In Wagga if you get to the markets at 9 o'clock things are just starting up. It's a really good time to arrive and grab the good stuff (though sadly not the CSU ricotta which has been unavailable for months). In Sydney if you get to the markets at 9 you've obviously slept in but there should still be some good stuff left. At the village growers markets you can arrive at 9 and admire the produce and the variety, but you cannot purchase a thing. Not a button mushroom until 10am. Rules are Rules. Even if you are drenched and unlikely to return due to the continuing (unrelenting) downpour. Sigh. One stallholder commended me for coming out in the rain, calling me a plucky mum but still wouldn't sell me anything. Later that day an old school friend of S, Jamie told us that it's the same at supermarkets. They will let you in early so you can browse but not buy anything till it's time. No exceptions.
So with a heavy heart and a very light shopping bag we trudged back to the manor. By the time we got back I was saturated. Jack was dry and warm except for his socks...some of those puddles are very deep. And here's a picture (don't I look happy?) Mum said she wanted to see more photos of me on here but I'm not sure if this is what she had in mind.
S had had a lovely sleep and a most helpful dream. Now when I dream I dream of really bizarre things. Just after we arrived here I dreamt that I was birdwatching with Bill Oddie and had my photo taken with him. I thought to myself (in the dream) that this meant I only had to get a photo of Graeme Garden and I had the complete set owing to my parents getting me a signed photo of Tim Brooke- Taylor (that last bit is real).S on the other hand has amazingly straightforward dreams where he works out mathematical problems or fixes his golf swing and it invariably works. He woke up, had brekky and a shower and then wrote out his dream solution. At least some one had a successful morning.
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