Cinderella

I now know how Cinderella felt when she was scrubbing those floors and her fat, ugly sisters were preening themselves - thinking they were sooo important. Okay. It's a folk story. And yes, I'm a bit older than she was -- all right, a fair bit older, but I do have nicer shoes! The point is, she might not be real, but her story - being down-trodden and disregarded - mirrors life for a lot of people. And last Monday, it was me.

I had to clean a holiday home. I usually do this for the owners every month and they are never there. But on Monday they were, because they were having their yearly visit to their des res in the country. So I appeared, all jolly and nice - because, to be fair, they are usually quite nice to me. Although we generally only communicate via email.

'What would you like me to do?' I asked (will I ever learn NOT to say that???)

'The floor.'

'What floor?'

'This floor.'

You mean. This crappy, old quarry tiled floor with the patches of concrete where the tiles are missing - floor. The floor you insist on keeping, even though you've modernised this entire 15th century cottage, because for some reason you think it's "authentic" and, by the way, I'll eat my apron if it dates back to the 15th century. (All right. I didn't say any of that!)

'I always wash it,' I said defensively. 'It just never looks any better.'

'Ah! But do you SCRUB it?'

And with that last sweeping question I was presented with a scrubbing brush. Nothing to kneel on. Just me, my bucket, brush and a vast, crappy, old quarry-tiled floor. And while I scrubbed, the lady of the house sat in her laminated-floored lounge while her husband did something everso important on his laptop. I even had to scrub around his feet - would you believe???

With my heart and dignity on the floor I scrubbed for two hours. Realising that as nice as I thought they were, they were putting me in my place. (Don't you forget, you cleaner woman, we are terribly posh, clever people who talk like the Queen and you are here to do our bidding.)

'I've done,' I said. 'I told you it wouldn't look any different.'

'Well. At least I know it's clean,' the lady said. 'Have you time to clean all the windows?'

She must have read my mind because she took one look at the scrubbing brush in my hand and rather nervously said. 'Oh. Perhaps next time, then.'

Cup Cakes & Candy

So happy to see I have a personal mention on the latest flea/craft market poster. Patti's cup cakes - there's no turning back now. Who knows perhaps this is the start of something big and my dream to hang up my Marigolds once and for all will really come true. One thing is for sure I've become totally obsessed with baking cakes. I cannot pass the baking aisle of any supermarket without pouring over all the little jars of amazing toppings for cakes. And colours! So many colours I can make my icing. There's a whole world of edible art out there and I'm ready to embrace it.

Another day, another flea market

After my disasterous attempt at selling at this particular flea market a few weeks ago, I decided to give it another chance and, armed with all the advice from other traders, turned up like a woman on a mission! I laid out the best table I possibly could. It was colourful, varied and, hopefully, appealing. They told me to do something to attract people to my stall and boy, did I do that. With the help of my artistic son, I produced some spectacular cupcakes plus a basket of Welsh cakes. They sold like...well...hotcakes. And as they sold, people bought other stuff, too. So it worked! It was such a good day. I made friends, I made money and I really enjoyed myself. This is sooo much better than cleaning. I spoke to the organizer afterwards and explained that although cup cakes are not strictly 'flea market' was it all right to do it again? She said: 'whatever draws people to your table is fine by me.'

Some of the other traders want the name changed to flea and craft market because there are a lot of craftsmen and artists there and one girl told me my cupcakes are 'edible art' - couldn't have put it better myself! My son has now opened up a flickr account for pictures of my creations and I've booked another table for two weeks time. The funny thing is, the fellow at the next table, who sold slate clocks, asked the organiser if he could do cakes next time and apparently he wasn't the only one. Guess they saw people at my table and decided to copy me. Only one thing for it - I'm going to have to up my game for next time!!!