Charity shop update, transformation!

Charity Shop staff during refit (I'm the blonde one)

Well its been a while since I last posted and there have been some changes in the shop and my personal life.

Our charity shop received its well overdue refit during the last week of August. As charming as it was, it was becoming very apparent that everything was looking a bit too tired  (even the staff). So the shop was closed for a week so it could be gutted and painted in beautiful colours and the result was

rather amazing, in place of the quirky, traditional old-fashioned looking charity shop its was transformed into a boutique-type charity shop. So now we deal mainly in clothes, we are very lucky that we do tend to get quality clothes and accessories donated to our little shop. I've noticed a change in the type of customer walking through the door though. We no longer get so many elderly people in browsing , particularly married couples, instead its mainly middle-aged  women and younger people. A part of me does miss the old interior because it had a kind feel about it, I miss the chats with the older customers who were always so lovely with wonderful old-fashioned mannerisms and anecdotes who would always have time to chat. But charity shops are serious business in England and there is alot of competition particularly now with the recession affecting everyone. I think though, our shop will still retain a little of its uniqueness through the staff who are great fun to work with and to be honest certainly keep me on my toes.

Charity Shop update

In one respect, I am very fortunate, I actually love my job! I relish my role as an Assistant Manager in a charity shop. I am doing something I was born to do. I am lucky that I work alongside such wonderful volunteers who are willing to give their time to helping our tiny shop raise funds for our disability charity.  I love sorting through donations and helping staff beautify the little shop with wonderful finds. Its a job where I am constantly having to decide whether stock is up to standard and how much to price items. Because stock is donated it also entails trying to figure out what certain items are, how they work and if it is expensive, some idea of its origins. Every day is different.

Our shop is a little unusual because it is situated on 3 floors of an old Victorian house. The sorting room is enormous, I think it used to be a front room back in the 19th century. The windows still have their original sash chords and the fireplace is situated behind our stash of hangers. Its a lovely bright room and you can often hear the pigeons cooing in the eaves outside. There is a small yard outback which backs onto the undertakers. Quite often when we go out to the bins we are greeted by hearses  waiting to take the coffins on their final journey. Such is the circle of life, we have sacks which tell such stories of births, children growing up, teenagers, moving on and death. Great care is taken that nothing noisy is disposed of into large wheelie bins while the hearses are out there!

The shop itself although small holds a surprisingly large amount of stock.We primarily sell clothes but we also sell alot of bric a brac too.The majority of our customers are elderly so we provide a chair which is often host to husbands young and old who wait while their spouses persuse the shop floor. Hopefully we will be giving the shop a lick of paint this year to make it even more brighter and welcoming. I am looking forward to some of our display models being replaced though, they are really old, one even has a plaster on her bottom although the customers would never know it!

We are minutes away from a large Pavillion which hosts many shows and exhibitions which helps with our footfall of customers. Its lovely here during the summer. We are only a 'stones throw' away from the beach so we tend to get invasions of coach loads of holidaymakers and students( sometimes they can't all fit in!) The smell of the sea, the screeching of the gulls and the waft  of fish and chips from across the road are just the icing on the cake for me.

Moving on

I think there comes a point in life where as hard as you try to fit in and make a situation work, you just know in your heart of hearts that its never going to happen regardless of how hard you try, so it was with a heavy heart that I bid farewell to my drumming group last week. I am disappointed that it didn't work out for me, I loved the drumming side but found it really hard to form any meaningful friendships.

