A Tale of Woe & Things More Weird Than Woe

The culprit.

We love our pets, right?  And we never feel like strangling them, right?

Actually, I didn’t feel murderous but I was quite upset at Mischka’s escapades this week.

For some years we have owned a beautiful old Carltonware bowl, in excellent condition.  My favourite piece of ceramic, and certainly the most expensive we’ve ever owned.  We bought it for a song, but old Carltonware has appreciated nicely over the years and now we would never dream of spending that much money on a bowl.

For safe-keeping, it has been lodged on the top shelf of a glass-fronted bookcase.  And there it has safely sat for the entire time we’ve owned it.

But this week the bookcase door was left momentarily open.  You know where this is going, don’t you?

Mischka immediately took the opportunity to inspect The Forbidden Zone.  She’s never been allowed inside the bookcase, and its lure was impossibly attractive.

She took a wild leap at the top shelf, which from a standing start would have been impressive for any cat let alone a klutz like her.  And, of course, she missed.  She scrabbled for purchase, pulling out a book, which in turn crashed into the bowl, which didn’t bounce well when it hit the ground.  A million pieces is not an exaggeration.  Not much, anyway.

And boy did she run.  A purple streak flew by on its way to the verandah, so fast that at first I had trouble identifying who it was.  But there is only one purple cat at our house.

The disaster.

Identifying the perpetrator was made easier by the fact that she immediately returned to the scene of the crime, to inspect the damage.

Apart from an extended wail of “Noooooooo!”, and perhaps one or two unseemly words, there was no yelling.  Certainly none directed at Mischka.

But she knew she had done wrong.

She spent the rest of the afternoon sitting on me and Doug in turn, putting her paws around our arms, necks, stomachs - anything she could reach - for an extended pussycat cuddle, with lots of head rubbing and head-on-an-angle endearing looks.

How can you resist pussycat cuddles and head-on-angle endearing looks?  You can’t.  Cats practice these looks in front of the bathroom mirror when no-one is looking, for exactly this eventuality.

How fortunate that I subsequently spoke to the very creative Vicki, who makes jewellery and has offered to rebirth at least some of the shards into something nice.  So we shall have a permanent reminder of Mischka the Klutz Kat’s Krime hanging around my neck or dangling from my ears.  Photos will be supplied in due course.

You still love me, don't you?

In other news, there I was sitting at my stand at the Yandina Country Market on Saturday.  It was the third time we’d taken a stand at this market, and we’ll do so for the rest of January and revisit our plans then. 

Anyway, there I was sitting at my stand, when a woman approached me and said Can I show you a picture of my toilet?  This isn’t a question I’m often asked.  Okay…., I said cautiously.

It turned out to not be as weird as I was expecting, because she had purchased a stained glass window from us some time ago, and installed it in the room that houses her toilet.  So, not weird at all.  Really nice, in fact.

But weird was on its way.

A bit later a chap started browsing through our selection of vintage French magazine covers and advertisements.  You sell French stuff but you’re not selling Charlie Hebdo – that’s really hypocritical of you, he declared.  If you sold Charlie Hebdo I would buy it, so you should sell it.

Calypso had plenty to say on the topic.

You may have noticed our sign, I said.  It says ‘Antiques, Vintage & Retro’.  Yes he had. 

So we only sell old things.  Charlie Hebdo isn’t a really old publication, and it also doesn’t have the type of art we want to sell, I said.

I think you will agree this was a perfectly reasonable and immensely polite response, given that I’d just been loudly called a hypocrite.

But no, he was having none of it.  Well I think it’s hypocritical for you to be selling French things but not Charlie Hebdo, he said.  As usual, my left eyebrow developed a life of its own.  Doug recognizes this as an early warning sign, but our guy was oblivious to the fact that the wrath of me was about to descend upon him. 

Had you even heard of Charlie Hebdo before yesterday?, I asked.  No he hadn’t.  Do you read French?, I asked?  No he doesn’t.  So you’re suggesting that as an antiques dealer I stock a brand new satirical magazine in a language you can’t even read?, I asked. 

What’s satirical? was his response.

Sensibly, the boys kept a low profile.

