Dubs on the Wye was booked as our wild card; a charity run first show hosted by, Rocky Lee's Little Feet (a commendable cause, which helps raise money for headstones for stillborn babies).  In addition to offering support for the charity, a plus point was the show’s location - the picturesque Wye Valley.  Even better, was that as we neared show time, apocalyptic weather warnings were nowhere to be seen (unusual for us). Instead, blistering temperatures rivaling the seventies were forecast!

View from our Trade Stand

We set off on Friday afternoon in our fully loaded T4 and our on-borrowed-time Mk4 Golf.  One hour twenty minutes later, we weren't disappointed with our back yard for the weekend.  With Ross on Wye's landmark church spire poking out above the hillside towering above us, there was the intimate feel of a first show and campers and traders sharing the field adjacent to the sports' centre.  The sports' centre facilities were made available to all, so instead of festival toilets, we were able to use proper porcelain toilets, a couple of showers and the centre's bar which supplied refreshments and a full English breakfast each morning.

After a fairly lengthy set-up, we just about had time for a chat to our neighbour (a very talented artist called Corine) before sun down  and had a wander around the site, before hitting the sack.  It was interesting, but we can’t remember a show where there was a notable absence of fire pits.  No need.  Man, it was shaping up to be a hot weekend!

Sunset, Ross-on-Wye

After not nearly enough sleep, we hit the ground...strolling.  Yes, I think it’s fair to say it was a very slow start.  On the Friday evening, with the traders and campers combined, it could have made for a decent party; one where you get to talk to everyone.  You get the picture.  Everyone should have been on first name terms...  

Saturday morning looked to be the same.  Gaz jokingly said to one of the organisers that he’d seen tumbleweed blowing around opposite our stand.  

(One early visitor to the stand - looking for some stickers for her bay - was this Cornish lady, back home for a visit with relatives, all the way from Australia's Gold Coast.  She had even made her own skirt for the occasion!)

Check that skirt!

The organisers agreed that more footfall was desperately needed, but we were assured that more would be arriving for the evening’s outdoor cinema event (independent of the show but next to the venue) and this would help generate trade.  Although we were sceptical, this proved to be the case, as once again, the British weather laid waste to plans.  As cinema-goers began to arrive, the decision was taken to postpone the showing until 9pm (should have been 7 pm) as the sun was too bright!  Luckily, folks were content to watch the band and buy stuff from us, so we enjoyed a little spike in trade.  However, it's fair to say that this was not one of our busiest shows.  Here are just a few things we did when we could have/should have been trading:-

1.  I had breakfast with Boba Fett.

Boba Fett, Steampunk stylee

 2.  We had a mooch around Ross-on-Wye (well Gaz held the fort, but I was on a photographic exploration and foraging for food (local burgers and sausages).

Heading into town

This dog was enjoying the hanging baskets being watered.

3.  We BBQ'd.

Gaz and his other love, cooking.

4.  We had a water fight.

5.  Gaz flew a kite (yes, believe it or not in these record breaking temperatures, we briefly had enough wind to fly one).

6.  I visited the site bar in the afternoon – just for respite from the intense heat, you understand.

7.  We all visited a riverside pub for a swift cider.  Technically, this was after 7 pm so perfectly legit, but we were able to do so guilt free.

The Hope and Anchor riverside pub, purveyor of cider.

8.  We took in a film - Grease - embracing the full outdoor cinema experience.  Last June, we were battling against driving rain and trying to prevent several gallons of water from pouring in through the gazebos and drowning all of our stock.

The one down side to the weekend was that I had a bad reaction to pollen, sun cream and the general environment! After sneezing like a train all afternoon, with a nose running like a tap and eyes stinging to hell and closing up like a prize fighter’s, I was forced to don sunglasses so as not to alarm folks at the night time screening.

Security even robbed our limited supply of booze on entry, as folks were being encouraged to buy from the bar, so really feeling full of allergens and in need of something cold, crisp and alcoholic, Gaz disappeared to purchase drinks from the bar.  Forty five minutes later he reappeared.  Apparently, he had been doing the other thing we weren’t expecting to do this weekend, and so, coming in at number 9:-

9.  Booking a band for the Mini and VW Bus Meet we’re trading at in our home town next weekend.  Long story.

Whilst Grease wasn’t our choice of film, we all enjoyed the experience and by 11pm the temperature had settled to a mere hot (not hot as buggery).

The film will start...any second now.

After a slightly more comfortable night, Sunday brought yet more pollen, a further rise in temperature, several familiar faces, much shooting of the breeze, getting sun burnt and the obligatory show 'n' shine.  

Show 'n' shine splitty.

Congratulations to Celia, who won a prize for her amazing T5, Vader.  Commiserations to Jason whose immaculate T4, lost out to another.

Vader, the winning T5.

Celia with her trophy.  And her prize for winning Best T5.

