Sitting in the car waiting for the farmer at lunch time after my morning creating mayhem in our local coffee bar where we all meet for coffee and do make rather a noise (I thought we were quieter than usual this morning); I do a bit of shopping and then walk back to the Mart and sit and wait for the farmer. Two things struck me forcibly as I sat there.
The first of these is that farmers are not known for their sartorial elegance. All shirts are check and mostly bought from the same agricultural merchants, so that the wearers almost look institutionalised. Everyone wears a cap - and the caps are in various states of dilapidation. (my farmer has four caps - one for best and then deteriorating downwards until rock bottom is reached with number four).
And secondly - that you can tell a farmer by his walk. Without exception they drive into the Mart Car Park, usually in four tracks or pick-ups, which are almost always covered in mud from their stock yards (or worse), they step out and walk towards the Auction Ring - no - correction - roll towards the Auction Ring, because all the farmers I saw this morning walked with a rolling gait, caused I suspect by living more or less all year round in wellington boots.
I haven't painted a very attractive picture have I? Who would possibly be keen to marry a farmer after that description? Well I would for one - and I have never for one moment regretted it!