There a woman standing beside him also looking at the pictures and quietly listening to this exchange.  She couldn’t stop herself groaning loudly, and she turned to look at him, incredulously.  Then she turned to me and silently gave me an open-mouthed OMG-Who-Is-This-Idiot? look.  We shared a smile, and I turned back to my nemesis.

Satire is a type of witty sarcasm, I said.  In Charlie Hebdo’s case it satires French politics and culture – you’d never even heard of it before 24 hours ago, you can’t read French, you have no idea what satire is, and I seriously doubt you know the first thing about French politics and culture in any case.  But you reckon that as an antiques dealer I’m a hypocrite for not stocking a brand new magazine so you can tell all your friends how brave you are for buying it.  Am I right?   

And I said all of that in one big breath.

Well I still think you should sell it, he said as his parting shot, before he turned and marched out.  But not before the woman who had been standing next to him said loudly You’ve got to be kidding – who is that moron?  He pretended he couldn’t hear her, but he’d have to be deaf as well as stupid.

Does that sign say 'satire sold here'?

You meet all types when you’re an antiques dealer, I told her.  And he wants to make a brave political statement from the obscurity of Yandina market – where he’s not likely to run into too many al-Qaeda operatives buying their weekly fruit and vegies.   

We agreed he was an idiot and that women are superior in every way, just for good measure.

Other than the occasional Jihadist-defying customer, Yandina is a nice country market with friendly, laid-back visitors.  It sells a good selection of reasonably priced garden plants, fresh fruit and vegetables direct from the growers, and also has small group of artisanal food producers.  There is a fair quantity of trash and treasure stands that largely sell clothes, and a growing number of second hand and vintage stands.   

Among it all are a few little gems, and the Market management told me they would be very happy if I wrote some newspaper articles on a variety of the traders there, much as I do for the Peregian Beach Market.  Yandina Market gets little publicity, but hopefully I can help change that.

And on the journalism front, so far so good.  Since last November I’ve had eight articles published, the biggest of them a two page feature in the nationally circulated magazine Antiques & Collectables for Pleasure & Profit.  It’s the best antiques magazine in Australia, so I was chuffed to get a gig with them.

That magazine’s Editor has now invited me to write a series of articles for them, and the first will be published in the autumn edition (out in March).  Plus I have two articles going into the winter edition.  What a pity it’s only published quarterly, but they’ve scheduled me for every edition in 2015 and are already talking about 2016, so this has been a good boost to my confidence as a writer.  More on this as it happens.

Lots of vintage now at Peregian Market.  I'm writing an article on it.

The Benefits of Going Topless

The view from our new spot at Peregian.

Well here’s a new development.  Through some dark magic, involving no intervention by me, it suddenly appears that you are able to subscribe to the Blog again.  Yay for dark magic!  So if you want to subscribe you go right ahead, and hopefully future missives will just appear in your intray.  Fill in your email address in the 'Follow by Email' field on the right, and we’ll see what happens.

So, in the spirit of writing a little bit often, rather than nothing for ages and then hitting you with a great long missive, here is this week’s little bit:

It was back to the Peregian Beach Market last Sunday.  What a charming market that is.  And now we have been moved into our Forever Spot, which is on the main walkway to the beach, so we have sand under our feet and a nice ocean view.  And it turns out to be the pretty boy corner of the market in terms of the vendors, so again it’s a nice view.

Ab-Man working it with the girls.

 

 

 

One of the lads really works his charms with the ladies, and it’s depressingly effective.  After setting up his stand the first thing he does is take off his shirt, revealing what must be said are quite impressive abs.  And the girls come flocking.  When I say girls, I mean girls of all ages – even matronly types get all giggly and girly around him.  It’s revealing in more ways than one – the power of a good looking person to lay on the charm and in doing so generate sales. 

There is a coffee seller at the Caloundra Street Fair whose sales are directly impacted by what his trusty (and ample) assistant wears to work.  When she’s wearing a va-va-voom top, sales spike.  When she’s all demure, sales are about normal.  That’s sad people.  And when I say people, I mean men.  Eyes on the coffee cups boys, not the D cups.

Italian End-of-Day glass fish.

