Happily Ever After
Life in The Rural Retreat with a beautiful wife, three cats, garden wildlife, a camera, a computer – and increasing amounts about running
The Curse of Mr Gardener
by admin - 20:49 on 27 November 2011
You never know what to expect on market day, especially at a new one. Will the venue be any good? Will the crowd like my snaps? Will they bring money?
Of course, it helps if there's a crowd...
I should have known that a recommendation by Mr Gardener, whose Dornoch event wasn't over-burdened with paying customers, might lead to a quiet afternoon. Yes, today's Charleston market was a touch disappointing.
Around twenty-five eager stallholders served barely a hundred people before we called it a day after two-and-a-half hours, thirty minutes before the planned finish time. I didn't sell even a £1 card, and I wasn't the only one whose moneybox wasn't disturbed. Such is life.
The organiser, who'd been prominent earlier on, had disappeared by halfway through the event, no doubt to lock up her takings before disgruntled salespeople demanded their return. Also not around was Mr Gardener, whose stall was manned by family members so he could attend another market at Beauly. That, I learned later, was also a quiet occasion. The man's a jinx.
Today's lack of income is a particular blow because this morning, after giving up my half-hearted local search to find a replacement tailgate for Mr Ford, I ventured £50 plus £20 courier charge for one advertised on eBay.
So we'll pretend Charleston never happened and look forward to Avoch market next weekend when Mrs Marten and galloping squirrels will catch the eye of free-spending snappery lovers and get my career as a snappery entrepreneur back on track.
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