forget-him-not

Jack came home yesterday.

Looking at this small box, it’s hard to believe that it contains that warm, ebullient, intelligent, adorable boy with the silky, silver blue fur that I loved to bury my face into.
I know it doesn’t hold his spirit. That part of him has always been with me.

But, it is the only tangible thing I have of him now... that and the enduring love and precious memories of fifteen special years together.

The pain is still raw.  The heartache immense.
The shower has washed so many tears and sobs from me, to the point where I thought I could cry no more.
But humans have tears in an unending supply, and they seem to simmer ever so slightly below the surface at such dark times.

I know the pain will lessen, in time. And I will one day be able to smile when I think of him instead.

This spring, the garden is filled with pretty forget-me-nots.
Blue flowers for my blue boy.

I picked a posy and placed them by his side.

Sleep well my darling boy ~ you will never, ever be forgotten.

♥

THANK YOU so much for your beautiful comments and words of comfort on my previous post.  I appreciate them so very much.

Love and hugs to you all  xxx

He's gone

My darling Jack.

I can count on less than five fingers the times I’ve been away from you for more than a day in these fifteen years together.
We have travelled thousands of miles across this huge country, and lived in many different places.
My constant companion, cheerleader, keeper of secrets, studio supervisor and very best friend.

But the tyranny of time caught up with you, and wore your old body down.  Not your spirit though, not that.

Throughout these many years, you gifted me with so much love, so many laughs, such unwavering loyalty and bountiful precious memories.
And, you made me a better person.
The very least I could do was give you the ultimate gift in return… that of peace.

And so now, after all these seasons, I must walk alone without you by my side.
I have lost my shadow.

Beautiful boy, I know you won’t be crossing the rainbow bridge – how can you? You’ve never wanted to go anywhere without me.
No, you’re still here, sleeping in my heart, waiting.

And when it comes time to cross a bridge, I’ll be with you, and we’ll go together.

Sleep well my darling.

♥

Dog Days - December

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The emotional life of the dog is highly developed - more highly, indeed, than that of any other animal.

~ George Romanes 

While I agree most definitely in part with this quote, I must say that, I don’t believe “emotions” – anthropomorphically speaking – are reserved just for dogs.

And I’m absolutely sure most of you have experienced extra special relationships with many beautiful sentient creatures. Animals possess senses and knowing far beyond the limited range of our own.

I have loved animals who have displayed a very wide range of emotions.
Like my dear and incredibly intelligent British Alpine goat “Ella”.  Now, she was special…

~

Just in case anyone has wondered where I've disappeared to, I have been on the mad market merry-go-round for the past few months now, and feel drained and exhausted.

No matter how much stock I made for each market, I would sell most of it, leaving me seriously short for the following (pre-paid) stall.  Each week saw me doing overtime to come up with a full table for the weekend.

Many late nights at my studio table, staring out the window from time to time into the inky forest blackness, while the world slept.

I've existed on chocolate and coffee to get me through :)

And, it’s not over yet.

With my last Christmas market done and dusted yesterday, I must now produce for the huge New Year holiday market in January.

Having but two weeks to prep, make clay, speed dry (candling), bisque fire, glaze madly in an assortment of delicious colours, glaze fire, assemble and pack - in time for the eve of the market.

All this with Christmas smack bang in the middle. Gulp.

I’ll put in long hours, push through moments of delirium and sleep deprivation, and manage to stay on top of things – just.

 

Believe me, I’m not ungrateful, but…

… right now, at this very moment, all I really want is to be this cute kitty, blissfully content in the arms of an angel on a swing…

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♥

 

The vagaries of markets

But wait, there’s always an upside... dogs! 

My usual (and, mostly reliable) Red Hill Market closes over winter, and there are few good art/craft specific markets operating at his time.

Here in chilly, unpredictable Victoria, July/August are among the worst months to try and sell art/crafts. Unless one is fortunate to find oneself at an indoor (indie) artisans’ market in the city. And even then, enticing the brave souls - potential customers - who venture out, and who are mostly, "just browsing" as they saunter past tables en route to the café for lunch and meet up with friends, can be difficult.

