A Sign On The Road
Dear Ann,
Certainly the market bug had bitten me & I was all fired up. One thing leads to another. When you get to know the stall holders they are a breed unto themselves & I have to say the nicest kind of breed ever.
The Lions Club told me of another market to go to on the other side of town that made me more nervous than ever as I don’t know that area very well. However, David gave me instructions on how to get there.
I was fine, but got up even earlier to leave home in plenty of time. It was easy & stall holders were well established as I could see countless gazebos again in a huge park, but I evidently went around to the back end of the markets.
When I parked the car & entered the park two people were still setting up their stalls under the shade of a huge tree & welcomed me to put up my tables in between them. I didn’t mind that it was at the quietest part of the market, as I found out later, but was happy to settle in to any niche available.
This market was organised by Veterans Affairs & I had no sooner got my display up when a gentleman virtually bowled up to me asking if I had a food licence? I was pleased I had it with me.
The only other time I saw anyone from the club was when they came round the stall holders to collect their fees for the space. This market was only a week away from the last one when I had been on top of the world.
One thing I learned is that there is a vast amount of people who go out very early on Sunday mornings to get the daily newspaper & then they wander through the markets, which accounts for some very early morning sales.
I was certainly starting to get to know the run of the ropes as it was all experience to me. It was lovely sitting under the shade of the tree on a lovely day, chatting to friendly people as they passed by & stopped for a tasting.
It was quite uncanny but I sold exactly the same amount as I had at the previous market, so I was very pleased & went home a happy little vegemite after an enjoyable day,
All of this happened prior to Philip & Greg arriving from Burbank. We had been out one day when – on the way home, very close to home – Greg pointed out a sign on the road advertising a market at Warners Bay, which is where I live as Lakelands is part of ‘The Bay.’
Dawn in her new gazebo at the Warner’s Bay market.
The market was being held in two days so I had no time to lose. When I rang the number I found it to be the local Chamber of Commerce so I told the lass what I was about. She laughed & said “I recognise your name Dawn, The Pudding Lady & would you be wanting to sell Christmas Puddings?” Spot on Roslyn!
That lass did everything she could to help me get my application & the papers required, in to her before the market. I realise there are some nasty people in the world, but there are also some wonderful & good people too! Roslyn was so keen for me to attend that she even called at my home to collect a copy of my Insurance Policy which is required before you can go to any market.
This market was right up my alley, just a couple of streets from home. I had that inner feeling it was going to be a really good one. Warners Bay has been crying out for a new market, as the monthly one they held a couple of years ago that was popular, had to close because of complaints from the local supermarket that some stalls were selling produce that they sold.
I even had a new gazebo for this one which the council men running the market put up for me. I had a pretty display with my Christmas table cloth made for me by my friends in the Philippines embroidered with Christmas trees & Santa Claus & all my puddings in sparkling cellophane with their appropriate labels. One little girl came up to me, touched the cloth & said “I love this”.
I sat in my gazebo on my comfy chair (some of the time) & I think I chatted to everyone who passed by. I had taken my usual stock of puddings & sold out completely an hour before the market was due to end. I had a lovely, lovely day!
It was a Saturday, so I called in to see the butcher in our shopping complex (also an excuse to have a well earned coffee at Micheles) & bought the best looking beef steaks in his window. They were called Viking Steaks priced at $52 per kilo. I bought three & nearly swallowed my tonsils when the nice butcher asked for $54!
Part of just one of the Viking (Rib Eye) steaks.
I managed to keep my tonsils, as it was my celebration to share with family whom I don’t see very often & I knew they would enjoy this treat. I would never dare cook steak with my boys here as they are pros when it comes to steak so I let them do the honours.
However, the steaks were so large (weighing almost half a kilo , or a pound) that they had to halve the steaks for another meal. We had a delightful dinner as Philip brought out one of his stash of birthday wines & we had a dinner fit for a king!
Love to you my dear friend. You are forever near. Dawn X O X O