Still, I can’t be too holier-than-thou about this when I’ve been enjoying the view from my new spot at the Peregian Beach Market.  Not that I bought anything from Ab-Man.  Perhaps it’s because I’ve withstood the charms of countless flirtatious Frenchmen trying to sell me something that I have developed an immunity to Ab-Man’s efforts. 

He can flaunt his muscular, brown body, damn fine abs, charming, slightly roguish smile, and tousled surfer hair all he likes.  Really, all he likes.  But it will take more than that to part me from my cash.  Still, I encourage him to keep trying.

A selection of jewellery at Collective Haus.

The news this week is that we have put a jewellery cabinet in a nice little antiques shop in Yandina, on the Sunshine Coast.

It’s called Collective Haus, and it’s in an old church building.  It sells a bit of everything, but Suzy the owner has thing for vintage fashion and there are plenty of affordable and nice pieces.  So I figured that vintage French jewellery might be a nice complement to her stock.

Gus is sweet but not as cool as a Bengal.

We might put a bigger cabinet in Collective Haus in due course, but we’ll start with the jewellery and see how it goes.  I have a great collection from our last buying trip, and I only offer a few pieces at Peregian Beach Market, so this venue will allow me to offer a bigger selection.  

It’s a nice shop, with an adjoining coffee shop, and worth visiting.  Doesn’t have a shop cat but you will be greeted by Gus, the friendly little shop dog.  He’s sweet but not as cool as Caleb and Calypso – but then, who is?

In terms of the markets, we're at the Caloundra Street Fair this coming Sunday (14 December),  and then one more stand at Peregian on 21 December and that will be it before Christmas.  If you come to visit, we promise to not take off our shirts.

Kindly Keep Your Minions Under Control

Champagne ad, c1948, $38

Well yes, it’s been a while between blogs.  But lately I’ve been writing for newspapers and magazines, and I’m making some headway with that.  Though I must say, I have come to hate Sub-Editors.  Most Editors seem reasonable but their evil Minions, the Sub-Editors, like to change my pearls of wisdom just for the sake of change (I reckon).

Can you imagine changing a single word I write?  No, of course you can’t.  That’s why you’ll never be a Minion.

Some years ago, when I ran the Australian Consulate in the UK, every month I wrote a two-page spread in a British newspaper answering Letters to the Editor on immigration matters – general Australian policy and individual cases.  I got to be all Judge Judy with everyone who was plain silly or outright lying and it was quite cathartic.  That’s when I learned how much the English like a good spanking, even if only a literary spanking.

The deal I had with the British Editor was that he would fend off his Minions, and not a single word I wrote could be changed.  And seeing how he wanted me more than I wanted him, he agreed to my terms.  
 

Perfume ad, c1965, $20

But I’m finding that Australian Editors (and their Minions) are less indulgent of my rabbiting on.  So lucky I have youse guys, who indulge me at every turn.

As for Life In General, things have gone on as usual.  The November Collectorama antiques and collectors fair was hugely successful, so it’s good I wasn’t planning to write about it because I was too busy selling stuff.  And keeping hydrated with iced-water because it was hot, hot, hot. 

This time there was only one bloggable customer, who strode into my stand with a big t-shirt proclaiming “L’amour is the answer”. 

Ah, I said, let me guess that you’re a Francophile.  A wot? she said.  A person who likes all things French, I explained.  Why would you say that? she asked.  Because of your t-shirt, I said.  She looked at me blankly.  L’amour is the answer, I said.  She got more bovine by the second.  Love is the answer, I said, Your t-shirt says Love is the answer.  L’amour is French for “love”.

Really?  Is that what it says? she asked.  My daughter gave me this t-shirt and I never knew what it said.  Lucky it doesn’t say “get stuffed the lot of you” then, I laughed. 

Alcohol ad, c1953, $25

Fancy wearing a t-shirt saying something you don’t understand.  It makes me think of those numpties who believe they’re getting a profound Chinese proverb tattooed on their bicep, when it really says I Am A Numptie and they don’t know because they can’t read Mandarin.  I would love to meet someone who has “Loser” tattooed in Mandarin on an exposed bit of their body. 