Currently, my funds are low, and I need to buy clay supplies, paper bags/tissue wrap for sales, and pay (in advance) the upcoming spring and pre-Christmas market fees.
I decided on an outdoor “community market” (mostly produce, with some crafts) just under an hour’s drive away on Saturday.

It snowed the day before, a little further up on our mountain, so it was more than a wee bit chilly as hubby and I left home at 5am.
Arriving at the top of the road leading to the market grounds, we were met by an organiser, and were asked to take a number and wait – for one and a half hours – til we were allocated our stall locations at 7:30 am.

We were grateful that we didn’t need to leave the confines of our cosy car, except for a dash to the loo.
At one point, as I peered out the breath condensed passenger window into the pre-dawn darkness, the thought of snuggling up to Jack in our warm bed seemed far more alluring.

Hesitantly, and gripped in a moment of weakness, I suggested to hubby that it wouldn’t take much for me to agree to us turning around and heading back home… if that’s how he felt also? 
Really.  Knowing how much I needed to attend a market, it was very unusual - for my usually intrepid self - to even suggest such a thing.

And, as this was one of the few markets that didn't require money "up front" at the time of booking, my indecision was heightened.
My mind teemed with less than positive thoughts about precious dollars being spent on a site fee with the possibility of it not being recovered due to scant sales, and worse - with no profit to be made.

All I could think about, were the few customers that would be willing to brave the cold, wet conditions and muddy walkways, slipping and sliding past us hopeful vendors as we tried to mask pleading expressions to buy our wares. Smiles, literally, frozen on our faces.

My emotions were threatening to run away, as my reason failed to lasso them back.

With clay work still drying slowly in a damp environment at home, I really didn’t have much stock to sell.  That didn’t help my uncertainty either… "I need to be here, but, what’s the point of showing up, if there is less than usual to sell?"
Push me, pull you. My chattering oxymoronic monkey mind.

Fortunately, hubby’s comment to, "stand your (soggy) ground, and chalk it up to experience, whatever the outcome", calmed me down.
Shhhh, chatter, shhhhhh.

There were quite a few empty spaces, where stall holders had bailed on the idea of facing the day… lugging tents and trestle tables and chairs and myriad boxes, then setting up and waiting, waiting, waiting…

On the plus side, setting up keeps one warm. Although, standing/sitting/standing and trying to stay warm can be challenging, especially when you can’t even feel your toes anymore, as the chill rises up from the drenched earth.
And, I already had on two pairs of socks.

The intermittent rain, and my internal whining, continued to dampen my spirits.

Then suddenly, I thought of the multitudes of homeless and poor, who endure these conditions every day, day after day, season after wintry season.
And, the dear animals in cold tin shelters, shivering, waiting for someone to look into their soft brown eyes and bring them into the warmth of their hearts and homes.

My internal soliloquy ceased abruptly.

I sent hubby to find the coffee vendor. Happy to be on the move and keep warm, he was also (silently) happy to search for a donut van, and returned fifteen minutes later, with two coffees… and a tell-tale dusting of sugar down the front of his sweater - as if I wouldn’t know :)

Eventually, the rain eased and the grey sky lightened.
Sporadic customers, who arrived in the first couple of hours, hardly glanced in our direction as they had one, just one, purpose in mind – to fill their baskets and bags with fresh produce, and hurry home again to the comfort of their kitchens to prepare breakfast and think upon meals for the week.
Ceramics were the furthest thing from their minds.

I get it. And it’s okay.  When it’s so uninviting outside, why do anything more than bundle up warm, get to market safely and quickly, buy your farm fresh goodies and get back home ASAP?

Outdoor markets in winter can be very unpleasant. And, I have so much respect for sellers of plants and fresh produce. Throughout the year, but especially in winter.
These "small holdings" growers, toil away in frost encrusted soil, washing root crops clean in finger numbing cold water, bundle, tie, bag and box them ready for sale, then drive for miles in the dark, to a different market every weekend.
And, are rewarded by loyal customers who eagerly purchase the fruits (and veg) of their labour.

