Wrapping It Up

 

Well, as you may be able to tell, it was a bit windy, but it didn’t rain so the dreaded flood didn’t materialise. The punters came thick and - well, fast isn’t quite the word, more like steadily – through the morning, completely disappeared all through the afternoon, then had a bit of a surge right at the end. Still, I sold nearly all the fresh stuff, which would have been wasted had it not sold (although if it goes on the compost heap, is it ever really waste?), and the dried wreaths which didn’t sell will store till next year - or even be cunningly re-jigged for Valentine’s Day.

The brave musicians sat blinking in the acrid smoke from Phil the Mill’s over-zealous brazier lighting, reassuring me that it didn’t matter that they had no audience because they needed the practice anyway (bless!) and Jo from Bath Organic Blooms heroically turned up with chocolate macaroons and encouragement.

All in all I am pleased with my first real day’s trading. It’s not a very accurate gauge of how well a flower shop would do as there weren’t really any flowers (well, except the pots of  narcissi, I suppose) but it has given me a good idea of what sort of things sell and what don’t. The hanging foliage and mistletoe balls were very popular, but the topiary balls, although they attracted a lot of compliments, didn’t sell – a bit of a relief in a way, as they were a real faff and I ended up hating doing them. I wish I’d done more pots of scented narcissi and I could easily have sold more pine-cone firelighters – all good lessons for next year.

Apart from the obvious benefit of earning a bit of cash at Christmas, and the not-to-be-underestimated advantage of not having time to worry about the usual Christmas preparations until the 22nd, it really  fired me with enthusiasm for the coming season. The winter – a real crunchy, cold winter for once – is flying by. The hellebores are out and, despite the severe frosts, the rhubarb is pushing through. Spring is tangibly close, a feeling reinforced by evenings spent poring over seed catalogues and gazing wistfully at pictures of the field in full flower, trying to remember the feel of the sun on my bare shoulders.

The next test will be trying to produce enough flowers to stock the shop by March. Bring it on!