Hobbled

It's been a week. Mostly of normality; and not. The not began last Saturday. As I turned from putting the last bits on the back of the bakkie I put my foot down badly, and on to the edge of a growing depression in the driveway. The result: I rolled my foot and hit the deck like a ton of bricks. The Husband had gone back to the house and I managed to hobble across the driveway to the garden bench. In agony. When he came back out, I promptly sent him back in with instructions to collect the strongest painkillers he could find and return with them and a glass of water. I know, from past experience that a bad sprain is best managed by beginning to walk it off. I knew, too, it wasn't broken. It's about 21 years since I last had a bad sprain - that's a story in itself, for another time - it happened in Japan.

I gathered myself, opened the gate, closed the gate and we headed to the market. There had been no question of not doing it and, once the painkillers kicked in, I managed.

Was it worth it?

Hell yes! It was one of the best more lucrative markets of the year - especially given that it's not traditionally a busy time of the year.

That said, this weekend just ending saw the annual Run- and Ride2Nowhere. After last year's event, I lamented not just the disruption but how little impact - economically speaking - it had on the village. This year was no different. I'll come back to this. What was different was how we dealt with the market. As I may have mentioned, when I joined the market, there were fewer than 10 of us. Nine years later, there are 21 making it very difficult to "up sticks" and move. Over the years we have used different spaces and none of them, for a range of reasons, have worked or been ideal. None of those spaces, now, is big enough for all of us. We had to, ahem, think out of the box. What ended up happening is summarised below:

So, that's what we did: we effectively lined both sides of the portion of what is our high street:

It was a gloomy, overcast spring day. Beyond the intersection you can see the visitors' cars parked, leading to the race "village". That the sun wasn't shining was a mixed blessing: there's very little shade and it meant that we could, comfortably extend our trading for an hour. Which we did and by so doing, brought our takings to roughly what we'd have expected for a "normal" mid-month market.

In the jar this week, was my Moroccan roasted butternut and lentil salad - a favourite of ours, and my customers.

This is my stall - set up and ready. Part of my readiness, I admit, was a dose of painkillers. My foot is on the mend, but not right. The market was day two on it after having spent Friday on it doing my usual market preparation. Saturdays are longer days, too, because I take to the kitchen at 6am before heading to the market a couple of hours later.

Between my stall and my pal, Trish's stands The Husband. Behind us, a home and also a great thrift shop, Romantiek.

The best part of the day? The fun of being in a different spot and interacting with the people who run the shops and establishments in front of which we stood. One of the people behind the McGregor Art Circle that exhibits in a garden in the next block, made this video.

Did you spot me?

After heading home, unpacking and having a very late brunch and a catch up of the events in Britain (I'm still not sure whether I'll write about it...), I headed for my usual Saturday afternoon catch up. The local was like a morgue. A friend popped in after catering a birthday - with some of the leftovers.

The most delicious "leftover" treat. Chocolate I can mostly leave. I am so glad I was persuaded to taste some of this divine chocolate torte. My market pal, Trish, is justifiably famous for these: I have to admit that I'd have more and I admit, too, that it would be delicious with a glass of good red. As it was, it didn't do too badly with a local sauvignon blanc.

This was the scene around the time that this pub usually fills with both locals and visitors. This weekend, expecting the hoards, the locals stayed away. That not one visitor crossed the threshold in the three hours I caught up with my mates, says something about the economic gain, for local visitors, of imported biking and trail running events.

A bunch of us plan to do something about this.

Oh, and thank you for asking: the foot, now in a supportive sock, held up and is now up with a hotwater bottle keeping it comfortable. It's gone from red, to purple and now beginning to yellow: although I'm still somewhat hobbled, it's getting betterer every day.

Until next time, be well
Fiona
The Sandbag House
McGregor, South Africa

Photo: Selma
Post script

If this post might seem familiar, it's because I'm doing two things:

• re-vamping old recipes. As I do this, I am adding them in a file format that you can download and print. If you download recipes, buy me a coffee. Or better yet, a glass of wine....?
• and "re-capturing" nearly two years' worth of posts.

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• Join Hive using this link and then join us in the Silver Bloggers' community.

Original artwork: @artywink

• lastly, graphics are created using partly my own photographs, images available freely available on @hive.blog and Canva.