In summary, against the odds, we did OK.  Not the best, but by no means our worst trading weekend. But regardless, we didn't care.  The show was for charity and we had a brilliant weekend.  Yes, it was a little too hot, but how often do we get to say that?  We had a chilled out weekend on the Wye, with a little bit of work thrown into the mix.

Pootle, the Beetle.

Naturally, it wouldn't be a Voodoo Street trading weekend without some kind of drama.  Gaz managed to badly kerb one of the wheels on the T4 whilst trying to negotiate a tricky pull out (a jutting kerb stone certainly played its part in this).  And when packing up, he left the gazebos until last to maximise protection from the sun.  Unfortunately, at a key point in this process, the wind decided to make a brief return.  Gaz spotted one of our telescopic banners was about to be slammed into the front of our van and ran to rescue it.  Whilst his back was turned, he heard a whooshing noise and turned to see our two cable tied gazebos about 10 feet in the air.  The wind then upended them and slammed them down inches from our neighbour’s black BMW.  A close call.

Spotted leaving the show ground, this bay with our rear mounted logo sticker.

After spending Sunday evening repairing the buckled gazebos, Gaz has spent the last 2 days reviving his Mini Cooper for next week's show.  

We've got an incredible 15 feet of space, so room for a couple of show vehicles. Maybe see you there!

'Til next time!

Where The Wild Things Are

No, this isn’t a blog on Donald Trump or my state of mind when I thought there would be a Marmite shortage.  This is about a little Voodoo Street Indian summer hiatus whilst awaiting the arrival of some new products.

Well aware that October often heralds the start of the English monsoon season, we’ve been making the most of the sunshine and taking to the great outdoors. The surreal sunsets we all experienced a couple of weeks back kicked it off.  Like the rest of the central region, we shared our sunset photos on social media, naively believing that we were the only folks to have captured these fiery skies, which seemed to indicate the imminent arrival of alien visitors.  You be the judge.  Here are a couple of ours. 

The Aliens Are Coming!

Woodland Sunset

Not bad eh?  Until you see this one (below) captured by a certain Mr Salt of Penkridge, allegedly taken at the back of the local tip. 

Penkridge Recycling Centre?

Real or fake?  All we know is that the housing market has spiked in that area in recent weeks!

To avoid switching on the SAD lamp, (big f*!k off lamp which simulates sunlight and wards off the blues associated with seasonal adjustment), we’ve been hotfooting it around the place as much as possible, seeking out pockets of wilderness on our doorstep.  

Yesterday, I decided to throw on a Voodoo Street extended tee to show that girls can wear them too and to give our eyes a rest from screen use, we took off for a walk in one of our favourite places. 

Only 10 minutes by car takes us to this country estate at Enville, which is occupied by the family of the former Earls of Stamford. The family name was Grey, best known through Lady Jane Grey, who was Queen of England for just 10 days in 1553, before being beheaded by Mary Tudor.  There’s a right of way in front of Enville Hall, which leads up onto the hills.

Enville Hall Estate

  

Enville Hall's Cricket Pavillion

Enville Hall Lake

Once on the top, the views are incredible and aside from the occasional passing car, you will not hear a man made sound.

That tree has seen better days.

Pretty sure this isn’t a fashion statement, but can anyone shed any light on why this sheep is wearing a harness?  He did seem to have quite a punk attitude we noticed, aggressively nibbling at other sheep, so maybe he was influenced by Vivienne Westwood and Malcolm McLaren's style from the SEX Boutique days after all.  Or maybe I'm overthinking this.

Sheep Fashion Icon

Punk Chic Sheep

There are other forms of wildlife of course and I encountered a couple at a family member’s 80^th birthday party last weekend…and no, I’m not referring to Gaz.

A conversation with a retired farmer and his wife from Herefordshire, was pretty genteel until talk turned to their farming days.  They told me that they can still see their old farmland from their new bungalow, but that the new owner has planted trees on the land and is no longer using it for farming.  Apparently it’s his intention to grow a forest to leave for future generations.  As honourable as this is, I asked how he was making a living from it.  The answer was not quite what I expected.

“Well, he made a lot of money from magazines,” said Jean.

She could have left it at that, but instead, chose to add, in audible-to-everyone tones and with a raised eyebrow: “PORN mags!”  I had resigned myself to discussions about The Great British Bake Off, turning 80 and the weather we’ve been having, so this took the wind out of my sails!

Finally, in an unusual twist, the octogenarian in question, Jimbo, cut his cake with a ceremonial sword!  Wild thing!

  

We also headed to the Shropshire hills and paid our monthly pilgrimage to the Church Stretton Antiques Market.  I know, I know, this evokes twee images of pottery, mirrors and watercolours, but the Church Stretton Antiques Market does a good line in the bizarre and macabre, which appeals to our dark sense of humour.

For example, mounted Emu feet.  Sorry, but I just can’t take this image to the grave alone.  You have to share in it.

  

£85.00 - Anyone....?

There is also plenty of taxidermy gone wrong, but I’ll spare you from this.

Anyone know which animal this skull may have belonged to?

