The bored young woman, sitting with her legs folded and a clipboard perched on them, looked at her watch and gave a nod. Immediately two gates were raised, two nervous sheep were shoved out, two burly farmers grabbed them and with electric shears began to divest them of their wool in an exceedingly brusque manner. The animals wriggled and squirmed but were unable to release themselves from the grip of their determined barbers as they were held first upside down, then flipped over, then on their side. The shearing on the right finished first after only a minute or so, the demon barber releasing it, standing straight and carefully keeping a grin of triumph from sliding onto his face.
I was at the Dinas Mawddwy Show. Every village here holds their annual Show around this time of year, some large affairs, some more low-key like this one. Being a sheep farming district, these woolly ruminants form a fairly central element of the Show what with the speed-shearing and sheepdog trials but there was also an archery competition (the target placed just below the hedge of the lane above making the mere act of walking along it something of a suicidal act), horse-riding competitions, dog competitions, vegetable competitions, and when you're tired of all this competing you can simply peruse the stalls of local produce selling herbs, honey, beeswax soaps, jewellery, and the like.
The week just gone has seen several of my niggling concerns put to rest, or at least on their way to being resolved. One of them, for instance, is: if I grow fruit and veg next year, where am I actually going to sell it? The weekly market at Machynlleth has a local cooperative stall but is thirteen miles away, you have to stay there all day to take unsold produce home and the stall possibly has enough veg to meet demand already. Ideally I would sell my veg more locally, to the inhabitants of Mallwyd and Dinas Mawddwy. I asked the owner of the shop at Mallwyd's petrol station (the only local shop) if she would be willing to sell some of my veg next year, and her reply was yes, she would try! Can't say fairer than that.
And as I walked into the Show the first person I saw was a big dreadlocked chap called Peter* who had once picked me up hitch-hiking back from Mach, and the first thing he said to me was did I want to help him start up a local cooperative growing and selling fruit and veg, possibly with a veg box delivery scheme? Um, yes!
The big news of course this week is that the local pub, the Brigand's Inn, has re-opened. Those of you who have avidly followed this blog since April (yes both of you) will remember the shock of its unexpected closure back in May as I lost my nearest social meeting hub and WiFi access. The new manager has smartened it up a little more, including the food prices which do make your eyes smart, and seemed open to the idea of buying in locally grown veg when asked about it by Peter and myself. However I can't get my laptop to connect to the internet on their WiFi for some reason.
More of my worries answered:
1) Where to get enough cardboard to mulch my rapidly enlarging growing area? The friendly shop manager at the petrol station said I can take as much cardboard as I need each week from now on.
2) Where can I get an affordable greenhouse from? I found one for sale on eBay only forty miles away that I won for the princely sum of £38. So last week I drove there with Peter who'd offered to help and together we dismantled it and brought it back in my trailer.
3) How will I stop the pheasants from eating all the veg seedlings as they grow next year? Johnny* the chief gamekeeper offered to construct a huge fully enclosed cage, with netting across the top, around the whole area.
It all begins to seem a little more achievable.
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| Caravan in the woods |
*Not their actual names.
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