There is a lady who frequents Eumundi who has “I love Nootsa” tattooed on the back of her neck.  She was blissfully unaware of the mistake until laughing friends pointed out that she should have written down what she wanted, rather than mispronounce “Noosa” to the tattooist.  The “t” has now been disguised with a little flower, but those of us who know the true story can’t help but chuckle every time we see her.

But I digress – and yes, if you were a Minion you would be champing at the bit to delete the previous two paragraphs.  But sucked in, cause you’re not.

So that was Collectorama for the year.  The next one isn’t until March 2015, so we shall continue at the Peregian Beach Market and Caloundra Street Fair on alternate Sunday mornings in the meantime.  We’re also thinking about a Saturday morning market at Yandina, and we’ll try that soon and see if we want to make it a regular outing.

Life at the Sunday morning markets has been so hot lately, and sales haven’t been significant for anyone.  We keep hearing about the boom in retail sales, but that isn’t what we’re living.  The antiques shop situated behind our Caloundra Street Fair stand opened seven months ago and has already asked us to buy them out, so they’re not feeling the love, either.  But we’re done with shops, unless they’re Pop Up shops.

Alcohol ad, c1953, $22

The hot weather has kept most of the Strange Ones away from the Markets, it seems, although we did have one at Caloundra recently.  

She was a much larger lady, heavily tattooed, wearing a hot pink singlet that was a little too tight, and with an unrestrained bosom she could have tucked into her belt.  She was looking at a French martini advertisement.  Do you enjoy the occasional aperitif? I asked. Wot? she said.

I pointed to the picture she was holding.  The Martini advertisement, I said, to indicate what I was talking about.  Wot? she said again.  And my mind went blank.  I literally didn’t know how to translate my sentence into Bogan. 

Finally I said Some French people like to have a pre-dinner drink, it’s called an aperitif.  I just like to drink, she said and shuffled off.  Nuff said.

Where are all our non-Bogan customers?  Turn up!  We’ll be at the Caloundra Street Fair again this coming Sunday, 30 November (being the 5^th Sunday of the month).  Christmas is coming, non-Bogan customers! 

 

 

25 Oct 1919, $56

PS.  Are you reading this, Veronica Moran?  If so, would you mind emailing me at ddpalmen@yahoo.com.au?   

I am writing a couple of articles for some travel magazines on the Clignancourt and Porte de Vanves Markets, and I would love to get some quotes from you about what you thought about Porte de Vanves and what you bought.

And that goes for any reader who has visited either of these Markets and would like to be quoted in a magazine article – I’d love to have a cyber chat with you, so please email.

What Happens at Collectorama Stays at Collectorama

How good is this for a Market spot?

While it may appear that I have fallen off the face of the planet, as I haven’t blogged for a while, in fact I’ve been beavering away on various projects.

And some of those projects are now coming to fruition.  Yay for fruition!

We’re still attending the Peregian Beach Market and the Caloundra Street Fair on alternating Sunday mornings, and that’s still fun.  Peregian is such a lovely beach location, and we always enjoy our mornings there.  Last time we had a great spot right at the beach, although where we’ll be put next time is anyone’s guess.  We really want our old spot in the (currently closed) section, so fingers crossed that the Surf Club gets the permit from Council to reopen that site.

Caloundra remains as busy as ever, and the passing crowd as weird and wonderful as ever.  Let me just say right now that if those huge sideburns that Hugh Jackman sports as Wolverine can make even him look bad, what chance for the rest of the male species?  One young man came by our stand, and I had to fight the urge to hold him down and give him a good shave.  No, no, no – if you’re not Hugh Jackman, put those hairs away.

A lovely and much more quiet
busker at Caloundra Street Fair.

And one old lady came by and closely examined our business sign.  Why do you have two “u”s in your name? she asked.  Because that’s how ‘Continuum’ is spelt, I explained.  Are you sure? she asked.  Pretty sure, I said.  But she wasn’t convinced that I could spell my own business name correctly and tottered off, shaking her head.



Our Caloundra buskers are now a lot easier to live with – one is a human/insect hybrid on stilts, and the other a quite sprightly old chook.  Last Sunday Banjo Busker made a guest appearance in his role as wandering minstrel, and this time he played - and played, and played again before he went away - an extremely jaunty, double-beat version of Ghost Riders in The Sky.  Nightmare visions have never been so cheery.



