what a Saturday

I took my little biscuit company to my first market on Saturday. And it was AWESOME. 

SO much fun. I've never thought about myself as a salesperson, and I still don't think I am. But damn I sold some biscuits! 

I sold out of the most popular bikkies by about 10.30am and brought home a mere 12 bags. Very relieved about that. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to sell two. 

Here's a not-very-good shot of us (no offense Dad):

2011 8 first market 202 b

Sample jars at the front. An old dude diving for his wallet. My double chin (what was I THINKING? I should be making organic sugar-free muesli. Am such an idiot.) Also Adam, holding a gluestick, pasting on my ingredients labels onto the backs of the bags as we go. I am so organised and professional, it's devastating. 

Somebody placed a bulk order the day before to be delivered at the market. It was a reasonable sized one and I wasn't back in the catering kitchen in time so had biscuits spread all over my kitchen counter on Friday night. I was heat sealing bags, labelling, and putting in tray after tray of biscuits when we had a blackout. I thought I'd caused it. 

Adam ducked outside to see if our nearest neighbours were in darkness and in that two minutes Ivy managed to fall into one of Henry's plastic toy boxes and injure herself and Tilly skidded on an aluminum drink bottle left lying on the floor. Adam returned and confirmed the whole street was out. 

After patching up the baby and lighting a bunch of candles, he went into town to get burgers for dinner, awesome man, and I tried not to think about all the things I left to the very last minute. 

I called my parents and confirmed the other side of town wasn't in darkness, so Mum's oven was my backup plan. 

After burgers by candlelight and early bedtime for the smallies, the lights mercifully came back on. Gave me a dreadful fright. 

The biscuits in the oven were even cooked. I had, however, left quite a lot of things to the last minute. And so finally went to bed after 2am, with bikkies packed, sealed and ready (without ingredients labels) and set the alarm for 5.30am. (I'm giving you the detail for a reason. Bear with me. The three hours sleep is significant.)

It was a rainy morning and I was glad to be an inside stallholder (we are hoping to get a marquee and have an outside spot in Kiama next month.) We worked very hard, we talked and sampled and sold all our stock. And it was so much fun, I adored it. 

Mum minded the kids, Tilly went off to a birthday party, we all got home at lunchtime and flopped around on the couches. The kids had their computer time (which they do together.)

'Cept after half an hour I remembered that I'd told Tilly I'd put on a DVD for her and I hadn't done it. I went round the corner into the study to ask if she wanted one on, and she wasn't with Henry. He said she'd gone out the gate. She would have had to go past Adam and I on the couches to do that. We looked in her bedroom thinking she had put herself to bed, she's been on medicine for an ear infection which makes her sleepy. Not there. Not in our bed. Not anywhere. 

We went outside. Not on the trampoline or in the garden. Not in the chookyard. Not next door with our neighbours. Not anywhere. 

Adam got in the car and drove up the road. Drove up to our friend's house at the very top of the road in case she'd gone for a visit, she has done that once before. No sign.

He came back and searched the house again while I took the car and drove down the road to our other neighbour. Not anywhere. By now I was starting to panic, I'll be honest. I realised with a sinking heart we had not seen her for about 45 minutes. Neighbours up and down the road were out looking for her. I went down to the nearest dairy on our road which she'd recently asked if she could visit. Not there.  

I came back and Adam got back in the car to go and check the river that runs under the road. Another neighbour was checking the dam nearest our house. It was at that point the bottom of my heart fell out. Panic set in, I won't lie, and I madly checked the house again. Just as Adam had, under every bed, under every couch, in every cupboard, the linen press, the pantry, it's not a big house. Not there. 

My lovely lovely next door neighbour had both Ivy and Henry and I called Dad, as I always do in a crisis, and asked them to come.

Five minutes later, as Mum and Dad pulled into the driveway, Tilly appeared on the verandah with a sleepy face. 

She looked at the people and asked us what we were doing. 

She'd been asleep in the house. On the couch. The one I had been sitting on (it's only a two-seater.) She had been underneath a big pile of pillows and cushions and blankets. 

I called Adam immediately who tracked up and down the road to make sure everyone knew we'd found her. 

Really, had she not heard me hysterically crying through the house, hoping to find her under a bed and not drowned in the dam?

She really hadn't. There was no tricking or hiding. The kid had been asleep next to me, I hadn't seen her get under the pile of cushions and it's a miracle she didn't suffocate. Also a miracle that neither Adam or I had a heart attack. 

Little bugger. 

Worst hour of my life. Without doubt.

On three hours sleep. 

Can I say though: I adore this road. I adore these people. I cannot imagine a better place to live. 

Our nearest neighbours hosted a pizza movie night that night, we had a lovely bottle of wine, the kids had a spontaneous disco, and we thanked our lucky stars. 

Hope your Saturday had more of the ups and less of the downs?



18 Comments on “what a Saturday

August 22, 2011 at 10:36 pm

OH Fiona- what a horrible ordeal to have gone through- and I am so glad it all turned out extremely well- congratulations to your first bickie market experience- and here’s to many more successes!

