Hard work never killed anyone . . .

That's how the saying goes.  Sometimes recently I have wondered as to its truth!  I seem to be on a perpetual treadmill - a positive one, for all that, but however hard I work there still seems to be a long  long list of "fings to do".  The garden of course is one, as that IS my preserve and responsibility.  My husband is not a great one for vegetables and can't understand why I put myself through the wringer each year to grow by own french beans, runner beans, spring onions, cucumbers, tomatoes, courgettes etc, so he doesn't understand how different they taste, how much fresher they are and how pure they are - unsullied by sprays which no living being should ingest.

Anyway, that's by the by, as gardening is relaxing when I have time to shoehorn it into my busy week.  Housework, also needing to be tackled will have to wait until tomorrow, as will the painting of the stairs and curtain-making and restoring stock too.

Today was a Fleamarket day, which meant an early start (5.30 a.m.), unpacking and setting up, standing around for around 6 hours, packing up and cramming back into the car the items which didn't sell.  I meet up with old friends and customers though, and have some lovely chats, and meet new people.  There is usually the "expert" who will come round and try to tell you that so-and-so isn't really a so-and-so but is actually a wotsit, and it does that and not this, as you say it does!  There were none of those today, fortunately.

Until you have actually stood around for 6 hours though, you don't realize how tiring it is!  I don't think I could do this every day - it will take me until Wednesday to get over it I think.  When I got in I felt like I could sleep on the head of a pin : )  I do walk around too - exploring the outside stalls first thing before the public come in, on the lookout for something of interest to sell, and again, chatting to friends and acquaintances out there.  

I began packing early and managed to get away to Tesco's with just 5 minutes to spare before closing time, so grabbed a bottle of our favourite red wine which I forgot to buy yesterday.

A photo from Builth Antiques Fair and Fleamarket last year.  You never know what you will find, which is the joy of such places.

Anyway, the house looks like Steptoe's yard right now, full of stock to go to the Unit or be worked on first, or take its turn in the change-over of things to sell so that things are never static and boring.  In the back hall are two paper sacks with unwashed fleeces in them - a really soft brown fleece (Alpaca?) and a Leicester Long Wool I think which have come home with me from clearing my dear friend Annie's house.  There were many fleeces and I want to get back to my spinning.  Hence in the middle of the kitchen table, surrounded by cookery books and a couple of magazines is a Drop Spindle with some soft brown wool!  I really MUST tidy up tomorrow.