When Adam delved and Eve span, who was then the gentleman?
John Ball (c 1338 – 15 July 1381)
We came to work today under protest as we had planned to have a day away. Julia needs more pottery so a call on the factory shops of Stoke on Trent is in the pipeline. It’s not as good as it used to be (though I’m not quite as good as I used to be either) but we normally find some decent stuff and I’m also looking for a few bits to photograph pies on. Did I mention I have a new food blog and am shamelessly plugging it in the pursuit of more traffic?
As Number One son is now working in Leeds and Number Two son is due back at Sheffield next week we should be safe buying new crockery. You would not believe how many plates they can chip compared to the amount of washing up they do.
As so many times before, despite desperately wanting us on Wednesday, The Farmer, who does not pay us for this time, is off doing other jobs come Friday and we are totally forgotten.
We are currently being battered by the wind (just look at the swinging ice cream sign). I really don’t like wind. I can take cold or wet, but wind is so wearing. It was always noticeable when I used to frequent outdoor antique markets, that wind kept people away more effectively than rain.
The men in Sheds, having mended the old industrial toaster from the cafe, are making toasted teacakes and spreading them with the plum jam Julia made on Wednesday. She meant to do it on Tuesday but we ended up with no power. It’s very good. We sat around eating it and fermenting rebellion.
Someone came for two of the Polish crosses, though they don’t seem to understand my point that at this age I’m not prepared to guarantee they are pullets. If I was prepared to guarantee this I would want a lot more money for them. That’s how it goes. However, as The farmer has told her we will sort two out for her I had to do my best and grit my teeth.
We used to volunteer around the farm because there was an element of give and take in the relationship. Over the years, without us really noticing (a bit like the Boiling Frog) it has become more of a master servant relationship and my radical leanings are coming to the fore.
The example of local lads Robin Hood and Jeremiah Brandreth is never far from my mind, though it didn’t exactly end well for either of them.