I did very enjoy the Pop Up shop we had in Eumundi and would happily have another, but on the other hand working only one morning a week at the Markets has its advantages. 

Did you know I'm in the habit of
accosting old ladies with walking
frames and making them do
tricks for me?

We met with a delusional landlord in Eumundi with a view to having another Pop Up shop but he was, well, delusional.  He wanted gobsmacking rent, the place was incredibly dirty and shabby, there were holes in the floor, walls and ceiling – enough for rain to get in and ruin our stock (not to mention rodents, snakes and robbers), plus we would have to pay the electricity bill of the former tenant who ran off without paying it, before we could have the electricity turned on for ourselves.  If you’re a landlord and you’re wondering, yes, this is the very definition of Delusional. 



So the Pop Up hunt continues.  An intriguing and this-will-probably-work proposition has been put to us, but nothing will come of it until some time next year.  But having a Pop Up once or twice a year would suit us nicely, so we might have to chill until then.

Last Friday night we took our first stand at the Thomas Street Night Market at Noosaville.  That kept us up past our bedtimes, that’s for sure, but it went okay.  Nothing great, but we were very much the odd-stand-out in a mass of ready-to-eat food stands.  But we’ll do it a few more times and see how it goes.  The crowd was huge and the weather was lovely and for only one evening a month (third Friday of the month, if you’re interested in coming along) we’ll have a go.

Each of these frying pans and saucepans are over
100 years old, except the one on the far right
(with lid), which is over 200 years old.

That means lots of tarting up of more giant wooden boards has gone on, we’ve dug out the last of our French wire egg baskets, and I finally convinced Doug to surrender some of his personal collection of vintage copper pots and pans.  We have sold out of our stock copper, so I got to delve into the forbidden depths of Doug’s collection.  But he still has more than enough, and kept anything he particularly wanted, and I’m now back to having a good selection to sell.

Meanwhile, the next Collectorama antiques and collectables fair is taking place on this coming Saturday 1 November, at the Nambour Showgrounds.  It’s the last one for the year, so if you’re able to come by to visit that will be great.  The next one won’t be until March 2015.

We still have a nice selection of
enamelware and kitchen implements
to show at Collectorama.

I didn’t blog about what happened at the September Collectorama because what happens at Collectorama stays at Collectorama.

No, that’s a lie. 

Actually, that’s a big lie. 

Because what happened at the September Collectorama is going to be published for all and sundry to read about.  The next edition of the magazine Antiques & Collectables for Pleasure & Profit will be publishing a feature article by me on what happened at the September Collectorama.  So cast your mind back, everyone who visited us then.  What did you buy? Did you dress daggy or nice?  And who were you with – anyone illicit?  Oh dear, that was early September – are you sure you remember? 

Well guess what – I took notes!  And photos.  And a bunch of you who visited got a mention in my article, although I won’t know what changes the Editor has made, if any, until the magazine is published.  But I’d be buying a copy of it, Alan and Carlyle, if I were you.  Just saying.  It will be on the shelves in December.

If we have another Pop Up shop Caleb will
be one of the Managers.

Meanwhile, I have been writing business profile articles for the Sunshine Coast Daily newspaper, and the first of those has now been published.  And I’m pitching some bigger newspapers on a few political articles, and a British magazine on a travel feature.  So we’ll see what comes of all that.

Not having the shop has given me more time on my hands, so I’ve decided to be a freelance journalist.  Blogging is fun, but it’s funner to be paid for what you write.  So if you’ve got any scoops, be in touch.  You could be my Secret Source.  You could be my Deep Throat.  Come on, it’ll be fun!  I probably won’t be prepared to go to prison to protect you as my source, but you can feel better in knowing that the Feds will have to pay me a lot to break my silence.

Mischka probably won't get a run as Shop Manager
because she's too cuddly-snuggly.  That's
lovely at home but doesn't work in a shop.

So that’s what’s been happening lately.  If you’re planning to come to Collectorama on 1 November be sure to wear your lippy because I might well photograph you.  And if you could oblige by doing something amusing or stupid – preferably amusingly stupid – you’ll give me fodder for a future article and I’ll make you famous.