So, there I was, doing my nomadic impressions, gazing blankly at shop windows because they were all closed at half-past nine on a Sunday morning.
I hear a voice calling "Oy!" and take a quick look around behind me, but all I see are two young people coming out of an alley across the market place, a young couple.
"Huh," I think to myself. "They had better not be OYing at me! That's just bad manners," and I went on my pointless way.
"OY!" came a little bit louder, but I ignored it and went around a corner.
Two seconds later - "OY!" - and this was much nearer, so I turned to have a look and possibly even straighten someone up.
Pat was standing on the corner I had just traversed.
"Are you deaf?" asked she.
"Ooo," said I as I hugged her, "I thought it was someone else."
Back to the car, which was Tracey's, so that's why I hadn't seen it. I was expecting to see one of Rover's off-roaders, not a Japanese two door rabbit hutch.
"Hello Trace," said I as I squeezed into the back.
Well, off we went to a car boot sale, and when we got there the rest of the family were there, apart from Dennis - he was still working to provide the country with salad ingredients.
It's amazing how much stuff is sold at these affairs, and for so little dosh too. Just as well really, because all I had in my pocket was just over six quid. Still, you can get a lot of stuff at a boot sale for six quid - and Jade did! She wasn't the only one either. As far as I could see, we all did well as we purchased lots of stuff which we were not aware that we couldn't live without.
The picnic was nice, I cannot say otherwise, but it was hot.
So, (I've got to stop saying that - it's the Irish in me you know) So, we all sat about munching away and stoking the furnace for a busy afternoon - we were off to an open day.
To start with there was Welly Whanging, which I intended to go in for but needless to say that didn't happen. I managed to steal an apple from a tree but after one bite I wished I hadn't. It was nice and red, firm - and as dry as a funeral drum. Clearly THAT tree needs a couple more months before the fruit is ready.
There was terrier racing, but two of them caught the hare, one ran off to look for its owner and another decided to go the wrong way. At that point the organisers decided to get little kids to race along the track instead and great fun was had by all, especially in one race where the three bigger children were off like rockets and a tiny little boy ran after them yelling at them.
Turkeys smell a good bit, that's a fact.
By about three in the afternoon the heat had defeated me and I was kind of wandering aimlessly so we all packed up and the other car went off home - can't blame anyone for that, it was too hot.
Tracy brought me back and that was the end of a fairly hectic sort of day where I seemed to hardly stop and yet I didn't do very much of anything at all. Summer weather does that to people, it tires them out - much like dealing with the prison service, it's tiring and generally aimless.
I'm not out for another three weeks now. Should give me time to work out how to use the pocket watch I bought to adorn my weskit. Actually, I didn't buy it, Pat did, which was nice of her.
The odd part about it all is that later, as I lay on top of my bed waiting to be enfolded into the arms of Orpheus, I realised that I had actually enjoyed the day. So thank you to those who made it all possible, especially the little kid who came last and was yelling at those going faster than him - I know how you feel my boy.
The Voice In The Wilderness
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