Coffee sellers and hot food vendors generally do well also.
After all, armed with a caché of delicious fresh ingredients, what’s better than a takeaway coffee or hot snack before heading back to the car?

So, to be honest, unless one has a birthday gift to consider, why stop any longer than need be, on a bleak morning, perusing for potential gifts?
Christmas is still too far away in most peoples’ minds. Gasp! "Christmas? I don’t want to even think about it", is often the cry.

Our, not so buoyant economy is also another factor. Understandably, with employment uncertainty, the rising cost of goods and services, high taxes and little confidence in our illustrious government, purse strings are drawn ever tighter these days.
Art/craft marketers must work harder to create unusual, quality pieces, and have to sell at "attractive" prices.
It’s a juggle.
Not to overprice, yet try to cover (or at the very least, meet) one’s costs.
Better to sell, than take home almost as much stock as one arrives with.
But, it’s important not to under sell one’s work either.
It’s hard graft. And at times, disheartening.

I’ve had the odd (artisan/indie) stall holder confront and accuse me of selling my work "too cheap", and making the rest of the sellers look bad by lowering prices and, "the standard" of the market, then snubbing me for the rest of the day.
Really? When I work bloody hard at what I do? I’m a perfectionist. It shows in my work. And the high praise from my customers reflects that.

Besides, let's be realistic here, it's a market, not an art show or exhibition.  People turn up with a certain amount of cash, and hope in their heart that there might be something they can afford, and be stoked to buy.

I retort that my work is "affordable", not cheap.
And, I’m not one for hoicking my prices in an uncertain economic climate, where art/craft is a luxury, not an essential.
I’ll even give my art away, to the right person, in the right circumstances. Why not pop a little magnet or brooch into the gift bag as a "thank you" to a sweet person who loves my work effusively? Or, to the dear old woman who would like to buy more from me, but can only choose one item, due to her pension restraints?

Oh well. As much as such unnecessary, petty comments hurt me at the time, I get over it. But, I’ll never understand the backstabbing and lack of community attitude, when it comes to some artists. Seriously, I could write a post on that subject alone. I’ve attended enough artisan markets, and seen enough silly behaviour from insecure (I'm sorry to say) females of a certain age. And, I won’t even get started on exclusive cliques among some groups at a market.
The "problem" lies with them. As I usually do well enough in the off season, most of the time, to get me through until spring/summer, and the flurry that is Christmas.
My regular customers return often. That’s all I need for confirmation.

I believe in, and long for, a good arts community.  I’m all for supporting my fellow marketers, and happily send buyers their way if I don’t have what they’re looking for. And, I always encourage newbie sellers, who need advice in the often scary, unsure world of self-employment at markets.
I remember the uncertainty of my first market season. Hope mixed with doubt mixed with anxiety followed by the elation of a first sale in an often intimidating environment.

Enough digressing. Get on with it!

As the cool, winter sun finally peeped through the silver clouds, and chased away the early rain, I left hubby to man our not-so-busy stall, and took the opportunity to sneak off and snap a few photos.

The deep, silty, swirling waters of the Yarra River flowed fast, as rivulets of rainwater trickled down the bushy banks.

Shiny water droplets hung in crystal teardrop clusters and mini rainbows were cast upon giant gloomy granite steps.

 

Where are all the customers? Come one, come all!

Two things I really like about this particular market...

One, that we can drive to our site and unload directly from the back of our car. No lugging heavy gear over uneven terrain and car-parks, whilst avoiding distracted drivers.
And two, the fact that dogs are allowed. Welcome even. Which is not often the case at many markets.

There were more than a few muddy paws padding the rain soaked lanes, and I clicked away at many furkids of all shapes, sizes and breeds, until my camera ran out of charge.

Later, I created a collage of canines…

Despite the still chilled air, the soft blue sky encouraged more people to come out in the remaining two hours.

Although there were many mumblings amongst marketers, when pulling down, of, "not so good takings today", I’m happy to say, that I covered my market fee and clay costs. Only just. But, I’m grateful for that, at least.