August 22, 2011 at 11:24 pm

That is the worst feeling in the universe. My then 2 year old did that to me last year – he was supposed to be napping in bed, escaped outside without my noticing, and was found after a hysterical search in the very bottom of the garden, in the middle of pouring rain, playing happily in the mud.
Little buggers. Take years of your life with the worry! Hope your heartrate has slowed 🙂

Hear Mum Roar
August 22, 2011 at 11:36 pm

I love the sound of your stall! If I were there I’d have bought loads. As for your daughter, well, there goes ten years of your life! My eldest, when two, had something similar happen.

We were at a friend’s house and they lived right on a busy highway. We walked through the front door, which had a flimsily latched fly screen. I made a mental to note to watch my daughter around it, being so close to the road. My friends had a grandma with Alzeimer’s staying as well, and she had a tendency to wander off…

Anyway, I turned my back in the backyard where my daughter was, and I could not find her. I looked in their cubby, under their house, everyone helped to look for her. Couldn’t find her. Checked the front door, thankfully it was latched shut. I ended up finding my daughter in my friend’s four year old daughter’s bedroom, playing with her gigantic old fashioned doll house that was bigger than her! (She was sitting behind it). She was so absorbed in that game, she had no idea anyone had been missing her. And yes, I panicked too, as we just could not find her for ages.

August 23, 2011 at 12:28 am

congrats on the cookies fi, and finding tilly….
seriously, that must of been the worst.

im debating on whether i should get these surgically implanted into my kids:

josephine hart
August 23, 2011 at 12:29 am

i haven’t been by in a couple of weeks…your stall post took me by surprise! well done!!! i’m so excited for your new venture, the labels and bags look marvellous 🙂 keep it up biscuit queen!

August 23, 2011 at 2:58 am

Oh, my heart was racing as I read of you losing your precious little girl. I m so glad the way it turned out.
Well doen with your cookie success.

August 23, 2011 at 6:29 am

Yikes. I can’t imagine what that must’ve felt like. I’ve only ‘lost’ mine for a few minutes at a time and that is bad enough. Your poor heart.

Darren (Green Change)
August 23, 2011 at 8:50 am

Well, now you know you’re going to have a hugely successful business – you’ve got an awesome “first day” story!

August 23, 2011 at 8:52 am

Oh my goodness, I have big sloppy tears rolling down my cheeks.
I know that drowsy post market time well.
I know how hard it is to think about making dinner let alone madly, panicy looking for a kid.
You poor, poor things.
Thank goodness!!!!
Thrilled with your successful market too.
Let’s hope next time’s a bit more uneventful though. xx

August 23, 2011 at 1:56 pm

What a beautiful ending…. perfect really disco and all!

August 23, 2011 at 2:12 pm

Oh the stress! I was feeling sick reading that, I think everyone has a lost child story. Thank god they usually have happy endings.

Congrats on the stall doing well. I’ve often thought about having a market stall, but haven’t ever gotten past the thinking about it stage. I think you’re very brave!

August 23, 2011 at 8:41 pm

Great work with the bikky selling! I’m glad your Tilly story ended the way it did (as I’m sure we all are). But a whole hour – that must’ve been really terrifying! Love and peace to you all, Sal xo

August 24, 2011 at 7:16 am

That was a rollercoaster day to be sure.

August 24, 2011 at 7:44 am

So perhaps I was smirking at the beginning when you seem so shocked that you had left things to very last minute (oh yes, of course, that’s never been done before) but then I was feeling very remorseful when Tilly was lost. Laughing out loud that she was on the lounge NEXT to you the whole time. Unbelievable! anyway, am very glad to hear stall was roaring success and that Tilds was indeed quite safe the whole time.

Estelle C
August 24, 2011 at 9:55 am

Oh, Fi. Tears rolling down my cheeks too. Next to you!? I quite understand though. I’ve done similar on minimal sleep. SO happy about your stall and business venture. You are where you were meant to be and I’m happy for you. x

Charley @Secret_Water
August 24, 2011 at 8:50 pm

Heart was in my mouth until I got to the happy ending! Its a horrid feeling when they give you a fright like that. Well done on the market stall!

Angela Thompson
August 24, 2011 at 9:10 pm

Firstly the Marry me Caramels are superb (and calorie free too, right?)
Secondly I experienced a fraction of your disappearing child despair. I took my four to the bowling alley for a birthday party a few weeks back. All of a sudden Joe was missing. Well I was truly truly panicked. I searched and searched. I had others searching too. Finally I heard a commotion and yes he had run down to the end of the bowling alley and was reaching in to pull out some of the pins! Nice. What really made me laugh was when the manager told me not to do down the alley beacuse it sets off an alarm. To which I replied. “No problem, next time I’ll sit and wait till you come and get him”

green ink
August 26, 2011 at 12:42 am

What a rollercoaster of a day for you Fi!

I’m going to make my comment more about your market stall and your bikkies, of which I think you should be very proud. So many people have big ideas, big dreams, but don’t do anything with them. You’ve taken the next step. Be proud my friend. There are big things ahead of you, I know. xxx


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