Bloody awesome indeed!
On Friday, as threatened, I went to the book fair. Had my coffee, sat in the car. Did some jewellry making in the car in the warm sun (although it was a bit of a brisk day). Nearly dropped dead looking at the line up to get in. Literally HUNDREDS of people. EEEEE!!!!
I discovered that I have three main phases of the Lifeline Book Fair.The "I'm so happy and at peace" stage: This is where the sun is shining, people are friendly and chatting, I am amused and made very happy by the amount of kids and their parents bonding over the hunt for the books to come. The magies are out busking for food. It's magic. The doors open and everyone pours into the building in an orderly manner. I spend at least an hour doing the royal tour of the catagories. I start collecting.
The "Crap my back is really starting to hurt and why the hell didn't I remember to bring a box on wheels?" stage: This is where I start regretting having the coffees and Diet Coke, as I am now BUSTING but have an armful of books.... Small babies are starting to get fractious. I drop the books, do a bolt to the loo, wash hands. pick up my books and go back to browsing. Toddlers are now joining in the whinging.
The "Get me the fuck out of here!!!" stage: The baby wailing Eurovision competition is now in earnest. Bloody hell people, don't expect these poor wee ones to last more than an hour... Go away. Please remove your screaming under five year olds. I am ferreting through my handbag for the emergency stash of Panadeine... There are two babies, one each side of me about five metres away, doing a synchronised scream session. Then they start tasking turns, like some weird bloody bird call. This is rapidly becoming hell. I realise that I haven't cleaned the kitchen and the Darlinge is going to open the door in a few hours to the kitchen from hell... There's a line up to pay for books that's at least sixty people long. I drag two HUGE bags o booty to the nice lady waving the flag, because I can't lift them any more. I pay. I'm gone.
And I know that I'll do it all again before the weekend is over, as I promised to take the kids...
On the brighter side of all of this, I dropped off a whole bundle of "Walkabout" magazines from 1965 (a good year!) to Mum and Dad, as they have been feeling a bit depressed. We spend a happy hour looking over these vintage treasures. Everybody feels much better. I leave Mum and Dad exclaiming over the remember whens.
There are fresh doobries waiting, and it's now 10:42pm. More tomorrow, plus pics of my book fair booty..... Avast.