panic. I'd taken a beautiful vintage standard lamp to sell, spotted a socket, plugged it in, looked a treat, but what if my lamp had tripped the electrics?

It was only when three South West power vehicles arrived and began digging up the curbside that I thought perhaps it wasn't my fault... or was it...



As forecast, the rain came, and kept coming, and coming in stair rods, and I realised that Castle Cary Vintage Market traders are the best in the world!


In particular, the 4 who pitched on the cobbles both with AND without cover. Smiling as they traded in the driving rain with dripping noses, taking soggy money, and taking it in their stride.


Meanwhile, in The Undercroft and The Shambles, they fumbled about through the day, without power, not a single moan. Quite the contrary, they thought it was hilarious!



As I drove home, absolutely exhausted I thought "We pulled it off!" I was racing home, not only for the traditional post market Manhattan, but also to repack my van for a different demographic, The Frome Independent Market the following day.


My next thought was "why won't my van go above 12 miles per hour?'


To cut a long story short, my 4th injector had gone, and I was in 'limp' mode! (Ain't that the truth!)


So my usually ambivalent husband switched to Superhero mode!

He suggested we drive 40 miles to Frome that night, taking the extra time then rather than in the morning. Then when we'd leave the van on my pitch in the Cheese and Grain car park and go back in his car at 6 am, ready to trade.


So we did, I did, he saved the day and it was worth it!



Frome didn't disappoint, it's always the most amazing vibrant, energetic place, and I needed all that energy to keep me awake.


At the end of the day's trade, we drove the old jalopy...slooowwly.... home.


God bless the A303.

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