I’m writing this using up time that I should be using for other stuff.
And the “other stuff” is putting the final touches on my preparation for a small market stall I have once a month.
This time Lady Devotea will be swinging by later and joining me today will be Devotea Jr (regular readers will realise that that is our second son, as the eldest did not drink tea when I started blogging, and so was deemed to have abdicated).
This is a small market and will not be fiscally worthwhile. I anticipate over the four hours of the market - and about four hours prep – I”ll make about an hour or two’s worth of salary – and that’s not paying Devotea Jr, as he owes me some of his labour from an earlier project he failed to turn up to.
But I love the fact that dozens of people will be sampling my teas. It a brilliant form of instant feedback.
I also love the thrill of converting people from innocent passers-by to passionate supporters. We’ve only done this market once before and we have already had emails asking if we will be there again.
Last time, we had an astounding double act – I would fearlessly call out, cajole and implore people to try a sample. Then Lady Devotea would charm them and before you know it, tea in hand, they’d have moved from stranger to customer.
Even though we did the last market before Christmas, no-0ne was buying as a present – well, not for anyone else.
And I’m ready for “No thanks, I’m a coffee drinker.” I even managed to get some of those over the line last time.
This time, I’ve finagled a spot near the biscuit seller - time for a double act, I think.
So, I’m off to fight the good fight; teapots in hand; armoury of tea tales at the ready; it’s up the trench ladder and across the no-man’s land of tea apathy.
Onward we go.