One of those days.

Well, well, well, well. Well.

What a day today turned out to be, yes I am going to have a rant. I don't know if it's because I'm a redhead or because I may just be a bit of a crochety old bag. But it all happened today.

Today was market day, those of you who are regular readers you will be familiar with these outings. Those of you new to my blog, let me explain, a local market started up a few months ago and advertised for stall holders of local goods – Sharon had the brainwave that this was just what we at the coven had all been talking about – somewhere to sell excess knit items.

And it has been a small success, nobody's become a millionaire out of it, but we have had some sales, and generally a good gossip and some serious knitting time.

Today, aside from the fact that it was quite blah weather we (Sandra D, Ms Stash and myself) turned up for the market, it started to rain so we had to rush to move the stall back under cover. Wet knit wear is not promising sales wise.

Then the irrepressable Cindy arrived and there were 4. There was much talking and lots of news. Cindy told us how she had told off some able bodied people without a disability permit for parking in the disabled bay. Which we all heartily agreed upon. That's one of my pet peeves.

Then Cindy went off to do some shopping and this woman (who shall hence forth be known as Crotchety Old Bag aka COB for short) appeared round the corner and announced we were all making too much noise and it was difficult to hear on the phone let alone think.

I did what I do best in these situations, I ignored her and knitted. As most other things I am prone to do in these situations Ms Stash always tells me off for.

Cindy returned more talking ensued, and then there was a knocking sound I noticed when I was looking round so did Cindy so she must have heard it and then we went back to yaffling.

Then I spied COB out puffing on a cancer stick, having a conversation at a level the entire market could have heard with someone standing all of about a half a meter away.

Soon as she disappeared – flicking her cigrette butt on the ground I might add, another of my pet peeves. I was whispering to Cindy how the COB had come out after she'd gone to the bakery and told us we were all making so much noise she couldn't think.

About a minute later, the grand wizard for the market appeared at our stall and told us that “the lady in the office was doing some critical computer work and she had asked us nicely to be quiet, she didn't want to cause any problems, but we needed to be quiet.”

How f*****g precious can you be? How she works when the market isn't on and the square reverts to a car park I don't know. All those cars driving around and through, car doors being slammed and I am sure people are talking then as well.

Instantly made me think of a former co-worker who was a bit precious and would have coped so much better if we had elimanted all face to face contact, telephones and anything that required a great deal of thought.

The first two solutions would have overcome the problem of her not listening to anything anyone else actually said.

But I digress, I got annoyed, very annoyed. May be the red hair, may be I was a COB, but I announced I would not stay and would not be back. Being treated like naughty school children. Be quiet? I am a little uncertain about this one, were we meant to sit in silence for the rest of the market? I am also also considerable pissed off, that if we were making so much noise where we were they didn't offer to help us move somewhere else in the market with our stall.

Then Sharon arrived and then there were 5. We were all trying to whisper loudly enough so she would hear on her way over to us that she couldn't talk.

Which led to more discussion about COB, and we all decided to pack up and go home since we had had no customers and it looked like it was going to fully rain.

After we've all packed up we were standing out in the car park whispering with Sharon catching upon all the gossip. And one of the other stall holders was packing up near by making a bit of noise, when Cindy noticed the COB was at the window staring through the blinds at us. Sharon being the most polite, friendly member of the group waved and sung out goodbye her.

Maybe it was just the weather for them, because at one point another COB was on the other side of the market shouting at a woman running a stall before marching past us and back around the corner somewhere. What????

I don't understand people who go round shouting abuse at people in public. That's not saying I wouldn't do it, had I been in a lesser mood this morning I would have got stuck into it with our COB.

I still think we should have taken her, there was only 1 of her and 5 of us. Not to mention smoking those cancer sticks she would have been fair game.

I actually successfully finished the toe on the first Sister Sock, now I have picked up the stitches for the heel it almost a completely finished sock. I just need a completely finished sock that matches one of the other 3 now. No tot mentio the half finsihed Feather and Fan, the Sock Curse has struck again I am three stiches short as I am about to start the heel. NOOOOOOOOOOO!

Until next time,
Suzi
A bona fide angry red head and damn cranky about everything!