The Last Car Boot Sale

Car Boot Sales!

I have promised Iron Man that this really is the last one.  It’s going to have to be as no loft means no hoarding.

This one has had to be hardcore though.  Alarm set for 3.45, leave by 4.30.  Never before have we been so committed.  The Kid had a sleepover and the attention seeking rabbit was left with enough supplies to see her through the morning.

There is no room for the 7.00 sellers these days.

You end up in the cow-shed and go home with everything you came with and 25p.

That’s enough to rock any marriage.

So here we are at Dunton in Essex and for the first time in weeks, I’m cold.  So cold that I’m tempted to start dressing myself in the very items I am selling.

This will probably be the closest I will get to a modelling career in brown leather boots and a Pom Pom scarf.

In fact, I’m glad to see it’s not just me that’s cold because there are people here shopping in their fleecy pyjamas.

I often wonder what possesses people to get up at such an ungodly hour to buy other people’s toot but wild horses couldn’t keep them away.  Just as well really.

We are rather departmental this time around and Iron Man could easily be cast as Mr Selfridge as he stands over the merchandise negotiating with purchasers that are interested in the giant inflatable champagne bottles.

As I sit in the car, I feel proud that he has stuck to his guns and held out for 50p per bottle. Especially after the effort of blowing them both up.

This is despite being offered 50p for two.

Sale agreed!  Inflatables Are Us!

Our Christmas section has been unveiled and as I have said before, it would rival Harrods.

The 3 sided tree is out in all its glory.  No shift so far.  People keep wanting to buy all three at a heavily discounted price.

I’ve had to impose a limit of one per customer.

No one needs 3 trees.

I can vouch for that because they have been sat in the loft for years.  I am doing these people a favour in not taking their money.

And as for the three sided tree – well, rooms will always have corners.

There will always be a need.

Trade is picking up slowly, very slowly.  As I sit in the car nursing my chilblains,  I can hear Iron Man engaging with more customers.  I think he may have cracked a joke too.  Time to investigate and the sun is out.

I am seriously wondering to myself though whether the days of the car boot are over.  It’s much quieter than it used to be.  Maybe we have chosen a good time to retire and bail out.

It has been a very long slog.

Lots of bartering and haggling and fun.

And lots of nice people stopping by.

Many satisfied customers.

And some unsatisfied.

I am never going to let you have something for £2 if I’ve asked for £10.  This is not the way to successfully negotiate a deal.

The charity shop will always win this one.

I will also never fail to be amazed at the ability of women with Size 7 feet that try and squeeze them into a size 5 and then want a discount because they are the wrong size.  Such are the antics of these places.   You can never have enough shoes of the wrong size at times like this.

It is these things that make the whole thing worthwhile when you have stood on your feet for 8 hours.

Of course we forgot the chairs.  And of course among the 22,000 stalls, we were unable to find a pair.  This is known as Sod’s Law.

The temperature warmed up nicely over the course of the morning and as we queue to leave at 1245 after 8 hours trading, I am a little charred.

In the boot of the car is more or less what we came with.  Including the trees!!

We have made £130 in sales which is not too be sniffed at but we could probably have both done an 8 hour stint in Poundland for more.

And with the car as full as when we arrived, we go home via St Francis Hospice Charity Shop laden down with goodies for them, so nothing is going to waste.

Best seller of the day goes to Barbie.  Her late entrance proved to be worthwhile.

Her authenticity was questioned and we thought we may have to get Ken involved but she held her ground.

I gave her new owners some wise advice.

It is not OK to bend a dolls legs and arms backwards.  EVER.   It is also not OK to imply that my goods are anything other than legit.  Do we look like we are the type to house fake Barbie’s.  No.  Thought not.

Do not even think about asking me to knock the price down.

People can be cruel sometimes.

I do hope we have done the right thing for her.

And the ex soft furnishings from The Kid’s old bedroom are on their way to Thailand with another satisfied customer.

Everyone is a winner.

I can honestly say that I will never do another Car Boot Sale in this lifetime.

Iron Man and I are at one on this.

We are done with this chapter of our lives.

Promise!

The marriage would not survive.

