My Day at the Markets - an essay by Nick

Well duckies. The markets were everything I expected, and a little bit more. Firstly it was a Car Boot Market, not a craft market like Bangalow and The Channon. Strike one. Secondly there were three other events on at the same time. Strike two. Thirdly it is Lismore, not Byron, Mullum or Bangalow. Strike three.

Saying that I got my first and only sale early in the day from the lovely Natalie. She has a wonderful eye that girl, and picked my favourite cushion, the red fringed Apple Isle to take home with her. The rest of the day saw me very busy as here in Lismore, the stall was quite unique. I had a lot of lovely comments and some generous advise from a multitude of people who are making a living crafting and making lovely wares.

I had quite a few enquiries and quoted on my bunting, ran out of cards to give out and had to make some dodgy handwritten ones, but we shall wait and see. Rome wasn't built in a day. After all Jessica Watson didin't give up when she smashed her boat into an ocean carrier did she?

But here is a funny story, and it brings to mind other comments that stall holders have made about the public making often insulting remarks in their presence, such as "I could make it better" etc.

I was pretending to rearrange a few things (as you do) when two women and a grotty child walked up, one older and overweight (I will call a spade a spade) the other younger. They looked at this chair above,  and the older woman went to sit on it. Now, this chair is being held together with cable ties and barely supports the cushions that lie so becomingly upon it. "Don't sit on that!" I screech, all the while thinking, even if it was in tip top condition, there is no way that it could support the sheer bulk of the woman standing in front of me! "Chair!" she snapped, "Get me a chair!" Ofcourse, being the 'pleaser' that I am, I rushed behing the counter, threw my daughter off my comfortable 70's teak chair and bought it to the front. The woman dropped and squeezed her way into it.

Okay, I thought, maybe she is going to be like Mrs Rachel Lynde (Anne of Green Gables) or Aunt Polly (Pollyanna) or some martiachical Duchess from Georgette Heyer and direct her daughter to bring her items that take her fancy. "She is going to buy big for the grotty grandchild!" thinks I, dollar signs in my eyes.

I continued "rearranging" my stall, waiting to be of assistance. After a few minutes of browsing the daughter bought over a pincushion for the mother's attention. "It's alright if you were a midget!" she grunted holding it in her fat hand. And that was about that. The daughter gave up even the semblance of browsing, I retreated behind the counter, standing, because I didn't have a seat, and the family occupied all of the stall space, for the next ten minutes, not saying anything. It was like some weird performance art.

My daughter and I continued to look at each other, roll our eyes expressively and mouthing silently, "What is going on!" to each other. Finally, an older bikie type fellow came up and said "OK mother, lets go." He tried to get the woman out of the chair, but she was stuck fast! As he lifted her, the chair lifted on on her bum! I had to run around help lift her and prise the chair from her nether regions. And that was that! All of them turned around and then left. No "thank-you". No "I like your wares." Nothing. It was very surreal. Ten minutes they were there and then they weren't.

I think I will try The Channon Markets and try to get into Bangalow next. Ah, what would life be without goals and challenges.  xxNick