I initially joined after the sudden death of my best friend 2 years ago, i just felt, I needed to live a little. Its strange but although I enjoyed the dressing up and playing to audiences, I rarely felt relaxed with this merry band of drummers to the extent I never was able to let my hair down and get drunk! Upon reflection, I think maybe I was looking for something on a deeper level and maybe it was this that may have made people wary of me, I don't know but however hard I tried I just couldn't really change the situation. The turning point came when a friend told me that I could be experiencing negative karma, seeing as I couldn't really place a finger on what was really wrong. When I thought about it I did think she may have a point, the town I grew up in  has become very drab and hostile in certain places, the childhood memories, although happy are also tinged with  melancholy, losing my parents months apart during my twenties. Instead of feeling elated whilst marching down the holidaymaker ridden streets of the Old Town, I'm just sad my music loving father isn't there to cheer me on. I am certainly much happier working and living in the town next door. The residents are kind and polite and although populated largely by retired people and at times seems a little dull, it has that genteel quality about it where people have time for each other. Its strange but I do feel a completely different person when I'm there and I know in my heart there is good karma. So now I have to try again. I have now embarked on a new venture with a small group of people in the town I love. A part of me would eventually like to try and help form another drumming group here, a much smaller one where we can share mutual interest and work together in harmony and very importantly, have fun.

Ridiculous O'clock

As usual I've woken up at a ridiculously early hour. Its Sunday, my day off from work, day of chill and being with my husband and daughter and other persona wife and crazy mum. Like my late Mum, I often enjoy going out for early morning walks by myself.

My routine when the weather is good, usually involves heading for the beach nearby armed with my mP3 player and a flask of coffee. I think the local beach hut owners and fishing community have got used to seeing me lying on the beach gazing up at the sky by now and regard my activity as perfectly normal. I've been doing this for about 3 years since suffering a bout of ill-health when I injured my neck and back. It was very frightening at the time but as I eased myself back into the working community again as a volunteer, it was suggested that I tried meditation in the open. Initially I found this very hard to do, physically, because the stones would  penetrate into my back  (which back then was still on the mend) and because I didn't know how to completely switch off,I would often have a 1001 thoughts going through my mind as soon as I hit the ground. I eventually solved this problem by acquiring a portable padded lido and then with practice I gradually tuned my mind into being at one with the sky and then myself.

Another reason for waking up so early are the cats. We have two ginger cats, one short-haired who is mine called Toffee and his half brother, big fluffy version of him called Fluffy Puffs who belongs to our teenage daughter. I know animals shouldn't really sleep on the bed but Toffee always has slept at the foot of our bed and this mutual arrangement has been fine until last year when he discovered pillows were more comfy, or to be more specific MY pillows. To curb this behaviour I wnet through a period of plucking him during the night from his comfy resting place to his rightful abode at the foot of my bed and initially it worked but now he sneaks back and lies between MY pillow and the headboard, hoping I won't spot him which is really sweet but annoying when for some unknown reason he starts purring randomly really loudly around dawn.. If this isn't enough, due to the freezing cold weather his brother now sneaks into the room and lays alongside my hubby, so now hubby has to roll over to my side of the bed which makes me feel so hot and clammy not helped by the noise the cat is emitting.  I know I really should consign them both and possibly my other half  downstairs but can't quite bring myself to yet.

Meet the Little Peeps (Eccentric Knitting)

This year I'm determined to reignite my creative side which I haven't seen since I last worked as a nursery Nurse 4 years ago. However I no longer want to do 'cute and cuddly' but quirky and eccentric. I'm trying to grow an idea at the moment where I am creating small traditional 'folky folk', kind of Little England. (The expression 'There's Nowt as Queer as Folk' does keep popping up in my mind) The finished product above is one example of what I have in mind.The lady is based upon  a friend of mine who is a member of my drumming group. She has a big personality and as you can deduce she speaks as she finds, 

In order to grow an idea I need to surround myself in lots of colour and arty farty stuff. I  need to interact with creative people and somehow reconnect with my inner child. i need to tap into wicked humour and to refine my knitting and sewing skills. i have so many ideas in my head, I need to jot them down. My  mind is awhirl with puppet and cartoon  imagery which needs to be transferred to my notebook

The guy above, the Drum Leader was delighted with his 'mini-me' and posted it on his facebook site. Such as been the reaction amongst friends that I really must get off my backside and create more little folk. I really hope this year that I create a small circle of people who I can get together with to make things locally. Perhaps by writing this blog it will attract good things and it will  happen.

