duckie feets

dancin duckie feets

hopefully its a raindance, we could do with a good downpour.

when I was a kid my mum used to drag me, usually kicking and screaming, out of bed at an uncivilised time on sunday mornings to go to the craft fair on the armstrong bridge in newcastle. I hated it, it was every sunday and the day dragged, made even worse by my utter hatred of being out in the sun on hot days. I had friends there to talk to (all adults) but it was soooooo dull, so my best friend had learned some kind of slavic rain dance at school (she went to a different school to me) and we performed it every saturday for months, constantly hopeful, because rain was the only thing to stop the dreaded trip to the bridge.

I’m sure I used to eat all of mum’s profits anyway, the boredom made me hungry and whiny, so breakfast and second breakfast were always the excellent samosas from the pakistani greengrocer on the corner (his wife made them everyday, they were yummy), then as many burgers as I could blag from the van on the bridge.

then there were the days when she sulked because I made fluffy spiders and made more money than she did (And if anyone wonders where the fairground trend for bugs on sticks came from, spiders, bats, butterflies and bumblebees on sticks were all my idea when I was 11, and from there all the adults copied them, badly and cheaply- mine were actaully pretty well made – the bats had real leather wings with leather I scrounged from a guy who made handbags and sold them on the bridge, the spiders had poseable pipelcleaner legs and the butterflies had sequins on their wings, those things saw me through uni though, I must have made thousands by the time I graduated)

~ by opusanglicanum on August 29, 2022.

4 Responses to “duckie feets”

  1. Thank you for this entertaining glimpse into your early entrepreneurial days! I hope you get your rain.

  2. Here’s hoping for a more effective rain dance, since it’s been stitched as well!

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