Showing posts with label Scottish weather ruins everything. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scottish weather ruins everything. Show all posts
Friday, 19 April 2013
5
I made each of the kids a last minute item of clothing for our recent trip Stateside; Jamie a long sleeve Dolman in this scooter print and Maia an as-yet-unphotographed skater dress. She now has thirteen skater dresses, I do not consider this excessive. But with temps in Connecticut firmly at or below freezing, I never had the chance to get proper pictures outdoors. Surely the weather in Edinburgh mid-April would be more cooperative? Not exactly...
The four day windstorm we've had this week (that also misrepresented the lovely cut and drape of Maia's Doli tank), also gave Jamie's longer hair a old man comb-over. He will make an adorable old man.
Comb-overs are funny, but not as funny the transformation of his mod cut into a 1980's mom cut.
No words. You can caption this one yourselves. In other news, he has finally lost a second tooth. He's been patiently waiting for all his loose teeth to literally fall out of his mouth by their own accord, but not before they get stuck in the backwards position (true story).
Is everyone geared up for the Kids Clothes Week spring challenge? There is a dedicated blog space this year which is rapidly filling up with inspiration and enthusiasm. I am determined this year to play along (oh, how I always say this...) and even more determined to sew SPRING CLOTHES. Not cruelly-extended-neverending-winter clothes, spring clothes. 'If you make it, it will happen', right? What are your plans for Kids Clothes Week?
A Scooter Shirt and Kids Clothes Week
I made each of the kids a last minute item of clothing for our recent trip Stateside; Jamie a long sleeve Dolman in this scooter print and Maia an as-yet-unphotographed skater dress. She now has thirteen skater dresses, I do not consider this excessive. But with temps in Connecticut firmly at or below freezing, I never had the chance to get proper pictures outdoors. Surely the weather in Edinburgh mid-April would be more cooperative? Not exactly...
The four day windstorm we've had this week (that also misrepresented the lovely cut and drape of Maia's Doli tank), also gave Jamie's longer hair a old man comb-over. He will make an adorable old man.
Comb-overs are funny, but not as funny the transformation of his mod cut into a 1980's mom cut.
No words. You can caption this one yourselves. In other news, he has finally lost a second tooth. He's been patiently waiting for all his loose teeth to literally fall out of his mouth by their own accord, but not before they get stuck in the backwards position (true story).
Is everyone geared up for the Kids Clothes Week spring challenge? There is a dedicated blog space this year which is rapidly filling up with inspiration and enthusiasm. I am determined this year to play along (oh, how I always say this...) and even more determined to sew SPRING CLOTHES. Not cruelly-extended-neverending-winter clothes, spring clothes. 'If you make it, it will happen', right? What are your plans for Kids Clothes Week?
Sunday, 6 December 2009
7
The Police are not helpful
Improbably, the fair I did yesterday was not a disaster. I sold reasonably well, especially considering it was mostly vintage goods. I even sold a hoodie that I didn't have a chance to photograph, so it's like it never even existed. But trust me, it was awesome. 'Stop. Just wait one minute,' I hear you ask, 'You were doing a fair. Where's the drama? The apocalyptic weather? Where's the angst?' Here:

This is how I do not like my stand to look. That's me on the right, behind my rail, with a pygmy table at my knees. Why? Because when I arrived at the fair yesterday I was surprised to see that I had no space whatsoever. To my left, a wall. To my right, a woman with a behemoth of a display encompassing table, rails, bins, boxes and stand. With both of her parents in tow. I couldn't fit my rail and my table, so I had to choose just one. After much hand-wringing and teeth-gnashing I chose the rail, meaning all my t-shirts stayed in the suitcase. The lowly rail stood alone, and looked pathetic. I stood behind it, and also looked pathetic. 'What am I going to do?' I thought, 'This is wrong.' I contacted the police:

Well, technically I texted Friend Sarah, who happens to be a policewoman. But she wouldn't help me because it was her day off or there would have been too many forms to fill out or something. With Blue Suicide ruled out, I asked the organiser if they had any smaller tables and we found a toddler craft table no more than two feet off the floor. The only place to put it was inside and underneath my rail, which is just plain silly. Even sillier was that I had to stand behind my rail, and being short meant that no one could see me. And I had to rather dramatically pull the clothes aside and talk to people through the rail. I think it made me seem mysterious. Or perhaps just mental.