Thoughts of a rambling Introvert

Today is supposed to be my day off at work. Its going to be a quiet one as Daughter is unwell. She has this awful bug which has been doing its rounds both at school and Other Half's workplace. Symptoms are dry sore throat, sneezing and feeling generally run down. Hopefully, it has almost run its course but I'm going to have to try and not let rip too much at home today with the music and drumming and hoovering. Perhaps I will go out later, I need to revamp my top hat as the ribbon is looking frayed and sew some more emblems onto my tailcoat. My drum is sounding terrible at the moment, even after its been tuned, it still sounds too high pitched,  V tells me its because the black tape stretched across in in an X needs to be removed and that I probably need a new drum skin. I'm very conscious it sounds tinny and this does nothing for my confidence with is pretty low on the Richter scale at the moment.

Its strange but whilst I feel reasonably confident at work and indeed I can be quite mad and extrovert at times, I  tend to be subdued when I'm at drum practice, although I am very passionate about drumming and I love the music, I do find it really hard to socialise with other members, although they are friendly enough. I don't know why but always feel very nervous on the inside. I think I have butterfly tendencies, I'll happily talk to people individually then flutter on to the next person but I can't hold my own in a small group, particularly if its small talk which to be truthful I really don't enjoy. I tend to think of  my Dad alot when I drum, he loved music, he was brilliant on the piano and accordion,  I think drumming sometimes evokes a sadness within me which manifests itself when I'm at practice and I find myself wanting to cry when really I should  be doing solos and going ballistic.

Still bonfire season is approaching and I am looking forward to marching with the Group. I love the excitement of it all, donning my top hat and tails, laced up boots, wig and face paint, rum in the hip flask, cans of cider in my drumstick bag. The camaraderie and atmosphere is incredible. We look and sound good and we are such a tight group when we march. Its only when we strike up and begin to march and play our drums I truly feel I belong to my Group. When I don my costume and makeup, i am no longer the girl from around the block but my alter ego, Sally Drumsticks a bewitching female of wizardry tantalizing crowds with her amazing drumming.

Charity Shop Update

My stint as Assistant Manager has flown by since I joined 18 months ago. Now promoted temporarily to Acting Manager, I not only find myself knee-deep in donations and endless paperwork from HQ but having to time-manage myself to the millionth of a micro-second to cope with staff sickness and holidays. Of course, it is paramount that the shop remains stacked with interesting and alluring stock to attract every type of customer and with donations hailing from textile banks and customers its always a lottery to what you actually end up with.

 Mr X, my lovely boss who has now moved on to pastures new, trained me to be highly displined when sorting through bric-a-brac. 'Only the best will do for the shop!', he used to boom at me. The first day I put bric a brac out, I received at lecture from him regarding saucepans with 'wobbly bottoms, how unsafe they were due to being cheaply made and as to emphasise the point he made me run my hand over the unfortunate milk saucepan's bottom and then examine it at eye-level, for effect he spun it around on its axel, 'this would not happen if this was flat' he announced loudly. Point taken.

 Mr X was also a stickler when it came to cleanliness of stock and missing artefacts. Positioning bric-a-brac also could affect sales he used to say, so think carefully where you position something. One day we were presented with a middle-sized version of 'The Thinker', basically a naked man, leaning over thinking. Anatomically there was no mistaking he was male, but where to place him? Bearing in mind, many of our customers are middle-class 50 something females, it was not a good idea to give him the centre stage of our genteel arranged bric-a- brac shelf. Also not a good idea to position him to close to where Mr X used to like to stand and think either. Eventually I settled upon the second to top shelf of the bric-a-brac amongst the antiques. Of course there were the envitable comments and occasions where customers would find it amusing to turn The Thinker around displaying his butt to all and sundry. Luckily within a couple of days he was purchased for the sum of £20.