All is full of love…

Sometimes we need to take time to remember “All Is Full Of Love”
You’ll be given love

You’ll be taken care of

You’ll be given love

You have to trust it
Maybe not from the sources

You have poured yours

Maybe not from the directions

You are staring at
Twist your head around

It’s all around you

All is full of love

All around you
All is full of love

You just ain’t receiving

All is full of love

Your phone is off the hook

All is full of love

Your doors are all shut

All is full of love!
All is full of love

All is full of love

All is full of love

All is full of love

All is full of love

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How to do a bootfair

I think bootfairs are uniquely British. They’re similar to flea markets but different. Everyone rocks up in their vehicles, puts out a rickety decorating table then flogs their unwanted stuff from their boot (trunk if you’re American).


So I wrote a little guide to bootfairs here:

  1. Clear out all your junk and think it looks like the best stuff ever. Mentally top up in your head the £200 you’re gonna make.
  2. Rope in someone unsuspecting friend, who has never done a bootfair so will be unjaded.
  3. Cram it all into your car with your decorating table and camping chairs. Get your float and price labels ready and feel smug at how organised you are.
  4. Get up at some ungodly hour on the most holy of lie in days, Sunday.
  5. Drive thanking the fact no one else mad enough to be up at this hour because a) you can’t see out any mirrors or windows and b) you can’t move the gear stick without everything falling and crushing your arm.
  6. Get there and feel much better that you’re not the only one insane enough to do this.
  7. Panic pull everything out the car and frantically set it up whilst the bootfair pros pull and poke your old belongings shouting ‘how much, how much’.
  8. Panic more because you left your float at home. Go through every pocket, purse and the  footwells of the car in search of change.
  9. Step back and survey your table and notice how your stuff now looks like the shittest stuff ever and realise you’re probably gonna make a fiver not £200.
  10. As people paw at your old stuff you feel slightly naked and like everyone is judging your life right now.
  11. Get really angry and defensive when someone haggles over your possession that is £6 and they want to pay £5 but you’re not budging. That waffle maker was £30 only 3 months ago (fuck you).
  12. Get bored and take a wander amongst the rows and rows of everyone else’s toot. Aisles of soup bowls and picture frames. Clothes wracks of plus sized sequins and every species of animal made of bone china.
  13. Spend your forgotten float at the burger van to break a twenty you had in your purse and sneakily get more change. Try to get something that costs nothing but that is so suspect it should come with a public warning. Its also probably safe to eat a ‘burger’ as a vegetarian because it’s never even seen a cow. 
  14. Return to someone haggling with your buddy over a 20p item. They want it for 15p and it’s 5 pence you difference you cheapskate.
  15. Have a little rush of sales and feel energised by the fact you’ve got up at 6am, broken your limbs hauling boxes and bags and sat for 5 hours in a field for £20. That’s £4 per hour pay and there’s two of you so it’s £2 per hour, illegal.
  16. Get all energetic and upsell everything to everyone and realise you’re the best market trader in the world. Make another tenner.
  17. Feel hard done by when they collect your £5 pitch fee
  18. Start to lose the will to live and stop chatting to people that come by, play on your phone feeling antisocial and refuse eye contact with everyone.
  19. Sink into dispear when you sell the waffle maker for £3 and realise you’re the mug 
  20. Start to panic that you’ll have to take half the shit back home again. 😱
  21. Realise there’s still an hour left and pray for a reason to leave. So you buy another coffee and eat into your £25 profit
  22. Battle with yourself not to buy the kitch picture on the stall opposite because you think will make your house all edgy and arty. You’ll only put it in the next bootfair, not sell it, and be stuck with it for life anyway.
  23. Sell a last few things for 20p because the thought of moving it again makes you feel sick.
  24. Start giving people stuff for free and feel like you’re the nicest person alive.
  25. Get so tired that you can’t cook so get Sunday lunch at a pub with your earnings and feel smug that it was free and oh well you got rid of a quarter of your junk.  

I secretly love a good car boot, if for nothing else the people watching. I also love seeing people’s stuff from their lives. I find them utterly exhausting for minimal return. But I like the idea that things are being reused and recycled, I can’t bear stuff going to the tip. Plus a they’re a great exercise in minimalising and deluttering and being able to afford a lunch out whilst on benefits.

What’s your best boot fair story or bargain?

The Jigsaw

Last night I dreamt of a jigsaw puzzle. It was double sided and so large that it wouldn’t fit the table. I kept trying to find paper or card for it to rest on in sections so that they were preserved whilst I focused on another section. Then I found bigger table to move it to but it would fill this one too. It expanded faster than I could manage. 

Everytime I attempted it I couldn’t remember which side I was working on. Then I’d complete a large section and feel good and a sense of achievement. Like a taunt, I could almost glimpse the larger beast. But then I’d realise another section had fallen apart as I neglected it to focus on the current one.

All this was going on whilst others were in and out of the picture. Some people came to help and got sections complete with me. Others came and their insesent chatter and advice hindered the process. All this was trying to be achieved whilst pleasing these people and juggling the pieces. I had to serve dinner, casually chat to people. Even the task of doing something for myself got in the way. I didn’t have time for anything for me and felt isolated and alone. 

I couldn’t tell what the bigger picture was. As I completed small parts people’s faces would appear and sometimes the people around me would know the story behind who they were. This bit I loved and it kept me going.

I got to the point where the jigsaw was so frustrating that it was easier to give up and live in the moment. To ignore it in favour of activities that I could enjoy that made me feel hapoy. But then it became the huge unfinished project. The big box of broken pieces and failure hidden under the table, threatening to explode from its box as it grew.

This morning I googled jigsaws in dreams and found they symbolise the different aspects of our life coming together. That you should take a closer look to see if all the parts actually fit and come together in the right places. Do they all belong?

This couldn’t be more apt as this week I’ve shredded my life once again and asked so many questions. Do I live in the moment because it’s easier and there’s less disappointment? Do I plan for the future, because everytime I do chance and disaster dictate anyway. Am I a hedonist who is so fearful of failure and pain I miss the bigger picture? 

I’m not sure I’m doing any of this right, and it all feels out of  control. Apparently life is exciting like a puzzle, because we don’t know what it looks like in its entirety. I just feel a little lost and would like a peek at the box lid please? Otherwise how do I know if all the pieces belong and whether I like the picture at all? 

Narrow Margins

I can’t ever get this song out of my head. The words, oh the words, they say my all thoughts. The melody gets me in the pit everytime.

“Narrow Margins”
I can’t live this way

Breaking all my rules again

Choking on my gin

You push ’til I give in

‘Til the loser always wins
Somehow with his beckoning

Bruising with his threads

Confusing what he says

But I won’t live that way

Though I kind of want to anyway

Kind of want to play

With all the pretty and the pure

Well I return to the earth

I return to the dust

No more beauty by the pound

And this I do not trust
‘Cause nothing forgives

Rules and narrow margins

In our lives

It’s rules and narrow margins

But I will slip by
I can’t find the time

I don’t know the future

I couldn’t bring that past back

I waste what little time I have
But I swear I almost touched it

Yet it slipped between my fingers

Sent shivers down my spine

Cut a splinter in my mind
But it wasn’t nothing, again

These rules and narrow margins

But our life

Is rules and narrow margins

But I will slip by
Rules and narrow margins

Rules and narrow margins

But I will slip by
Half Moon Run