A row of counted chickens (aka vintage kimono silk scarves) that didn't hatch (ie sell).
I have a confession to make. I am a chicken counter. If ever there is an opportunity to count my chickens I count them before you can say vintage-kimono-silk-scarf.
Yesterday I learnt my lesson. Mr greenolive is always warning me not to count my chickens and yesterday was a case of none of my chickens hatching.
It was the worst market day ever. Even worse than the infamous Black Saturday market at Red Hill. We had no sales. Yes, no sales!
Here's an overview of the worst market day ever:
• an hours drive to reach the market
• wind and rain for most of the time
• three stall layout changes due to impact of weather on scarves
• two hot beverages spilt on tablecloth
• words exchanged
• packing up an leaving two hours early
• counted chickens not hatching.
The regular market stall holders tell us there is no rhyme or reason to market trading. You need to take each day as it comes – and don't count any chickens!