“I think we should cancel. The rain is pretty bad.”
“After all this cooking? Not on your life!”
So, off to the bakesale we go. We have about 30 minutes of overcast weather, then the skies open up and it gets WORSE than before (if that is possible.) Sigh.
It was a pretty bakesale while it lasted, if “pretty” counts for anything. We had balloons and boa and hershey kisses decorating the table. One man came by and bought five items (1.00 each) and gave us a ten. A woman who works next door bought thirteen items and told us she just finished chemo for breast cancer. She took our donation slip and talked her boss (a lawyer) into sending $100.00. Yippee. Even if we didn’t sell much more, that made facing the rain worth the effort. We also met the other neighbor who has an antique shop, and she bought some baked goods to put in the store. They sell coffee and food, but they chose not to bake today because they knew we were coming. That was kind. I will enjoy being their neighbor.
We had made earrings to sell, but it wasn’t as if anyone was thinking fashion today. Had we brought unbrellas for sale, we might have made a killing.
When the skies started pouring down buckets, our potential customers stood across the street under a shelter. They waved, but they weren’t willing to tackle the weather for a brownie. Meanwhile, the grass where we were setup started to flood. Uh Oh. This does not look good. As we sank deeper and deeper, I argued for closing down. Denver was determined to sit the full time. When that girl is on a mission! I had to leave at 1:00. She stuck it out another hour until the train departed. All together we had about eight customers. Dang.
People said they saw our signs and they felt badly about our bad weather luck. Only 40 people were on the train, but tomorrow, they have sold over 250 tickets and the weather should be better – only tomorrow, neither one of us is available.
In the end, we made $150, and passed out a few donation slips. We have a plan to put our leftovers into pretty baskets and deliver them to businesses, like real estate offices, with a letter asking the employees to make donations if they’ve enjoy the offering. Can’t hurt. Not like we want to eat all this stuff. I will take some to the Campbell school tomorrow for my soap making class and hit the students up for a donation. I have no pride.
Drenched and dissapointed, at least we laughed about it. In the end, something like this brings a daughter and Mom together for a few hours of damp conversation and gives us something to remember and that is worth something. And hey, if good intentions count, we’ve earned brownie points to get into heaven. If not, then at least we have the actual brownies.
Failing isn’t defined by effort that doesn’t work as planned. Failing is not trying, ya know.