Mr Grumpy’s Monthly Market Mutterings
June: Halfway Through, Dodgy Weather, Football Nonsense, Car Shows, Lost Cherry & Cherry Bakewell Chocolate

Well then, June’s halfway through, isn’t it?

Somehow we’re already in the middle of the month, which is worrying because I still feel like I’ve only just got over May. My knees are clicking, my back’s making noises it definitely didn’t make in my twenties, and every time I look at the calendar there’s another market, another email, another job, or another message asking something that was already written in the post, on the poster, in the booking form, and probably shouted into the wind by a tired man holding a clipboard.

Still, onwards we go.

Because apparently sitting in silence with a brew, a packet of biscuits, and a face like thunder isn’t classed as a proper business plan. Shame really, because I’d be bloody excellent at that.

June has already been a busy one for R.S.H Artisan MarketsR.S.H Artisan Markets, with Yorkshire Market , White Rose Shopping Center , Skipton Artisan Market , Settle Artisan Market , and the added bonus of the Skipton Car Show, which brought even more folk into town.

And we’re not finished yet, because Haworth Artisan Market is still to come.

So there’s still time for June to behave itself.

Although judging by the weather, football chat, and general nonsense of life, I’m not holding my breath.

What’s Happened So Far This Month

June’s already given us plenty across the markets.

We’ve had White Rose, Skipton, and Settle all doing their bit, bringing together independent traders, makers, bakers, creators, crafters, food stalls, gifts, candles, chocolates, bakes, treats and all the lovely stuff that makes folk stop and say, “Ooooh, that’s nice,” while their other half stands behind them holding bags and looking financially wounded.

And of course, Skipton Artisan Market landed alongside the Skipton Car Show, which meant the town had that proper busy buzz about it.

Cars, crowds, market stalls, food, gifts, makers, visitors, and folk wandering about looking at shiny motors while pretending they know exactly what’s under the bonnet.

I don’t.

If it starts, stops, and doesn’t make a noise like a washing machine full of spanners, that’s enough engineering knowledge for me.

But it was cracking to see Skipton busy, with people making a proper day of it — having a wander round the cars, visiting the market, supporting traders, grabbing food, and enjoying the town.

That’s what these days should be about.

Local events working together, bringing people in, and giving folk a reason to get off the sofa, put proper shoes on, and spend a few quid with independent businesses.

There’s been proper graft from traders, customers coming out to support local, and plenty of brilliant products on show.

And believe me, there’s plenty goes on behind the scenes.

Early starts.
Late finishes.
Loading cars.
Unloading cars.
Gazebos.
Tables.
Weather checks.
Messages.
Emails.
Stall plans.
Traders asking where they are.
Customers asking what time it starts when it’s written in letters big enough to be seen from space.

It’s a glamorous life, this market organising lark.

Really glamorous.

Like showbiz, but with more cable ties, damp socks, and lower back pain.

And we’re not done yet, because Haworth Artisan Market is still to come — so if you’ve not managed to visit us yet this month, there’s still chance to come and have a proper Yorkshire wander.

What’s Been Good

The good bit is simple.

People are still turning up and supporting independent traders.

And that matters more than folk realise.

Every time someone buys a candle, a cake, a piece of jewellery, a jar of chutney, a dog treat, a soap, a print, a wax melt, a brownie, a bag of fudge, a chocolate bar or anything handmade, they’re helping keep a small business going.

Not a massive chain.

Not some billionaire sat on a yacht naming his third helicopter.

A real person.

Someone who’s probably been up since daft o’clock, packed the car in a mood, forgot their lunch, couldn’t find the card reader, spilt coffee down themselves, and still turned up smiling.

Mostly.

Markets are about more than shopping. They’re about having a wander, meeting makers, trying something different, supporting local, and finding things you don’t see in every big shop where everything looks the same and costs more than your first car.

And the Skipton Car Show helped show exactly what happens when a town has plenty going on. People come out. They wander. They browse. They spend. They talk. They make a day of it.

That’s good for the town, good for the traders, good for the cafes, good for the shops, and good for anyone who likes seeing places busy instead of stood empty while everyone complains there’s “nowt happening.”

