As you may know, I spend quite a few weekends throughout the year, particularly in Summer, trading at Medieval Fayres and other events. I returned from one such event on Sunday evening and thought I’d share a little of this weird and wonderful habitat with you.
Compared with most of the other events I’ve attended this year, this one was a bit of a pup as far as trading goes. It was a multi-period event encompassing everything from Hoplites (nice knees), red Indians (nice bu…<cough>), Medieval, Tudor, Napoleonic (nice uniforms), Victorian (nice helmet) to WWII (big guns). We essentially spent 3 days watching the grass grow, then there was a sudden flurry of activity in the last couple of hours of Sunday. This is how it is sometimes – often frustrating and always unexpected.
– seeing the Third Reich arm in arm with Medieval wenches, Napoleonic regiments and GIs, high kicking (and in one case goose-stepping) to a rendition of New York, New York. Not a sight you see every day, at least not outside a Mel Brooks film set.
– catching up with the other traders (we had plenty of time to gossip!). These are a weird and wonderful bunch of people, diverse and almost invariably a good laugh (you have to have a sense of humour doing this). You’re never entirely sure who will turn up at any given event, so it is always a pleasant surprise to see someone you weren’t expecting, especially if they’ve been advertised as being elsewhere.
Warm and Fuzzy:
– doing a reading for a very down-to-earth gas fitter (and a Tarot ‘virgin’), who was, quite frankly, amazed and delighted with his reading.
A conversation with a starey-eyed chap who rolled up with a toddler clutching his hand.
Him <peering at me in a slightly disconcerting manner>: Eyes of blue, windows to the soul
Me <mumbling some vagely polite response and thinking “Here we go”>
Him: Are you a Tarot reader then?
Me: Yes, we both are
Him: Why is is £15 then?
Me: Umm, because that’s what we charge
Him: Can I have a card?
Me <shuffling off to get a business card>: yes, of course, here you are.
Him <taking the card and pocketing it>: No, I meant a card. I haven’t got any money you see.
Me <trying not wear WTF face too obviously>: Oh well, I can’t help you then. I don’t do freebies.
Him: Well I don’t really want to go there anyway. My dad was a psychic and he killed himself, so I don’t want to go there. You know?
Me <trying to suppress get me out of here face>: Oh, no I didn’t know.
Him <starting to walk away>: You’ve got a green glow
Me <getting a bit panicky, then realising he meant my aura but unable to stop the curiosity car heading for the wall as my mental brakes failed>: Really? What does that mean?
Him <nodding towards my colleague>: She’ll tell you.
Me <persisting in the face of all logic>: She doesn’t do auras. Is green good?
Him <trying to divert me>: I don’t really want to go there. My dad was a psychic and he killed himself… <walking away>Yes, green is good.
– Finding a new home for one of my corsets, which are one-off pieces. It is rather like seeing my children leave home, but people buy them because they love them so it I know they are going to a good home even though I’m sad that they have left me. The lovely lady kindly let me take a picture.
Not taking my meat spike to the people who wandered over, fingered and fumbled with the garlands before walking off leaving them in disarray. On the plus side, a mild OCD tendency meant I got a lot of exercise jumping up to rearrange them nicely again.
– typically English summer – sun, rain, heat, cold, cloud, lightning, blue skies, wind, oppressive stillness and humidity.
– managing to put up the 20′ x 12′ tent with just the two of us, being all set up and ready to trade by Friday afternoon and packing up on Sunday in just over 2 hours, including getting my sleeping bag and all the tent canvas stuffed back into its bags without turning the air blue.
– there isn’t any. Didn’t know a thing about the riots until I got back on Sunday night. Life just runs at a completely different pace in
the a field.
I’m off on my travels again in a day or so, who knows how the world will have changed by the time I return.