I finally have something for Crafty Tuesday!!
Remember that I had been dobbed in to help
organise the social events for the NS14 Nationals this year? Well, after the success of engaging Mumford's band I had the frustrating task of convincing the Committee (mostly men) that the laminex tables in the yacht club were not sufficiently flash for a National event, and that the 4 or 5 faded yellow seersucker tablecloths retained by the club for, oh, I don't know...polishing windows????? were not going to cut it for our party of 127. They eventually capitulated and allowed me the extraordinary sum of $115.00 to hire 15 white table cloths.
I had already decided on a a nautical/seaside theme in keeping with the 'on the beach' nature of our club and its relaxed, casual, 'yachtie' atmosphere. A bit of quick web surfing for ideas and it was off to the Cheap Shop/Cheap as Chips/Reject Shop/Two Dollar Bargain Shop, to see what we could rustle up. This is what we managed!!
Trying to keep the budget down, I avoided the expensive, helium filled balloon bouquets favoured by many event organisers. Instead, I found these little enamel pails, filled them with sand from just outside the door and went from there. We inflated the balloons ourselves and tied them onto BBQ skewers (available for a song at your local supermarket). I found bundles of faux grasses which could be split to furnish up to four tables and some contrasting spiral topped cane at $5.00 a box. The wicker balls, resembling a kind of marine tumbleweed, were $6.00 a bag and I sent my sister and the kids out to collect the seashells for nothing.
Add a scattering of napkins/serviettes in NS14 association colours and by the time the guests arrived the place was looking tophole and festive if I say so myself.
The committee were suitably impressed and will perhaps, in future, rethink their casual attitude to these events ( if the comments of the interstate guests are anything to go by).
Do you know what this is?
Well, it is a seating plan and it took the association president and I about an hour to complete. The idea was to put a South Australian boat on each table (as we were the hosts) and to ensure that all parties' numbers were considered in order that no-one be split up. To fill the tables of ten we juggled the variously sized 'parties', ensuring sponsors and club officials were placed on the appropriate tables, and judiciously placed very spiffy placecards, with boat or family names printed on them, around the room. I crossed each boat or family off a master list as we placed them and added up the number of people assigned to each table.
It was a gruelling but ultimately satisfying task as we managed to seat everyone.
Now, do you know what all that turned out to be? A...
Obviously within minutes of arriving, subtle relationship dynamics, of which we were unaware, dictated the immediate swapping of placecards with scant regard for the number of people being disadvantaged by the moves. I, of course, having left the venue at 4.45pm and barely having time to go through 5 of my 6 thousand outfits, did not arrive back until 6.15pm. Himself, who had been operating independently in the picking up of his boys etc, was already there and deep in conversation at the bar.
"Where are we sitting?" he queried.
"Just here," I indicated, noting a slightly larger number of persons on the table than I recalled 'assigning'.
"Our boat name's not there, I can't find it on any of the tables," he scowled (have I mentioned the disappointment with the mainsail?)
I cannot do justice here to what happened next.
I seated myself at the table which I knew I had assigned to our party of 6. Our placecard had mysteriously vanished, and I
mean vanished because Himself spent sometime combing the room to see which table had been the happy recipient of its presence. The other table members began to move off for the buffet meal.
"Quick," I hissed, "come and sit down!!!"
"There isn't going to be enough seats," Himself (logically) insisted.
"I don't care," I snarled through venomous fangs, "This is OUR table, I F***ing organised it!!!!"
You can hear where this is going can't you?
Himself (a sponsor, committee member and tireless worker for the event) myself and my sister, sat at a laminex table with no decoration or table cloth at the very back of the room as we ate our meals because three seats at our table had been taken by interlopers.
I was livid. As far as I could determine, we were the
only large party who had been split up. I hope you appreciate the irony of this. I did NOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
However, after some time, the presentations started and we moved Himself to the top table where there was a space so that he could make his sponsor awards. I actually stood at the bar with my sister to make it easier for everybody (and to dull my spitting rage with a few quickly quaffed rum and cokes) so the evening continued on in a more satisfactory fashion after that.
Mumford and his gang put on a terrific show which added to the ambiance nicely. They played their hearts out to an empty room though as all the yachties proceeded immediately out onto the balcony to dissect the events of the week. Nevertheless, there was a solid core of kid supporters (including the Small Boy) who sat stoically in front of the band clapping and dancing at every turn. Towards the end of the evening many people came up to me and thanked us for the wonderful event
and commented on the band, whom they had enjoyed from the distance of the balcony all night!
At one point during the evening, I noticed a crowd leaning over the balcony laughing and clapping. No 2 son beckoned us over.
"Mumford is abusing an animal," he laconically informed us.
Mumford it seemed, was on the beach below performing a routine with his Jack Russell accomplice, Q. This involved a bullfighting scenario, some juggling and clever little Q sitting for several minutes in a pose resembling a meerkat. Later the Small Boy came to me in lathers of excitement telling me about Mumford's ribbon which when blown upon turned into a steel pole!!!!
So all in all it was a pretty good evening and although I am not suggesting I should do this sort of thing for a living, it
was a lot of fun....... right up until the bit where they
took our seats (spoken through clenched, venemous fangs)!!!!!!! I guess I need to work on that bit :-)
For more clever craft ideas, check out Carrie at '
Barely Controlled Chaos' although I have just noticed she has rescheduled until next week!!!!!! Curses. Just my luck :-)
Small Boy Jnr (they have the same name!!!) was captivated by the kangaroos.
This little chap is called a potoroo.
And here we have the gang patting a koala. What? What? You can't see the koala?
It's right there on the right! So? I didn't think it was important enough to get into the shot.
Here's one from at home. I was helping Small Boy Jnr to send an email to his dad. At 6 he is a remarkably good writer/speller so I was just encouraging him to use both hands on the keyboard. There's my new flatscreen monitor (Christmas present from Dad!) and my new 400GB+ external hard drive, to hold all my photos, in the backround up against the wall (thanks again Dad!!). The rest of the mess I have NO excuse for, except maybe that it's holidays.
Our next outing was to Noarlunga beach with my favourite ex-pat Yank, A Free Man, and Boy Z.
Which he puts to good use.
Small Boy Jnr is impressed.
Meanwhile, The Small Boy introduced Ginger to boogie boarding. I don't know, I think she enjoyed it. What do you think?
I couldn't resist this final shot, even though it isn't really for my brother-in-law. This is the Small Boy about to take a huge tumble; what we call being unceremoniously dumped!
If you can click on this to enlarge it, check out his face!!