Because when there is summat happening, you’ve got to support it.

Radical idea, I know.

And while we’re talking about what’s been good, it’s about bloody time Kevin Sinfield got his knighthood.

All he’s done is run himself into the ground, raise millions for MND, stand by his mate Rob Burrow, inspire half the country, show what loyalty actually looks like, and remind folk that proper heroes don’t need to shout about it every five minutes.

But aye, best not rush these things, eh?

Only took him showing more heart, grit and decency than most of us could manage with two good knees and a week off work.

So yes — Sir Kevin Sinfield.

Proper deserved.

And if that doesn’t make you proud to be from round here, you’ve probably got your heart stored in a biscuit tin under the stairs.

Right, moving on before I get emotional and have to pretend I’ve got dust in my eye.

And let’s be honest, all of that is still better than going to the supermarket and wondering how bread, milk and a packet of ham now require a small loan and a meeting with a financial advisor.

What’s Been Rubbish

What’s been rubbish so far this month?

Weather and football.

There. Done.

But apparently I’ve got to expand on it, because “weather’s been crap and football fans need calming down” isn’t classed as a full blog section.

The weather has been absolutely all over the place. One minute it’s cracking flags, next minute the sky’s gone darker than my mood when someone says, “Can I just ask a quick question?” and then proceeds to ask twelve.

You spend all week checking the forecast like some bargain-bin Michael Fish, refreshing apps, looking at wind speeds, checking rain radar, staring at clouds like you can intimidate them into behaving.

And for what?

Because June just does what it wants anyway.

Sun. Rain. Wind. Sticky heat. Sudden showers. Clouds that look threatening but do nowt. Sunshine that appears just as you’ve put your coat on.

It’s like the weather’s being run by someone who’s lost the plot and had three strong coffees.

And then there’s football.

Bloody football.

Now look, I don’t mind football. I’ll watch a match. I’ll enjoy a goal. I’ve even been known to shout at the telly like every other middle-aged bloke who thinks he knows better than an international manager because he once won the league on FIFA in 2009.

But some folk need to get a grip.

The way people talk about it, you’d think the entire future of civilisation depends on whether someone tracked back properly in the 73rd minute.

Grown adults stood there with veins popping out their heads, arguing about formations, penalties, VAR, substitutions, tactics and whether someone “wanted it enough.”

Wanted it enough?

I wanted a brew, a sit down, and five minutes without hearing about bloody extra time, but apparently my dreams don’t matter.

“Should’ve brought him on earlier.”

“Wrong formation.”

“Ref were useless.”

“VAR’s ruined it.”

“He didn’t show enough passion.”

Aye, well my knees haven’t shown enough passion since 2014, but I’m still turning up.

It’s a game. A shouty, stressful, expensive game where millionaires kick a ball about while the rest of us stand around acting like the world’s ending because someone missed from twelve yards.

So yes, weather’s been rubbish, football chat’s been relentless, and my patience is now thinner than supermarket ham.

And that’s saying summat, because you can practically read a newspaper through that stuff these days.

Market Round-Up

June has already given us plenty to shout about across the markets.

White Rose brought the indoor comfort, which is always appreciated when the weather’s acting like it’s had a disagreement with itself. Plenty of traders, plenty of customers, and that lovely bit of shopping centre footfall where folk wander in for one thing and end up leaving with handmade gifts, food, candles and possibly no idea what just happened.

Skipton was another busy one, and with the Skipton Car Show happening too, the town had a proper buzz about it. The canal basin gave us a cracking setting, the car show brought extra visitors into town, and between the motors, the market, the shops, the cafes and the general hustle and bustle, it felt like one of those days where Skipton really shows what it can do.

There were folk looking at cars, folk browsing stalls, folk grabbing food, folk asking questions, and probably folk pretending they understood engines by nodding seriously at open bonnets.

I did the same.

No shame in it.

Just stand there, nod, and say, “Aye, tidy that.”

Works for most things.

