I’m in the queue. I’m set to go. I’ve been here since just after 6.30am. I’M READY TO GET IN AND SET UP NOW.
I need a coffee. I want to get all of the stuff out and spread it on my table and tarps and on the clothes rack. I want to get the prices written and on the stuff. I want to get people coming through, rummaging through my cast-off clothes and finding a bargain.
My stall will be a great place for all women to find a clothes bargain. There’s floaty skirts and luxurious scarves through to butch shirts and jeans to fit a range of women. I want to set it all out, make it enticing, get all my wares ready. There’s a bit of bric and brac too.
There doesn’t seem to be anyone coming to open the gate yet. I thought the market was an early starter? At this rate I’ll not be set up before 8.30am and will have missed all the early birds.
Ah, the man has come. The gate is open. The line of cars before me files in and I join the end. I hope I don’t get bogged.
Come on down. Daylesford market. In the paddock.