…ask for salt and tequila!
My mother is the Queen of lemonade makers. Not literally, you understand. I’ve never tasted my mum’s lemonade… although she does make a mean Ginger beer – the real Bajan knock-you-out-just-smelling-it stuff too! (great for colds apparently…with Bajan rum) What I mean is that I remember her turning every day disasters (in my eyes) into masterpieces. Mistress pieces. Whatever. The most memorable occasion involved her baking a cake. I was excited about this particular cake. Not because it was a special occasion but because it was…well it was CAKE! I was around nine or ten so cake baking was the pinnacle of my social calendar. Girls Brigade was yet to feature so heavily in my life. Anyway I digress. So mum took this cake gingerly from the oven and we both inhaled its gorgeous aroma deeply… then watched with barely concealed disappointment as it deflated in slow motion. Mum barely missed a beat. Whilst I sobbed inwardly she disappeared into the cupboard, opened an emergency tin of fruit salad (always the emergency tin), emptied it unceremoniously into the steaming concave vessel and ‘Viola’! Fruit Flan!
My daughters have inherited my mums talents in different ways. My youngest is a lover of all things baking and whips up madeira cake when she is bored. I may never let her leave.
My eldest has the ability to add a silver lining to anything. One memorable Family Come Dine With Me moment looked set to be ruined when youngest’s chocolate mousse would not set. Disaster? Mais non! Eldest whisked our guests and me into the living room whilst she helped her little sister in the kitchen quickly rectify the situation. The result? Crepes aux chocolate – pancakes with chocolate sauce to you. Delicious!
Tonight the Lemonade making mantle was passed on to me and I was truly put to the test. I was privileged enough to be asked for the first time to participate in Sydenham Arts Festival – a local event that showcases Arts and artistes. I offered my home and my creations as part of the Visual Arts Trail which this year takes place over two middle weeks of July. I chose the final weekend – Saturday 16th and Sunday 17th July – as I had also committed to another local event, Forest Fest on 2nd July and I wanted to have enough time to prepare.
When the brochures arrived I could barely contain my excitement! Even noticing that my business name was spelt incorrectly failed to completely dampen my spirits – I was IN the brochure ! Anyway, I pondered, it was far too late to change it. It was only this evening, with three short days to go, that I double checked my entry and noticed the glaring error! My Open House dates were wrong! According to the brochure I would be welcoming clients THIS weekend!
What to do?
I started and restarted an email but I repeatedly failed to express my upset and panic. I called some contact numbers but they were all out. I needed an actual solution. So I got off my backside and went to the pub. No not to drown my sorrows! It just so happened that the organisers were holding a Q & A session at the local pub. I was able to meet with the people who’d made the mistake, discuss options, come up with some damage limitation strategies and hear their (numerous and effusive) apologies. Not exactly ideal I know but at least I had done something! I left an hour later feeling a little better and a lot more hopeful. The world wasn’t going to end after all.
So I’ve added the event (with the correct dates) to my Facebook page, created a event, mentioned it on Twitter, and blogged about it. Anyone who turns up THIS Saturday or Sunday won’t see any bags apart from the ones under my eyes (sorry). What they will find is a busily optimistic handbag designer with a conciliatory drink in one hand, a reddskinbags discount voucher in the other hand and a hopeful smile on my face. It’s the best I can do – the only way I know how – with what I’ve been given.
Wish me luck!