On this gorgeous Bank Holiday Monday, the warmest and by far the sunniest day so far, where was I?
I was daft enough to be selling at a craft fair within a leisure facility centred around an indoor snow slope. Well selling is probably exaggerating somewhat.
In recent times it seems a rare thing to have good weather coinciding within a bank holiday here in Blighty.
Which is why barely a soul turned up to the craft fair. And it also didn’t help that the ones that did come had difficulty in finding the conference suite we were squeezed into.
The place was dead. The hundreds of folks that had spent all winter visiting the venue had chosen the park and the sunshine over snow boarding, the cinema and tin pin bowling.
This was my fifth fair and on a craft stall value basis (it was a very expensive stall price) it was my poorest. A loss was made.
I get the feeling that the only ones making any money from these fairs are the ones organising them. I feel a bit of a mug.
At least the tables were sandwiched together so tight it was more trouble than it was worth to have a wander over to grab a coffee from the adjacent bar or peruse the other stalls. I didn’t fancy a Lego key ring or a flyer about holding a skincare/candle/clothing party at my house anyway.
However, on a positive note, I did sell 2 of my new crochet baskets!
My partner’s thoughts on continuing this quest are far from positive, to say the least. I daren’t even consider putting any value to my time spent stood behind my stall, which is how he looks at it.
I came home and did a quick 12 miles on my bike to bash out my frustration.
Back to the day job tomorrow.