This is how I do not like my stand to look. That's me on the right, behind my rail, with a pygmy table at my knees. Why? Because when I arrived at the fair yesterday I was surprised to see that I had no space whatsoever. To my left, a wall. To my right, a woman with a behemoth of a display encompassing table, rails, bins, boxes and stand. With both of her parents in tow. I couldn't fit my rail and my table, so I had to choose just one. After much hand-wringing and teeth-gnashing I chose the rail, meaning all my t-shirts stayed in the suitcase. The lowly rail stood alone, and looked pathetic. I stood behind it, and also looked pathetic. 'What am I going to do?' I thought, 'This is wrong.' I contacted the police:
Well, technically I texted Friend Sarah, who happens to be a policewoman. But she wouldn't help me because it was her day off or there would have been too many forms to fill out or something. With Blue Suicide ruled out, I asked the organiser if they had any smaller tables and we found a toddler craft table no more than two feet off the floor. The only place to put it was inside and underneath my rail, which is just plain silly. Even sillier was that I had to stand behind my rail, and being short meant that no one could see me. And I had to rather dramatically pull the clothes aside and talk to people through the rail. I think it made me seem mysterious. Or perhaps just mental.
Sunday, 19 July 2009
10
Treefest: Day two debrief
Today was off to a good start, because I had Friend Sarah in tow to keep me from committing harakiri company. Until we got to the field. Tent, tent, tent, tent, no tent. 'Hey Sarah,' I said, 'look, no tent!' I left my tent overnight, as did everyone else. But whose tent wasn't standing in the morning? That's right, mine. It was dissembled on the ground. 'Hmm, guess we'll have to put it back up,' I puzzled. As we started to collect the poles, one of the event staff came over. 'Good luck with that,' he smirked. 'Did you take the tents down overnight?' I asked. Because it was stormy during the night with some seriously heavy rain. 'Nup, I tore it down this morning.' I didn't think tore sounded like a very good verb. 'See, when I came in this morning, your tent was upside down on top of that tent.' Me and Sarah looked at where he was pointing. 'My tent was upside down? On that tent?' We looked again. 'Yep, it's legs were sticking up in the air.' I had a mental image:

'So I had to take it apart, and most of the poles are broken. You'll not get it back together again,' he said. 'Whatever, Humpty Dumpty. This tent is going back together again. I am not buying a new tent every single outdoor fair I do.' So Sarah and I set to task, with a lot of tape and some cardboard to reinforce the breaks. We were nothing if not ingenious. Well, nothing if not ingenious and delusional. 'What am I going to do?' I asked Sarah, 'We have to have a tent!' Because the sky looked like this:

'Well, we can't borrow his one,' I thought, looking across the way:

Another vendor suggested we ask the organisers if we could have one of their tents for the day. You know, the ones they put up so the public could cower underneath them and not get wet. And luckily they agreed.
Here's Sarah in a rare non-t-shirt-chasing moment:

Yes, she does have a scarf on in July. And here's me and my depressingly over-stocked table:

And here's the sky by the time I got home:

And here's God laughing:

