As a child, my mother often took me to the village jumble sale. I remember the stampede of people that crowded into the small church hall seeking a bargain. It was a frightening experience and I often hid beneath the tables which were piled high with clothes, books and bric-a-brac.
It was those times beneath the tables, that I discovered my love of books. There were endless amounts to choose from but Enid Blyton’s famous five were my favourite. And although I was very young, I could read them quite well. By the time I was eight, I was writing adventures stories and reading them to the hoards of rabbits that lived in our barn. Those old books are still with me and sit on the shelves at our home for waifs and strays.
Jumble sales were once a big part of village life and still are where I live in Wales. It is a great way to raise money for charities and one can have hours of fun picking up amazing bargains.
When people come to visit our home for waifs and strays, there is always a story to tell about many of the items that I bought at a charity shop or a jumble sale.