And… for my hubby’s steadfast presence on such a shivery day.
That's worth a few more donuts I think  :)

♥


 

Dog Days: August

 If you are a host to your guest, be a host to his dog also.

~old Russian proverb

 

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♥

Baby, it's cold outside

Here, in our little corner of this vast, wide world, winter has been particularly bleak.

Now, I love winter, more so than high summer, however, we’ve had endlessly wet, grey days, with icy blasts from the south west that would make an Emperor Penguin feel perfectly at home.

Sadly though, the same can’t be said for so many animals that have to endure less than comfortable conditions in their short lives.
Hungry, abused and neglected, the winter extremes are miserable for them as they try to find whatever little nook they can – if they can – to avoid the bone deep chills that come up from the ground and air around them.

Man has “domesticated” once wild, yet trusting, creatures so that they formed strong bonds, and on whom they rely heavily for nourishment and comfort.
Many are very fortunate, and live well with their humans. But, too many aren’t.


Recently, I was snuggled up in bed with Jack beside me one frosty, foggy morning.

I watched him as he slept. His amber tinted paws and velvety black ears twitching in a doggy dream.

Daring not to disturb his deep slumber, I whispered, “you are one of the lucky ones, my baby”.

I mentally counted his “resting stations” throughout the house. Soft, comfy spots to ensure he has a place to ease his old bones.
There are six. Not including our bed. To a dog and a cat, this revered of all domains, is pride of place in the home.
The inner sanctum where the heads of their tribe sleep.

When hubby gets up (usually around 4:30am), Jack leaves his plump bed by my dresser and comes to the side of our bed to be picked up, where he’ll curl contentedly next to me as I snooze for a little while longer.

A little after dawn that morning, I woke and stared through the window at the trees outside as heavy fog gripped their branches with misty tendrils. I thought about how animals are faring “out there” in the cold, while we lay toasty and warm.

A luxury often taken for granted.

I believe in synchronicity. And, on that day, I saw a plea for bedding donations on the Pet’s Haven Animal Shelter facebook page.

This spurred me to search online for doonas/duvets.
Even though markets have been few and far between in the winter, I decided that the pennies I’d been squirreling away for a rainy day (I was saving for some kitchen utensils), should be used for a better purpose instead.

And this, was that rainy day.

I saw Kmart was selling cosy and washable bedding at great prices. So, my son (home on term break) and I took a trip there, and came out with an armload of S/B doonas and a snuggly pet bed.

Score another point for synchronicity…

I very rarely go to shopping malls or chain stores like Kmart.  So, what were the chances that I would bump into a friend, who I hadn’t seen since Christmas – outside that very store that I rarely go to, at that very moment on that particular day?
My friend said that she herself rarely went to this store also.

It just so happens that she “owes” me twelve dollars. I was never interested in having it paid back. I told her all those months ago, that she could “buy me a coffee”, whenever we caught up again.

As my friend pulled the money from her purse, I said I’d be ever grateful if she would go back in and pick up a dog bed instead. I told her with a smile, “then, we’re square”.
Done.

And so, with cushiony billows of warmth, my son and I headed home.

 Are these all for me, mum?

No sweetie, they go to those less fortunate than you :)

Pet's Haven Animal Shelter is a non-government funded, “pro life” organization that rescues and re-homes cats and dogs of all ages that would otherwise have no future - or a very bleak one.
Volunteers and foster carers offer their time and love freely in the hope of giving these animals a better chance to live a long, and most importantly, happy life with loving families.
Their site regularly posts updates and “happy home tails” of cats and dogs in their new, forever homes.

Seeing as Pet’s Haven is a two hour drive from home, I considered taking our donated bedding to one of their “drop off points”.  But, when I told hubby of my plans that evening, he chipped in with, “I’ll take you to the shelter on the weekend. It’ll be a nice drive and we can get coffee after”. Sweet.

