Mamalade

It gets hot in the main street in November. But that’s when we have our Christmas Street stall. I got up very early – my car had been packed the day before. I picked up Mum and we went down to the shopping centre an hour before the shops opened. It takes a while to set up a stall. First there’s all those card tables to set up. The poor old tables have been to so many stalls they are getting rickety, but then so are we.

There’s never enough room to display everything. I think we had about 5 tables for the sewing and cooking etc. Then there were 2 more tables for plants, as well as a dozen or so boxes of plants on the footpath. There were boxes of books set up on folding stools at the end of the tables. (People don’t like to have to bend down.)

I didn’t realise until the end of the morning that the price sticker had come off one of the doll’s outfits. It had adhered to my blouse and I had been serving customers all morning while wearing a sticker that said “$5 with pants.”

There didn’t seem to be so many people around this time, which was disappointing. It was very slow – and hot! But when we counted the money afterwards, we had made nearly $900 for the street children in the Bamboo Shoot project in Cambodia!

All that rain that we didn’t have for months and months – it finally arrived last week. All in a couple of days! There have been some violent storms that caused a lot of damage and even a few deaths. My heart goes out to the family of the two little girls who were drowned when the car they were travelling in was washed away.

We had a violent storm just before our Toastmasters meeting. The rain was still sloshing down when I left home. The theme for our meeting was supposed to be “Beach Party.” It was more like a tidal wave! Those who had brought beach towels needed them to dry off when they came in out of the rain. Less than half of our members showed up, which was understandable. There were not enough for a quorum, so we couldn’t have a proper business session, so we practiced our parliamentary skills with a “frivolous motion.” Someone moved that we adopt faded blue jeans as our code of dress. It was defeated. Too many of us don’t look good in blue jeans! It was a lot of fun.

Next morning, Mum rang to say she couldn’t go shopping – her neighbour was helping her to pull up the carpet in the downstairs rumpus room.

“Oh no!” I said. “Did you get flooded out again?” I should have realised. Whenever we have heavy rain like that, the water comes in under Mum’s house. Her neighbour had pulled all the carpet out onto the front lawn by the time I arrived. He is a wonderful help, much more helpful than the neighbour on the bottom side who is part of the problem, with his blocked drains.

“I’m getting rid of the carpet this time,” said Mum. It has happened so many times, it will be less worry if there’s only a concrete floor to get wet. We spent the day cleaning up the mess. There’s still a lot to be done, because a lot of the rubber backing from the carpet is still stuck to the floor. Finally we cut the carpet into pieces and stuffed what we could into the wheelie bin. I brought some of it home to put in my bin. But first, I salvaged a piece to mend Olive and Oscar’s scratching post. It looks good and they love it.

There’s usually something to be salvaged out of any calamity!

We had a two day Jumble Sale this week. Not many people about on the first day, probably because it wasn’t our regular day, and the local paper didn’t print our ad. Then there was the smell…

I kept checking under my shoes. I thought I might have stepped in something, then we realised the bag man, who lives on the streets, was in the corner, browsing throught the magazines. Of course, no one else went near the book table while he was there. The smell was too unbearable. Finally, Mum said, “I’m going out for some fresh air.”

“Is that because I came in?” asked a jolly looking man who had just arrived.

“No,” said Mum. “It was here before you came.”

“I came to see if you have any red material,” said the man.

“I’ve got some at home,” I said. “I can bring it tomorrow.”

“I want it to make a dress,” he explained.

We all laughed, because he didn’t look the kind of man who would wear a dress.

“I’m going to be a Christmas Cracker in a show we’re putting on at the Retirement Home.” he said. He pirouetted around the room.

A woman came in looking for men’s ties for her daughter to make a skirt. We found a few, but we had already passed on a big bagful of them to another charity because they weren’t selling.

Mum went down the road to the shops and came back with a can of lavender air freshener. She sprayed the room liberally, including the corner where the bag man was.

“He’s still there,” she whispered. “I sprayed all around him and he didn’t take the hint.”

“No, he’s going through all the magazines.”

Mum looked as though she had a brainwave. She went over to the book table and surreptitiously removed most of the pile of magazines.

“There’s only a few left for him to look at,” she said on her return. Perhaps he’ll go soon.”

It worked. When the bag man finished looking through the last magazine, he picked up his big striped bag and shuffled out. People started to buy books.

The first Tuesday in November is always Melbourne Cup day – Australia’s famous horse race. It’s the only horse race I ever watch on TV, but I’ve never actually backed a horse nor attended a Melbourne Cup party as so many do.

I helped Girlie, my neighbour over the back to make a hat for the Melbourne Cup party at her Bowls Club. (Fancy hats are a part of the Melbourne Cup tradition.) She had fastened blue roses and mauve leaves around the crown of the hat. It looked pretty and set off her mauve outfit. “It’s not really mauve,” she corrected me, “It’s Berry.”

I spent the morning shopping, after having my bi-annual eye test. The optometrist was pleased with the test. “You’re not supposed to be able to read that line,” he said, when I successfully read the tiniest print.

“Will I have to go to jail?” I asked.

“No,” he said. “You pass ‘Go!’ You won’t need new glasses for another two years.”

I came home in time to watch the race on TV. I was surprised to see how wet and windy it was in Melbourne. It was a beautiful sunny day here, but there, people clung desperately to their expensive hats, while their umbrellas turned inside out.

A little later, Girlie phoned me. “Guess what, my hat won second prize!”

“Great!”

“I was wondering if you’d come and take a photo of it so I can show the family.”

“I’ll be right over.”

She looked really smart in her “Berry” suit and hat. “I think it would be better taken outside,” said Girlie.

“Okay, how about in front of that bush in the corner?”

Girlie posed in front of the Francisia bush.

“That’s good,” I said. “The hat is in the sun, but the rest of you is in the shade.”

“That’s nice!” said Girlie in mock indignation.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I chuckled. “I meant the hat is highlighted, but you don’t have the sun in your eyes.”

I snapped her in several locations just in case.

Back upstairs, we sat and chatted for a while, till Girlie’s phone rang.

“I’ll go, “ I said, as she reached for the phone. “Oh… what about your paper bill?” I had promised to pay her newspaper account when I went down the road.

“Oh yes… Can you hold on a minute?” Girlie asked her caller. She took the cordless phone with her as she found her purse. “Now… where’s the paper bill?” She rummaged through the pile of papers on the kitchen bench till she found it.

“Thanks for doing that,” she said. “Now I’d better get back to the phone. Where did I put it?”

We searched high and low and finally found the phone behind a cannister on the kitchen bench. I came home, leaving her to explain to her caller.