Off to the market......

Just got back from a trip to the market at Vic en Bigorre.
It was going to be another grotty weather day, so best to do things which were not dependent on the weather, so to the market we went.

But I am not complaining about this bout of rainy weather because the land badly needs a drink. After the recent months of dry weather it is very thirsty.  No wind today though, thank goodness, that is something us and the land can do without. Even the sheep shearer man, who has now come, done, and gone, battled to do his work in the 90 mph gusting winds. Six fleeces this year, keeping three for spinning, the rest for composting. They were extremely clean, no dags, no mud, the recent torrential rains having showered the sheep pristine clean, but not enough to remove the lovely sweet smell which is such a delight to the senses.

 

Mr Cockerel is now strutting and parading like a General in front of his troops, the three new hens being very pleasing to his masculine self. They are farm chickens, big strong girls, nearly at laying age, and chatty already. Although not the prettiest of hens, they should give us a good solid base for our new flock. We shall develop some breed strains later on, probably the various types of Orpingtons, but that is not for now. Best to stay sensible and get the flock built up first.

Our new hens were purchased from a farmer at the market.
He had a van full, but we only bought three. They were put in a large cardboard box for transport. Three hens in the box is a safe number. Any more and the bottom of the box can give way. We know that it can do this, because last time we visited the market we bought four hens and the bottom of the box dropped out mid way across the main road. Fortunately there were no injuries.
 

While Lester concentrated on the purchasing of the hens, I wandered round the market.

And I was surprised at how much I have changed since last we visited.

Instead of looking at what was on offer from a buyer's perspective I found myself looking at the produce from a seller's perspective. It would seem that I am moving on towards being a seller of produce before we actually have produce to sell.

 

We have realised that this year is a year of learning the craft of being market gardeners, of learning the rhythm of planting, of learning how things grow, of combatting the various mini disasters relevant to our life here, (which happen most days), of learning to deal with extremes of temperature, of not giving up when a  plug tray full of  forty very happy and healthy seedlings, which I had nurtured for several weeks, became fried to death when I forgot to put the shade cover over them because I needed an afternoon nap on the hottest day of the year so far. I am not good in heat. I wilt. As did those seedling. But I survived. They did not. 

So what did I do?

Upended the dead bodies of the seedlings onto the compost heap, said a blessing over their carcasses, then immediately planted another tray, meanwhile fighting the urge to give up the gardening project forever, the words 'Don't Quit' rolling round and round in my head as I planted the batch of new seedlings.

 

 

 

The new flock, five in total now, plus nine chicks indoors.

 

One little visitor in the front garden this morning.

 

 

Milly, growing into a big girl now.

 

.

..... and Bonny asking why she is still indoors when Lissie is already out in the field.

 

Bye for now,

Vx