20 May 2012 (Sunday) - Craft Fair
I concluded yesterday's blog entry with the observation that I had guts ache. The guts ache continued on through the night. One of my many problems is that I don't realise I've eaten enough until half an hour after I've eaten enough. By which time I've already gone on to shovel far too much food down my gullet. I spent the night and much of the morning with a rumbling tum.
Up far earlier than would be usual for a Sunday. Today was one of those days for which we had multiple offers; but couldn't do them all. We turned down the kite flying at Leeds Castle. Reluctantly; because last year's kite flying at Leeds Castle was really good. But we woke to a grey, damp morning. A wet field might not have been the best option today.
Instead we went to the craft fair at Furley Park school to raise money for the Park Farm scouts. I say " to raise money for the Park Farm scouts"; we handed over our table fee, and anything we made we then pocketed. "Badger-Original-Landscapes (bespoke-artwork)" staged it's first stall, alongside Lisa's engraved glasses and some frankly amazing candles. There was also a stall selling hand and body lotions, three other stalls all selling incredibly cheap jewellery, tea, coffee, raffle, and a small boot fair outside. I must admit that I had a little giggle when a family were perusing my paintings, and on seeing the purple circular night scene (with pine tree in snow), they all commented that this was the painting that Grandma had. I didn't have the heart to tell them that it wasn't. But I did wonder what it was that Grandma did have.
There's no denying that I didn't get rich today. But I did sell some paintings; and more than covered my expenses for the day.
From a purely mercenary point of view the fête had the same problem that all scouting fund-raising events have: no passing trade. The only people there were people who had been specifically invited. And so (again from a purely mercenary point of view) it would have been the same old people putting their hands in their pockets.
I'd certainly go and run a stall there again. But (having got the taste for running a stall) I wonder if I might find a summer fayre over the next few months. Maybe one of the outlying villages, or Challock Goose Fayre. They would have a much higher turn-out of punters onto whom I could unload more paintings.
And so home where we wasted the rest of the afternoon. Firstly by falling asleep for an hour, and then in having a minor tidy-up. Dull, so dull.