Settle had that proper market town feel. Good people, good stalls, lovely surroundings, and plenty of reasons to make a day of it. Cafes, shops, pubs, walks, views — the sort of place where you can have a browse, spend a bit, get a brew, and pretend you’re not absolutely shattered by the time you get home.

And now we’ve still got Haworth Artisan Market to come.

Haworth always brings its own character. Cobbles, history, visitors, locals, dogs, hills, and that lovely feeling of being somewhere properly Yorkshire. It’s a cracking place for a market, even if your legs do occasionally remind you that gravity is not your friend.

So if you’ve not been out to see us yet this month, Haworth is your chance.

Come for the market.
Have a wander.
Visit the shops.
Grab a brew.
Support the traders.
Make a day of it.

And when you do come to a market, have a proper browse.

Don’t do that weird slow walk past where you pretend to look at things but avoid eye contact like a nervous pigeon. Traders don’t bite. Well, most of them don’t. Some look like they might, but that’s probably just the early start.

Stop.
Chat.
Ask questions.
Buy summat if you fancy it.

And if you don’t buy, still smile.

Costs nowt.

Which is rare, because everything else costs a bloody fortune.

Trader Spotlight
StinkerStuff Candles – Lost Cherry

Right then, let’s talk about Stinkerstuff Candles Lost Cherry — because apparently even candles are going missing now.

Brilliant.

Add it to the list, along with my patience, my tape measure, my decent pen, and that one screwdriver that vanishes every time I need it.

This fragrance is a proper warm, sweet little number.

You get that rich cherry scent straight away — deep, juicy and a bit fancy. Not that cheap cherry smell that reminds you of cough medicine, school sick days and being wrapped in a blanket on the settee while daytime telly slowly destroyed your will to live.

No, this is nicer than that.

Then there’s a soft almond warmth that comes through, giving it that cosy, comforting feel. Like the house is pretending to be calm and organised, even though there’s washing on the radiator, three remote controls on the table, and nobody knows which one works the telly.

Then you get that gentle woody finish, which stops it being too sweet. Because nobody wants a candle that smells like a pick ’n’ mix counter has had a nervous breakdown.

It’s warm, sweet, rich and a bit posh — but not in an annoying way. Not the sort of posh where you need to pronounce words differently or pretend you understand wine.

Just nice.

Proper nice.

It looks grand as well. Smart little bowl, lovely colour, nice topping, and giftable enough to give someone proudly.

Although let’s be honest, you’ll probably buy it for someone else, get it home, sniff it again, and think, “Actually, sod them, I’m keeping that.”

And frankly, fair enough.

Mr Grumpy’s verdict:
A cracking warm cherry scent — sweet, cosy, a bit luxurious, and far better than most things going on in the house after tea time.

Light it, sit down, enjoy five minutes of peace, then wait for someone to ruin it by walking in and saying, “What’s that smell?” like you’ve set fire to a pudding.

Produce Tip Of The Month
Candy Garden – Cherry Bakewell Chocolate Bar

Now then, seeing as we’ve had Lost Cherry on the go, it only seems right to keep the cherry theme going with Candy Garden’s Cherry Bakewell Chocolate Bar.

Because apparently a normal Cherry Bakewell wasn’t dangerous enough.

Oh no.

Someone looked at it and thought, “What this needs is turning into a chocolate bar so middle-aged men with no self-control can pretend they’re only having a square.”

Aye.

One square.

Pull the other one.

This is one of them dessert-inspired chocolate bars that catches your eye straight away. Proper bright packaging, Cherry Bakewell written on it in big letters, little cherries, little tart, chocolate bits — basically everything needed to make your sensible eating plan collapse before lunchtime.

And flavour-wise, it’s got that classic Cherry Bakewell idea going on.

Sweet cherry.
Almond-style Bakewell vibes.
Creamy chocolate.
That nostalgic cake tin feeling that makes you think of strong brews, Sunday afternoons, and being told, “Don’t eat that, it’s for later.”

Well, later is now.

That’s how time works when you’re tired and there’s chocolate nearby.

It’s cheerful, sweet, and very easy to eat while pretending you’re “just trying it for review purposes.”

Which is a wonderful excuse, by the way. I may start using it for everything.