We set out for the country town of Woodend on Sunday.
When we dropped off our bundle of bedding, I asked one of the volunteers if it would be alright to say hello to the cats and dogs awaiting adoption, and asked for permission to take pictures.

Walking around the cages and enclosures, our hearts grew heavy.

To think these beautiful creatures were once malnourished, abused, neglected, or awaiting time on the pound’s death row, before being taken in by this generous shelter, fed and cared for, ready for adoption.

Staring out at us, there was a glimmer in their eyes - a soul's spark, with an unending capacity to please and to love.  Even now, after all they have been through.

Fighting the rising lump in his throat, hubby could take it no longer and told me he’d wait outside until I was ready to leave.

As it was the middle of the day, quite a few were snoozing and not interested in coming forward.
They looked so peaceful.

Some of the more energetic little dogs were being prepared for a walk.

I continued on. Then, I saw this gentle young lady named, Zoe.

Instantly, she captured my heart with an endearing look of hope that I might well be her new family.
And, it nearly killed me to know that I couldn’t bring her home.

I sat with her for the longest time. She would make such a lovely companion.
She has trust in her heart, regardless of the circumstances which led her to be rescued. 

The look in her eyes haunts me still.
I was awake at 1:30 this morning, crying. Thinking of her. There was a connection.
Turning my back and leaving was so very difficult.

I walked out into the grey winter light, blinking back tears.

Hubby and I drove in silence, as we searched for a place to sit and collect ourselves.
Coffee - good coffee - helps at times like these.

It was a rather solemn drive home.

Our “doona run to Woodend”, will become a ritual journey at the beginning of every winter from now on, along with donations to help out whenever I can.


If anyone has old quilts, blankets, pillows, cushions or towels - please, please consider gifting them to your local animal shelter.
There are many ways to support them.
I know most people who read my blog already do, I’m sure, and have opened their hearts to a lucky orphan or two.  Homeless no more.

Most shelters rely on the kindness of good folk to help, in any way they can.
Every little bit helps, as the costs of food, shelter, transport, advertising and veterinary bills continue to rise at an alarming rate.

Saving one animal will not change the world.

But for that one animal, the world will change forever.

Goodnight sweet Zoe  xxx

♥

Dog Days: July

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Whosoever loveth me, loveth my hound.

~ Sir Thomas More

Happiness is...

Happy dogs!!

Found a few awesome videos this morning, and had to share this one.
'cos I'm happeeee...

Watch with the sound on, if you can, and bop along.

Wait, what?  Is that a cat among all those dogs??  Sure is! That's "Didga", the clever Aussie cat.


*If you have trouble accessing the video, you can click on this link...

happy dogs

There are fewer things better in life than happy animals... well, I think so anyway :D

Enjoy!

*Credit to Robert Dollwet - awesome trainer and animal rescuer extraordinaire :)
You can check out his website here - Malibu Dog Training

♥

Dog Days: June

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A dog can express more with his tail in seconds than his owner can express with his tongue in hours.

~Author Unknown

♥

 

Pet therapy

I've been feeling a little blue and out of sorts lately.  And, as today is my birthday, my sweet son sent me this clip of, dogs reacting to cats sleeping in their beds.

I'm sure many of you have seen this video.   I hadn't, and got a kick out of it.  The desired result of smiles, giggles - and tears, made me feel much better.

For those who'd like to watch the often hilarious, and heartwarming, relationship between cats and dogs in a home, here it is. *Turn the sound on and watch in "fullscreen" if you can.

Just when you think cats have total dominion over their kingdom, the tables turn, and the dogs win out..... for now :)

♥

Dog Days: May

My little old dog - a heartbeat at my feet.

~ Edith Wharton

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♥

Dog Days: April

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If a dog will not come to you after having looked you in the face, you should go home and examine your conscience.

~ Woodrow Wilson

♥

Dog Days: March

His ears were often the first thing to catch my tears.

 ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning, referring to her cocker spaniel, Flush

 These velvet black ears have caught many of my tears over the years.

♥

 

Dog Days: February

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The one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him and the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous, is his dog.

