Flibbertygibbet

All I needed was a carpet bag

Oy, what a day!

Copyright Trevor Leighton, Times Online Gallery

Ok, so it wasn't quite like this at Waterloo today - but it wasn't far off.  After a stop-start journey en route which stressed me a little, I was hoping for a good day for my only market this week as the organisers had put a lot of effort into getting a full programme of events for the day, culminating in the switching on of the Christmas lights at 6pm with activities afterwards.  Apparently.

I was long gone by then.  From ten o'clock until about eleven I was happily setting up, chatting with the stallholders beside me, ignoring the cars driving past, the gentle drizzle and the general banging and clattering.  At one point I thought I heard thunder, but then told myself not to be silly, I'd checked every conceivable weather forecast and the worst prospect was some light rain. 

It came out of nowhere - a rapid darkening of the skies, a gush of wind - then all hell broke loose as four stalls, despite being weighted down with steel blocks as well as our various treasures, simply took to the pavements and damn near took out passing pedestrians.  Ah ha ha, how I had laughed when I was taking out my product and public liability insurance and the broker told me that I'd be covered for everything, "...even the stall falling on someone".  Gulp. Luckily there were two guys standing on the pavement and they jumped in, each one grabbing a canopy and holding them down (actually, pushing them back) while we scrabbled about picking things up.  The woman beside me from Jinx's Cat lost a lot of stock, but what was even worse was the woman who had a beautiful selection of teacups and china - all wiped out.  I've just had the washing machine on overload this evening and I'll have to redo all the labels but it could have been much worse.

After discussion with the organisers I agreed to stay as they provided a sturdier stall - a bit like this one, from Eastenders.  Minus the fruit and veg, obviously.  And the sunshine, unfortunately. The blusteriness continued and it didn't make for a convivial shopping experience for the few people who scurried past in the wind.

About three o'clock it looked like it might all happen again.  I thought to myself - I need a sign, stay or go... and the drops started to fall.  Like auditory neon, I suddenly heard someone calling my name - Caroline!  A pal from knitting.  We managed to get everything packed away in about ten minutes and ran over to the pub just as it really started to wee down.  I'm home, exhausted, sitting on the couch, flanked by two cats.  In a house that's intact, unlike those poor people in Kensal Rise where some houses lost walls, not only roofs.  But we're still here, and counting our blessings.  Happy and snug, all us three.

Thinking, writing, revising, thinking, talking

There's been a lot going on today - that field trip, as mentioned earlier. Camden scared the hell out of me as it was so busy - and also there was only one person with interesting home made products for sale.  I bought a little cat brooch to support this fellow crafter, she said it has been very quiet. Perhaps I'll stick with my existing market for another couple of weeks, but try to negotiate a better deal as I've heard others have done.

Also spent a lot of time working on formulating the goals for 'My Best Year Yet' as I've discussed before.  One of my ten goals will be related to blogging, I just haven't formulated the words yet. And then there was the two hours on the phone telling friends again about the impending separation.

I checked into Posie Gets Cozy - and this post really resonated, as much of her writing does. Of course it was also juxtaposted (a new verb) beside a post about her lovely husband, the famous Andy, and it made me believe more fervently than ever that our fledgling marriage is ending for the right reasons.  Marriage is a meeting of minds, hearts, ambitions, a mutual appreciation society  soundtracked by a resounding cheer as your clasp hands and together jump off the metaphorical cliff into the wild blue yonder, secure that you'll be each other's parachutes - or at least try to give each other a softer landing.  Of course even seeing all this in black and white doesn't make the entire shitty process any less painful but it's still the way that things should be.   People have said that I'm being very philosophical and brave which is a compliment but what is the alternative?  Mewl and collapse in a heap?  There's time for tears and I'm not avoiding them but instead I'm throwing myself into creating.

Another thing that's becoming very prevalent is thoughts of home, and Irishness.  Probably because I don't know where I'll be in six months.  But I've said that I'm not rushing to make any decisions.  Or to go home to Ireland, to be honest. If I want to move to Brighton, or Edinburgh, or Paris or Melbourne, well I'll still want to move there in six months.  But right now I'll stay here, which doesn't mean being static or not dealing with the situation.  Friends and family are giving so much support, and I'm getting to the stage where I can accept it, which is great.  Plus, I have company here...