Horse

Here are some pretty cool and of-the-moment teapots.  I was tempted, but the eye watering prices put paid to that!

Finally, we came across this creepy ancient lift – straight out of a Hitchcock film – named after us.  The view down the lift shaft almost gave me vertigo!

  

From wildlife to wild rides, Gaz has been drawn to this rat style sit up and beg Ford Pop with its original engine but with a Heath Robinson turbo set up.  It's been ruled out of the running now, but looks amazing doesn't it?  

Next up, I will be boring you all about Halloween amongst other things.   In the meantime, stay safe and don’t talk to clowns!

Dungeons and Dragons

Why is it when we have a packed calendar, we get the fear and yet the prospect of free weekends seems exciting but also daunting?  With freedom of choice comes indecision.  How will we fill our time?  Where will we go?  Somehow, passing the time doing anything short of amazing feels like wasted time, when so many weekends have been accounted for. Panic sets in. 

I call it “the comedown.”  Regularly engaging with our supporters/friends galvanises the feeling that we are on the right track with Voodoo Street, but take away that dialogue; the festival vibes and suddenly we feel cut adrift.  Out of touch. 

Processing orders online is anonymous.  As grateful as we are for them, it’s just not the same as engaging with a friendly face. 

T-shirts are T-shirts at the end of the day, or so you might think, but once you have been privy to a man’s 20 minute deliberation about whether the large or extra large tee “hangs” better from his neck, you realise that:

a)      It’s a myth that women are a nightmare to shop with and;

b)      Buying a standard fit T-shirt is obviously a more exact science than either of us ever realised!

So whilst receiving an online clothing order still offers the usual thrill of having been chosen, it’s now also filled with the trepidation of sending it out there and wondering if the neck will be ok! 

Touch wood, we’ve never had any issues with clothing sold online and love it when people take time out to photograph their purchases and tag us in them.  It makes it worthwhile.  Here are a few recent ones.

Photo courtesy of official_jr_skating

Thank god for Instagram and Facebook!  Those who choose to interact with us on social media may not realise it, but they are like co-workers – our own little cyber office.  By day, we’re beavering away in our dungeon, at Voodoo Towers and this contact with the outside world gives us a buzz.  (There’s only so long you can spend chatting to the postman without coming off as creepy J)

Lee Foulkes in his Voodoo Street Urban Army Cap

At this point, we’ve sold one of our stickers to nearly every corner of the globe at some point and have encountered some pretty “out there” surnames.  However, on Friday night a particularly familiar name popped up on an order of stickers.  After a little Internet research, we discovered that it was indeed the son of a certain Cypriot born member of BBC’s Dragon’s Den.  Not necessarily worthy of champagne popping, but definitely a talking point.  Another swiftly followed this order, from one Martin Kemp, although we’re doubtful that it was Spandau Ballet’s bassist.

Photo Courtesy of Steve and Cat Bath

Vespa Love

So, back to our free weekend.  What did we do?  Well, after a week of stock taking, updating our online store, washing rain battered odds and sods and reconciling a mountain of receipts, we were kept busy with family birthday celebrations on Friday. Saturday’s torrential rain and consequent flooding also made us grateful that we weren’t standing in the middle of a field somewhere, although the enforced time indoors did result in the beginnings of a new little project for Voodoo Street.  We also spent a little time on a design that we periodically tinker with.  (Hopefully we’ll be able to share these new bits and pieces with you very soon). We rounded off Saturday with a curry and beers with friends.

Can you buy grey jelly?

In other news, our favourite time of year - Halloween - is fast approaching and already, ghoulish Chinese tat is creeping into our house.  So far, we have some tea light holders, a jelly mould in the shape of a brain and 2 pumpkins.  There will be more.  This year we seriously need to up our game on the pumpkin front.  Both of last year’s gourds were hurriedly carved on Halloween and in all honesty would probably have looked better if we had taken a machete to them blindfolded!

Incidentally, in an update to my last blog, we discovered this sign nailed to a tree in the woods.  Our familiar outlook of tall woodland pines at the end of our garden (a view we fell in love with when we first looked at the house, which looks like a location from a Stephen King novel) is clearly not going to be around for much longer.  It looks as though their days are numbered.  Very sad.

Today marks the fourth sunny day in a row, which makes it hard to focus when I have a day of admin ahead of me.  Warm as it is by day, the temperatures seem to be plummeting at night in these parts and as we all know, the drop in evening autumn temperature marks the arrival of my nemesis – the spider.  I can handle zombies, ghosts and anything else Halloween throws at me, but I find these creatures truly terrifying.  I’m not a fan of insects in general; anything bigger than an aphid increases my heart rate and not in a good way.  We have had some roasters in our house: unnaturally hairy, too many legs, muscles ffs!  Gaz has to carry out a night time “sweep” before I go upstairs.  Maybe I should consider hypnosis.

An accurate artist's impression of a typical spider found in our house with frightening regularity

Anyway, onwards and upwards!  Til next time!