Nicky

 

 

 

 

A Woman In A Man’s Loft

We took the ‘Man Loft’ by the horns this weekend.

There was only ever going to be one way to do this.

There is simply no time to be lily-livered.

I have surpassed my own expectations and have gone from a hoarder to a hurler (check out the arms below if you don’t believe me).

And oh how therapeutic this weekend been.

The whole house has been like a building site but my *soul is beautifully cleansed.

*Note to self – too much Shakespeare on a Friday night is not good for a loft review

So here I am on my tea break surveying the efforts of my project management.  If I’m going to do manual labour, tea is an essential.  Well actually, tea is essential full stop.

Notice I’m doing the unthinkable here and instead of showing a picture of my hot steaming Latte, I’m showing a picture of me steaming in the extra hot loft drinking my tea looking – well, Lofty.

Credit : Industrial Lighting courtesy of Iron Man

I always ask myself whether posts are going to hit the right note and be of interest before publishing.  Lofts are a bit of a dry subject and there is nothing special about mine but I’m guessing you have one too or have been on this same journey and I hope that you will humour me with this series.

(Or him!)

So upon realising he is about to lose some vital man space, Iron Man has entered into the spirit of cash in the attic and having realised he has got some pretty top retro gaming equipment, he is up and down the ladder quicker than you can shout ‘I’ll take it’.

And whilst he is caught up with the world trading markets, I am taking the opportunity to get some organisation going on in the space that he has called home for all these years.

I’m guessing there’s going to be some kind of mourning period for him as we say goodbye to the loft ladder for the last time but we are ready to catch him when he falls.

This loft is testament to the fact that I love a lever arch file.  My passion for a course is evident here.

And of course there were going to be ‘finds’.

This is the tankard presented to me when I moved on from my time in the Harrier Project Office at the Ministry of Defence.  Oh how I loved it there.  The tankard was a rite of passage presented to those that had successfully achieved membership of the Friday lunchtime drinking club.  In my early 20s, I joined the service men and women for a weekly tour of some of London’s finest public houses.  I wonder where they all are now.

And then there was the floristry business and my little van.  A real life lesson on how to go to Plan B when Plan A fails – and quickly.  Some wonderful support from family and friends for which I will always be grateful.  Lots of shoe leather, sweat and tears and recoveries from doors closing in the face.  And then success.

And the opportunity to provide flowers for some wonderful weddings, events and venues including The Queen’s House and London Zoo.  These are photos of photos so the quality is not great.

My little business which I started after quitting many years of work in the City.

I kept going through to my seventh month of pregnancy where size dicated that I was no longer able to climb into the mystery machine.

And then for a few months after The Kid arrived.

Talking of which, here she comes ……….

Look at all of that clear space!  I still cannot imagine it being a bedroom though.

And then some oldies and goodies.

A chocolate box belonging to my mother and father.  Used by my father for paperwork after the chocolates had been eaten.  He was a very organised man but also loved to keep things in case they came in handy.  There is a lesson here.

Really cute to see that they had written their names next to their favourites.  Nuts for dad and Aero and soft centres for mum.  That never changed.  With Coffee Cream and Turkish Delight being the poor relations, not much has changed there either.

And as was the East End way, the beautiful wedding china – saved for best.  22 carat gold.  One can only imagine how precious it must have been to receive these.  They are too good to be in the loft but then there is the fear of breakage.

I need to give some thought to where in the house they can be safely displayed.

So that is the first cut – still a way to go but we are on a roll now.

I have found it very easy to clear and chuck.  If things are important they stay and will be included in the fabric of the house.  Other essentials will go in the eaves.

And in lieu of a treat for The Kid for her school report, I gift her these beauties so that she may know how important it is to grasp the basics.  She will be expected to use them during the summer holidays in a logical manner, concurrent with a child of her age.

And, if she chooses to stand on them in order to reach the mirror to apply her lip gloss then she will do so will my full blessing.

Because, here within these books is a month of my life that I won’t get back.

No further education on this subject required – thank you very much.

There will now be a temporary interlude in loft updates until the big build commences.

Feel free to share your stories in my comments section.

And, once again, thank you for reading.

Nicky