The Butcher's Wife

Last night as I was walking home after the market, trundling my wheelie bag and laden down with my fold-up chair, rucksack of bits and bobs etc, I was jolted back to reality on a dark London street by a cheery 'Hello!' from a cyclist who had just pulled up alongside me.  After 0.37 seconds I thought 'Who the, what the...' and stomped onwards, as I find ignoring loons, certainly in the first instance, is always the way to go.  That, or start quoting song lyrics at them in a whispery voice so that they think you're the crazy one (Best daytime bet is Coldplay 'Look at the stars, see how they shine for you...')  Then he thought to remove his ski mask and I realised it was the butcher.

About a year ago I discovered a local halal butchers and at first thought it was great, but recently I decided the hygiene wasn't quite what it had been, since they did a refit and moved everything around it seems much more disorganised, ironically, so I haven't been visiting so much.  One of the butchers in there always gave me great chat, or as much as he could with his basic knowledge English outside of meat terminology.  And that was who I met last night. 

He was incredibly friendly, to the point I started meaningfully metioning my husband a lot.  He asked me what I'd been doing that day, and I replied that I'd been at a market - the limitations of his English became clearer when he got over-excited at that stage, gesturing at my luggage and thinking I'd said I'd been to Marrakech. (I wish.)  After a couple of minutes when he started to say something about coming to visit me at the market, I gave him the cheery 'Well, lovely to see you, must be off now, see you in the shop some day!'  and left.  Occasionally glancing over my shoulder to make sure he wasn't behind me. 

Is it London that does this to a person - a big city makes you crave anonymity and engenders suspicion of what may just have been friendliness?  I have always liked being able to hide away whilst in the thick of things in London and perhaps that's not such a good thing, too much Ivanna B Alone.  That is something I will have to work on, I think.  Meeting crafty people, through this blog and knitting group has been great and I'm making a totally new circle of friends in addition to old friends which has been a godsend these last few months.  I still think I'm going to be cooking more vegetarian options.

Speaking of meeting people, another bloggy pal came by the stall yesterday, JeanieB is her posting name.  It was so lovely to get a big smile from her, and to spend a few minutes chatting about knitting corsages the size of dinner plates - to say nothing of her nine year cross stitch project -  especially as yesterday was another quiet day in terms of footfall, though sales were better.  I sent her off down Marylebone High Street (the other shop I was trying to remember was VV Rouleaux, hope you made it in there for a browse!) and have to say now that I'm not responsible for any damage caused  to her bank balance.

Though I'm not affiliated with them in any way, and can't say anything about their delivery service, I can recommend A Place in the Fridge's bananas.  They are a London based organic fruit and veg box company who have a stall at the market.  I was presented with a wee mixed bag when we were all packing up last night (in the dark again, still no lighting this week - mutter mutter) and so far it's all been delicious.   Also to be recommended are Keith Daniel chocolates, should  you come across them.  Particularly the cinnamon ones, yum...

Though my fingers were extremely cold yesterday, I did get some knitting done.  Here's a little preview...

Right, I'm off to Camden on a Flibbertygibbet's Parlour research trip.  Part of me just wants to stay indoors, to do some crafting but that's not the whole of it.  The howling wind and rain this morning were combining to create a licence to avoid the world for another day.  It wasn't easy to get out of bed, but we can't be having that sort of carry on.  Plus the sun is shining brightly and you have to make the most of those days, of all days.  So out we go...

Chocolate Martinis

Denise is indeed correct.  Chocolate Martinis are quite wonderful.  So are Apple and Cinnamon Martinis, and Pear and Ginger Martinis, at this place...

However, I have decided to skip on to the next stage which is Sod It, Get On With It, It's Time to Start the Diet [Tomorrow]. 

My textbooks for the next month.  I got as far as Week 8 of TAW so I'm going to resume and then get into YBYY with a group of online friends.  It was great to see the parents, lots of straight talking and there are things to attend to now in the short term which will help 2007 to be my BBY.

Here's what I spent today doing:

Two of the dozen pairs of earrings I made today, from sequins, bugle beads, Swarovksi crystals, iolites, silver chain and antique beads.  Little light-catchers for the party season.  They're actually quite delicate wee things - the bowl of the martini glass is about two inches high, just little liquer glasses.  Perfect for miniature chocolate martinis!  Only kidding...probably...