Recently, Dad and I took a now very rare trip to Gisburn Auction Mart.As the business has grown over the years, we have headed down dealing with more direct contracts, so no longer get out to marts as much.
However, as a family we miss it, especially as we used to head to the auction with Dad every school holiday.To the extent while on a weekend away in Yorkshire, my mum, dad, brother and sister once took a trip to Skipton as there was a sale day on.
But being back at the mart as an adult hit me with so much nostalgia, as they are such lively places.
As a child they are overwhelming places which make you so excited. You cannot comprehend the maze-likeness of them and there is constant shouting and banter going on, such as how much luck money did so and so give you, he is a tight git, isnt he?.
And how anyone can speak so fast and have such fast eyes to see all the bids?
I remember Dad jokingly telling me to sit still so you do not buy anything and me sitting like a statue through entire sales.Or peeringover the tall counters in the offices while Dad was collecting his paperwork and being asked are you paying?.
Of course, the best part of any trip to market was always the breakfast, the best breakfast you will ever have, usually served by the most lovely ladies who always chat away to you.
One of my favourite, funny stories is about a trip to market, when my dad took my little brother to Brock.He was only a toddler at the time and my dad ordered him a can of Tango.
The lady behind the counter said you cannot give him a can, he will cut his mouth and poured it into a polystyrene cup with a takeaway lid.
Gremlin-like state
My dad strapped him back into the car seat and they set off to go check the suckler cows on the way home.
But going down the motorway, my dad found my brother hyped up on sugar in a gremlin-like state, having just finished eating most of the polystyrene cup.
My dad had to fight the rest away from my, by that point, biting brother.
Once they arrived, he struggled to get the wriggling toddler out of the car seat, but as soon as he was on the floor he set off running, like a scene out of Braveheart, as fast as his little legs could go.
With arms flailing down the hill, he ran screaming into the middle of the suckler herd.Dad ran after him, scooping him up and vowing to never let us drink Tango again.
I think like most farm kids, trips to auctions always bring so may happy memories and are a reminder of how special these places are.
