I spent yesterday battling with my dodgy iron, sorting out my creased stall cover and sign and my crushed cushion covers.
My own fault, as I’d lazily left everything dumped in the spare room in giant bin bags since my last event.
Our evil iron obviously knew this and mockingly pushed it’s luck all day, making funny clicky noises like it was tutting at me and at one point tripping out the downstairs power.
Serves me right I suppose. Good job we have a modern fusebox and I could just flick that power right back on again. Ha! In your face, iron!
I also made a few more plushie / pincushion pals for the stall…
Today I’ll be selling my wares at the Lady Bay Summer Festival.
It should be a right good do to see off the summer: there’s live music, ales and food, and lots of interesting stuff on sale. And the weather is set fair apparently.
Although, as an insurance policy, I’ve bought myself a gazebo (with sides!) for the event, so I hope I’ll actually sell some things to cover some of the cost.
Another investment in my little business. I must be taking this more seriously than I thought!
It’s actually going to be a bit of a strange one for me. The festival is being held at The Poppy & Pint, a pub on Pierrepont Road in Lady Bay in West Bridgford, Nottingham.
I grew up two streets away.
Every summer, when I was old enough to be allowed out on my bike, I used to cycle round to the Poppy and Pint, which was then the Royal British Legion club, to watch the bowls and tennis games that took place there.
It was what passed for entertainment and independence back then, in those hazy, halcyon days of childhood. I could stop in at the corner shop on the way for an ice pop, or if they were closed, sweeties that tasted like perfume from the machine outside.
My mum actually worked behind the bar at the British Legion. I remember my dad dutifully setting out on Tuesday and Thursday nights at 11pm on the dot, dog in tow, to meet her and walk her home.
I haven’t been back to Lady Bay for a few years. There’s been no reason to go there since they’ve been gone and the house sold.
Though I’ve often dreamt about it. Sometimes in my dreams I go back to the house, wander up to the door and there they are, mum and dad. At which I gasp, “Oh! I thought you were dead!”
I hope I’m busy tomorrow.
I don’t think blubbing would be good for sales. ♥
Oh I do hope you have a busy and successful day! Love your plushie/pincushions…but love your childhood memories even more. xx
Oh, your story got me all misty! Our former homes all have ghosts, don’t they? I hope your day is fun and profitable!
Oh, the saga of the Evil Iron… ;-). Good luck today, and have fun!
Oh that’s sad and sweet. You know I don’t have a real childhood home to go back to, we moved a lot and so I have many homes that I only lived in for 1-3 years. I therefore can’t imagine seeing a home I knew so well, knowing it was no longer my family’s. It gives me a sad feeling…
Bought a tear to my eye too. Hope it’s a good day and the punters are spending!