~ Senator George Graham Vest

If you have time, please go to the link I'll provide below to read (then lawyer) Vest's heartwarming, and rending, eulogy of the dog, in response to the sad shooting of a beautiful hound dog.

His speech delivered to the court at the trial of Old Drum, became known as, "one of the most enduring passages of purple prose in American courtroom history", and the most memorable tribute in modern history to dogs, reducing the jury and most of the court to tears.

Click here and scroll down to read his eulogy and more about the trial.

Interesting to note, this speech is the origin of the phrase known the world over...

"man's best friend is his dog".

If you are interested in learning more about the trial in full, you can read further, here.

♥

Dog Days

I love calendars. There are always more than one in our house.
I have one by the computer, which serves to remind me when market and other associated fees are due, and supplies need to be bought, seeing as I pay online.

One in my studio, always art related, where I make little notes on what I create, what I need to prepare for, and which days I will be either bisque or glaze firing.

And, one main calendar in the kitchen, on the pantry door. This is the household day keeper. Where birthdays, appointments, events and general reminders are written.

Ever since Jack came into our lives, we've had a "Blue Heelers" version every year - it's now a tradition. Any other calendar just wouldn't be right somehow :)

I try to avoid the big shopping centres before Christmas (shudder), and after the New Year sales craze has died down, I'll venture in and find the sole remaining calendar vendor, usually near the food court.
By then, the calendars are up to 50% off. And there are always plenty of dog/cat/animals still available.
The calendars we buy usually have short quotes at the bottom of the month - lovely odes from man to dog.

This year, I thought it might be nice to include them here on my blog.

When I turn the page on the first of each month, I'd like to post the quote as well.
I'm sorry to be so dog-centric, and perhaps it might be nice if I also found some quotes to add in from time to time, on beautiful cats and other dear animals. Goats too, I love goats. But not too sure how many quotes there are on goats. I should look that up... goat quotes :D

And so, here is January's quote:

Until one has loved an animal, a part of one's soul remains unawakened.

~Anatole France

This one speaks for all animals, not just dogs. And I so agree, don't you?

♥

Buskers end and happy tales

The Belgrave Buskers Festival was celebrated on the (official) last Saturday of summer.

When we arrived in the afternoon for the twilight market, the last of the bands were wrapping up, sadly. We had hoped that the music would continue for a little longer. Most of the entertainment was staged in various places throughout the town and ended at Earthly Pleasures Café where the market was to be held.

As we were setting up our stall, people descended on us for a look and a lot of sales were made.
So, in between unpacking and placing up on the table, we were almost just as quickly, selling and wrapping clocks, vases, pendants and brooches.

Luckily, I had enough jewellery on hand to replace those sold, but not enough clocks and vases to re-stock the display. Poor planning on my behalf - note to self for the future :)

I was, and am ever-always, grateful for the help of hubby in the setting up and pulling down of my stall.  And, when he can stay around, his wrapping of sales is so appreciated - I think we make a great team!

We were placed down by the entrance in the front garden along the wrought iron fence. And, with my back to the road, I could while away the afternoon gazing upon the lovely stone manor – always a treat.

When the stall was up, I managed to pop up to the rear gardens near the old stables and take a few pics* and to catch up with my friend, Elizabeth Stevens.
Elizabeth takes lovely photographs throughout Victoria, creating and selling them as postcards and gift cards. 

In between sales, Elizabeth serenaded the marketeers and customers in the secluded cloistered gardens with softly sung and gently strummed folk classics on her guitar, adding to the relaxed ambiance.

After the initial rush, all was quiet and hubby left for a while. I took in the atmosphere and enjoyed the dappled sunlight through the trees, grateful, as we didn’t take a market tent.

It was during this time that two young lads, I’d say between seven and nine years old, came over after eyeing my, you-can’t-miss-it-purple table cover and the colourful goodies from a distance.

After asking the price of each item, they looked increasingly disappointed as they surveyed their pockets of change. Their wee faces were so forlorn.

I asked them if there was something on the stall that they liked. They pointed out a number of items, but were sad that they couldn’t buy any of them. One of the boys told me, “I only have a few cents”, and the other chimed in with a “me too”.

