Saturday morning, the alarm went off and with a quick squint out of the window to see what the weather held in store we were on the starting blocks and away with the front runners. Straight down the A488 through Bishops Castle, Clun and Knighton heading for a farm on the hillside above Llandrindod Wells to a farm sale. As we drove along, the mist that lay in the valleys was rising under the warmth of the sun; already tractors were out ploughing silhouetted against the bright light. As we clattered around the narrow streets in the little towns, an empty livestock trailer clatters like the very devil on a quiet morning, old men were walking back from newsagents shops with the daily papers neatly folded, neatly folded white paper bags hiding delectable treats for later and the obligatory old dogs on leads tottering along with resigned expressions on their grey faces.
We followed the signs up into the mist after leaving Penybont and climbed into the hills, we couldn't actually see them but just knew that they were out there somewhere. We parked in amongst a whole field of Landrovers and Ifor Williams trailers, 4x4's of every size and breed and cattle lorries. Well you dont go to a farm sale without the means to bring something home do you? The mist was really cold and heavy as we walked up to the farm, it was collars up and where's my gloves as I pushed young Toby in his pushchair across the bumpy grassy ruts and wished desperately I had worn wellies.
Within minutes the sun had disposed of the mist and I was amazed at the glorious view of the hills which make up the Radnor forest. Red kites swirled overhead, such majestic birds. I was able to watch a family of them for most of the day which was indeed a treat. They mewed to each other as they rose and drifted on the thermals - the youngsters definitely shouting 'quick look at me, look at me, look what I can do' just as youngsters do.
While the shepherd wandered with shepherd's little helper around the machinery and piles of rusty iron and useless bits of tat that always get lugged into a farm sale I sat on a draw bar of an imposing blue trailer in the sun and people watched. By this time all the fleeces were tied round middles, it just got hotter and hotter. Fresh faced girls with bouncy pony tails went by following the farm lads in their best boiler suits. Those that had come for the social occasion found friends and dutifully discussed the weather and other friends with intense expresssions and a lot of 'ooooo's' and 'ahhhhhhhh's', 'he never' and 'oh but he did'...new babies were peeped at and the growth rate of toddlers admired.
We ate our picnic on a flat trailer in the sun, Toby was totally confused because he hadn't got a plate to eat his sandwiches off - how remiss a grandma can be on a Saturday? He could not put the sandwiches down so had to hold them all squashed in chubby hands and manage as best he could while grandma laughed her socks off at his efforts! Thank goodness for wet wipes.
The shepherd had spotted some sheep he fancied and so we trailed up the field after him in the midday sun. Toby was in and out of all the pens outstretched hands to each and every one of the thousand sheep trying to make friends with just one. We plonked him in an empty pen - no 56 - just to keep him under control for five minutes but he soon worked out the escape route.
As the shepherd waited for the pen of his choice to go under the hammer I took the tiring Toby up onto the road in his chariot to get some respite from the searing heat and we wandered backwards and forwards under the shady trees, Toby dozed and I got myself chatted up by a couple of gnarled old famers who were also taking advantage of the trees to get some shade. One old farmer smiled winningly showing his two teeth and was indeed quite open with his conversation, ' You aren't from round here are you?' 'Is that yorn babby?' (not bad really in the same week as I was charged OAP rates to go into the cinema) 'Is yer husband alive?' (he wont be if he bids more than £40 for those sheep!) Whilst the other one did have a bit more finesse and a few more teeth......
He bought the sheep. We loaded them up and were back on our way to Shropshire with a sleeping Toby before I was whisked away by a two toothed Wesh farmer looking for a wife/housekeeper/shepherdess. We delivered the sheep to the fields, duly wormed, marked and tagged and then it was off to deliver Toby back home- filthy and clutching an eccles cake with grim determination desperate to find a plate - civilisation -plates- what a relief, bless him! I bet he slept well last night, I know I did!