'So I had to take it apart, and most of the poles are broken. You'll not get it back together again,' he said. 'Whatever, Humpty Dumpty. This tent is going back together again. I am not buying a new tent every single outdoor fair I do.' So Sarah and I set to task, with a lot of tape and some cardboard to reinforce the breaks. We were nothing if not ingenious. Well, nothing if not ingenious and delusional. 'What am I going to do?' I asked Sarah, 'We have to have a tent!' Because the sky looked like this:
'Well, we can't borrow his one,' I thought, looking across the way:
Another vendor suggested we ask the organisers if we could have one of their tents for the day. You know, the ones they put up so the public could cower underneath them and not get wet. And luckily they agreed.
Here's Sarah in a rare non-t-shirt-chasing moment:
Yes, she does have a scarf on in July. And here's me and my depressingly over-stocked table:
And here's the sky by the time I got home:
And here's God laughing:

Saturday, 18 July 2009
12
Treefest: Day One debrief
Weather fail:

Attendence fail:

Rail fail:
I orderd two extra rails on Wednesday, with overnight shipping. They're not getting delivered until Monday. My rail is c-r-o-w-d-e-d.
Table fail:

Laundry line fail:
The arrows indicate how they took turns getting blown up onto the tent roof and then sticking on the wet canvas
Competition fail

Child labour law fail

It's a shame that Failblog has already been registered or I'd be snapping that shit right up.
Attendence fail:

Rail fail:
Table fail:
Laundry line fail:

Competition fail

Child labour law fail
It's a shame that Failblog has already been registered or I'd be snapping that shit right up.
Saturday, 13 June 2009
5

I've booked another last minute fair for tomorrow. Outside. As my bloggy friend Rhubarb Crumble pointed out:
That's right, everyone should go out and buy supplies. Because "Me Doing a Fair = Terrible Weather". I've had monsoon, I've had tornado. I think that leaves blizzard, hurricane, flood, earthquake, volcano, and tsunami. And those are just the natural disasters. If you want to open it up to signs of the impending Apocalypse, there's lots of other things that could happen. From medieval sources (because I'm dorky like that), I should also prepare for fire to rain down from heaven. Or stones. Or blood. Or maybe some hailstones the size of eggs. Possibly with 'eyes, faces and tails'. Yikes. Poison gas that turns men to stone. I can cope with all of that, I rented a proper market stall. But what I am really frightened of is: raining snakes and toads. Toads? Cool. Snakes? My own personal hell. *shiver*
Just to warn you...

I've booked another last minute fair for tomorrow. Outside. As my bloggy friend Rhubarb Crumble pointed out:

Monday, 8 June 2009
12
The very short, the short and the long
I'm sure everyone has been waiting with bated breath for tales of my fair. Well, lucky readers, I'm offering not one, not two, but three roundups: The very short, the short, and the long. Like if 'Choose your own adventure' did tragi-comedy.
The Very Short: A picture tells a thousand words.

The Short: A Twitter conversation limited my debrief to 140 characters.



The Long: Another outdoor fair courtesy of Apocalypse Events.
Anyone been to a craft fair in a tornado? It's pretty challenging. Although the rain was light and intermittent, the wind was relentless. I knew I was in for some drama when I put my table up and it blew over. And then put my first stack of t shirts onto the table and they promptly blew off on to the ground. I was forced to put the side walls on my tent to try to deflect the wind around my table, but the wind actually ripped my sidewalls. It split the sidewall zipper from top to bottom. While trying to repair the damage, roughly 50% of my t-shirts blew across the field. As I chased my t-shirts, my hanging rail blew over, scattering dresses far and wide. The wind was putting so much pressure on my tent supports that they buckled and broke. And cut the top of my head.
What's a girl to do? Cry behind a tree of course. Kindly stallholders helped me out, offering more stakes and ropes and cable ties. And advice: 'Customers don't buy from people who are freaking out'. Which is true. I did sell a lot more when I wasn't crying.
At the end of the day we had to bin my tent (only the second time I've used it) and head over to B&Q to buy another one. This one had rigid poles instead of multi-jointed ones and it fared much better on day two of the Apocalypse. It helped that I staked it down every six inches and tied it to two trees. And used almost 100 cable ties securing everything that might move to anything that shouldn't.
By the end of the weekend, I probably burnt enough calories chasing and collecting my clothes that the consoling pieces of carrot cake didn't count. My money belt was adequate but not overflowing. It helps that the pitch was incredibly reasonable. But I'm in a quandary now. I haven't paid for Treefest yet, it's very expensive and outdoors. And based on the weather I've had for my outdoor fairs so far this summer, perhaps too much of a gamble.
The Very Short: A picture tells a thousand words.
The Short: A Twitter conversation limited my debrief to 140 characters.