Cake? Review purposes.
Fudge? Review purposes.
Second biscuit? Important research.
Third biscuit? Quality control.

It’s the sort of bar you buy from a market stall as a treat, then somehow it mysteriously disappears in the car before you get home.

Nobody knows what happened.

Could have been the dog.
Could have been a draught.
Could have been you sat there with chocolate on your fingers and shame in your eyes.

I’m not here to judge.

Well, I am.

But quietly.

Mr Grumpy’s verdict:
A proper sweet treat. Cherry Bakewell in chocolate bar form — tasty, fun, dangerous with a brew, and far too easy to demolish while telling yourself you’ll start being sensible Monday.

Which Monday?

Nobody knows.

Mr Grumpy’s Moan Of The Month

This month’s moan is about folk who think effort is optional.

And before anyone starts typing with both thumbs in a rage, I’m not talking about everyone.

Most traders are brilliant. Proper grafters. They turn up early, set up well, smile, chat, keep their stalls looking fresh, and actually make customers feel welcome.

Funny that, isn’t it?

Almost like being friendly helps when you’re trying to sell things.

But then you get the odd one stood behind a stall looking like they’ve been personally betrayed by a pasty.

Phone in hand.
Face like thunder.
Stall looking tired.
No hello.
No smile.
No energy.
No effort.

Then at the end of the day it’s, “It’s been quiet.”

Aye.

I wonder why.

Maybe customers walked past and thought, “I’m not disturbing that, they look like they’re waiting for bad news from council.”

If everyone around you is selling and you’re not, maybe it’s time to stop blaming the market, the weather, the layout, the footfall, the parking, the moon, the price of cheese, and whatever else is getting dragged into it this week.

Either sort your face out or sort your stall out.

Because I’m telling you now, one of them needs doing — and I’ll let you decide which one for now, because for most of the day you’ve had a face like a slapped pasty.

Customers can tell when someone wants to be there.

They can also tell when someone would rather be at home arguing with the telly or checking Facebook comments like their phone’s going to buy three candles and a jar of chutney.

Selling still involves selling.

Smile.
Talk.
Tell people what you make.
Make your stall look like someone gives a damn.
Look alive.

And for the love of Yorkshire, stop staring at your phone like it’s going to save your day.

It won’t.

Unless it grows legs, buys a brownie, and compliments your display, it’s doing nowt.

What’s Coming Next

Next up, we’ve got Haworth Artisan Market still to come this month.

And Haworth is always worth a visit.

You’ve got the market, the cobbles, the history, the shops, the cafes, the visitors, the locals, the dogs, the hills, and that unmistakable Yorkshire charm that makes you think, “This is lovely,” while your knees quietly start drafting a complaint.

So come and join us.

Have a wander round the stalls.
Support local traders.
Pick up something handmade.
Treat yourself.
Buy a gift.
Grab something nice to eat.
Make a day of it.

And yes, festive planning is already starting to creep in like a bill you forgot about.

I know. It’s only June. I don’t want to hear about Christmas either, but apparently the year doesn’t care about my feelings.

Keep an eye on the pages, check the website, share the posts, tell your friends, drag your family out, and come support small businesses properly.

Every share helps.
Every comment helps.
Every visit helps.
Every purchase helps.

Even just telling someone about a market helps.

It all makes a difference, even if it doesn’t always feel like it when you’re stood there in drizzle wondering why your left sock’s wet.

Final Muttering

So that’s June so far.

Dodgy weather, endless football chat, Skipton Car Show bringing the crowds, Lost Cherry candles, Candy Garden Cherry Bakewell chocolate, brilliant traders, lovely customers, Sir Kevin Sinfield finally getting the recognition he deserves, and Haworth still to come.

Support local.
Buy handmade.
Talk to traders.
Try something different.
Bring a bag.
Bring a smile.
Bring patience if football gets mentioned.

And for the love of all things Yorkshire, if you’re behind a stall, look like you actually want to be there.

Right, I’m off for a brew.

And maybe that Cherry Bakewell chocolate bar.

Don’t judge me.

I’m middle-aged, tired, and I’ve earned it.

Mr Grumpy