I had a notion of why they were at my stall, and my thoughts were confirmed when they told me that they wanted to, “buy something nice for our mum”.

The two of them, standing at my table, each with a small handful of coins in their hands and expressions like Oliver Twist holding his empty bowl forth, tugged at my heartstrings.

I told them, that if they wanted to, they could choose any magnet from my trusty, rusty old display tea kettle, and, pay me what they could afford.

As I said this, I delighted in watching their faces light up, followed by the concentration on making their important decision in choosing “just the right one”.

There was much discussion between them before they settled on a pretty bird magnet in, “the colour that mum loves”.

I said, “you must love your mum a lot”.

Without hesitation, and in unison, they replied, “we do… she’s the best!”

Now, I know I could have picked out a piece and given it to them – and I have no hesitation in donating or giving some of my smaller items free of charge, but in this instance, I felt that the boys wanted to actually purchase something. I think it was important to them, as they could truly say they “bought” a gift for their mum, which would have given that gift, no matter how small, a kind of value in their eyes.

And, they were passing up a bag of lollies for it! I was honoured :)

So, I waved them off with the biggest smiles on their faces, one happily clutching their nicely wrapped purchase. And, as I popped 65¢ into my cash box, I wondered who had the biggest smile, me or the boys.

That pretty much made my day.

And I thought, as much as I love to sell to people who like my stuff enough to buy it without hesitation (which is an honour in itself), it’s the little experiences that make what I do, whenever I can do, worth it.

The favourite ‘character’ of the day - for me - was surprisingly, not a busker or a wandering artist. But, a dog.
A three legged dog.

This dear wiry, wheaten fellow spent much of the afternoon loping from person to person, stall to stall with a grin on his whiskery face and a plea to play in his eyes.

 

I have a very soft spot for wiry haired “muttleys”. I guess because I have loved Irish Wolfhounds for as long as I can remember. I thought, surely this boy looks as though he has some wolfhound and maybe some lab and/or active kelpie in him?

I asked his owner for his story. It turns out that he was indeed part wolfhound.

He - sadly, I forgot to ask his name, an oversight for me, as I like to know dogs’ names - was a rescue dog who’d had his leg broken as a pup and, due to years of neglect, was turned into a shelter, his back leg badly distorted.

His lovely new people tried very hard to heal his leg, with some success. But in the end, the decision was made to have it removed as there was too much long term damage.

I was told this sturdy, stoic boy was up and running around in three days. He has apparently never looked back ever since then and is a much loved member of their family.

A happy ending from sad beginnings. A heart-warming tale.

Towards late afternoon, as the crowds dispersed, the music-related stalls in our area took down their displays and many ventured off to the taverns and bars in town where the music continued into the evening.

In the front gardens, there remained just our stall, a shiatsu massage tent, lovely hand-made childrens clothing and a little further away, a talented on-the-spot portrait artist.

Looking down from the old building, our lone display did stand out!

A bohemian purple beacon on summer-parched earth among old shady trees in the warm golden afternoon.

Curious people enjoying a meal, later sauntered down for a look and thankfully, some last minute purchases.

So all in all, we didn’t do too badly. 

I’m happy to say it was a lovely end to the day and although it wasn't a bustling market, I was more than content to spend my time in such a lovely environment.

Holding a market was a new venture for the good people at Earthly Pleasures, and was trialled in conjunction with the Buskers Fest.

Hopefully, they will consider making it a stand-alone affair with more stalls in the near future. It’s a magical venue and, once word gets out among the locals that there will be further markets, it will go from strength to strength - new markets always take some time to develop a good reputation.

With gear safely packed in the car, we ended the day with a great cup of coffee and for me, a favourite treat - a little homemade cube of Turkish Delight.

Glancing back at the shadow cast stone walls, I secretly hoped that one day soon, I’ll be back again, in “market mode”.

♥

* I would have liked to include more market images on this post, but some stall holders declined my request to place photos of their stalls on my blog.