Anyone been to a craft fair in a tornado? It's pretty challenging. Although the rain was light and intermittent, the wind was relentless. I knew I was in for some drama when I put my table up and it blew over. And then put my first stack of t shirts onto the table and they promptly blew off on to the ground. I was forced to put the side walls on my tent to try to deflect the wind around my table, but the wind actually ripped my sidewalls. It split the sidewall zipper from top to bottom. While trying to repair the damage, roughly 50% of my t-shirts blew across the field. As I chased my t-shirts, my hanging rail blew over, scattering dresses far and wide. The wind was putting so much pressure on my tent supports that they buckled and broke. And cut the top of my head.
What's a girl to do? Cry behind a tree of course. Kindly stallholders helped me out, offering more stakes and ropes and cable ties. And advice: 'Customers don't buy from people who are freaking out'. Which is true. I did sell a lot more when I wasn't crying.
At the end of the day we had to bin my tent (only the second time I've used it) and head over to B&Q to buy another one. This one had rigid poles instead of multi-jointed ones and it fared much better on day two of the Apocalypse. It helped that I staked it down every six inches and tied it to two trees. And used almost 100 cable ties securing everything that might move to anything that shouldn't.
By the end of the weekend, I probably burnt enough calories chasing and collecting my clothes that the consoling pieces of carrot cake didn't count. My money belt was adequate but not overflowing. It helps that the pitch was incredibly reasonable. But I'm in a quandary now. I haven't paid for Treefest yet, it's very expensive and outdoors. And based on the weather I've had for my outdoor fairs so far this summer, perhaps too much of a gamble.
Monday, 11 May 2009
7
Do you like my commerorative t-shirt? Sitting around in the sub-artic, gale-force, typhoon conditions wreaked havoc with my body and I am now very poorly as well as depressed. And for the record, getting a bloody nose and hiding under your table until it stops will create a buzz about your space, but won't increase sales.
So it's back to business as usual for me... For the uninitiated, this means tracing patterns on the floor til 2AM. I have finished my 230m roll of paper and have ordered another. *Sigh*
Hey ho...

So it's back to business as usual for me... For the uninitiated, this means tracing patterns on the floor til 2AM. I have finished my 230m roll of paper and have ordered another. *Sigh*
Saturday, 9 May 2009
17
Good news, Bad news
Day two of my own personal hell the fair. Notice anything odd about this picture I took on my sojourn to get lunch? Last year, when it wasn't raining and / or freezing, this picture would have had tens of thousands of people in it. This picture has one person in it, and they are wearing a shirt indicating that they are one of the fair's workers.
As I remembered my camera, I thought I'd share some pictures of my space.
Although a fiscal disaster, today wasn't all bad:
As I remembered my camera, I thought I'd share some pictures of my space.
My rail
My t-shirts
Me and Friend Sarah
Although a fiscal disaster, today wasn't all bad:
- I got to hang out with Friend Sarah all day.
- I overheard a lady saying 'Oh, it's Kitschy Coo' to her friend, like you would say 'Oh, it's Marks and Spencer'.
- I saw not one, but two little girls wearing dresses that I made and sold last year.
- I met a someone who reads my blog. It blew my mind.
- I met a kindred spirit in one of the other sellers. She's also a North-American expat and has lived in Edinburgh for ten years. She's crafty. She likes cutting things out. She's shy. She stays up very late at night making things. She sent her Mom a picture of her hugging her guillotine to show her how much she loves it. Yay!
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