Memorabilia and Autumnal Associations

The battle is over, but as the dust settles and the world continues to move onwards, we are not done with this. We survived our first event, scarred, happy and a little worse for wear, but the tale does not end there. I’m not even confident that we finished the first chapter.

I think people will follow a tale for all sorts of different reasons, but primarily for the narrative. With blogs I hope it is the same, after all, many of you lovely Wockusiasts have been with us from the start, and that probably isn’t due to our roaring success or celebrity appeal. I would therefore like to suggest that we have just finished the introduction, and that before us lies the uncertain future of our protagonist, Curiosity Catering Ltd, better known as The Jabberwocky, beginning with Chapter One; Memorabilia and Autumnal Associations.

I’ve not made a secret of the fact that we have not progressed as fast as we ideally would have liked. We don’t have any more events on the near horizon, and the season for catering vans is pretty much over. As the Beast attempts to enter hibernation for the winter, we have tried other ideas in an attempt to keep him busy. One that received much interest at the festival was the prospect of selling Barny off for the evening, so that he could make someone else’s kitchen a mess instead of ours, on the proviso that he cleaned up after himself. We dubbed this activity “chef for hire”, then almost immediately regretted it in favour of the more far snappy “rent-a-chef”. At any rate, it’s something Barny would be able to do very well, him being scruffy to the point of distraction in everyday life, but professional and presentable when geared up for cheffing and able to whip up something fairly close to perfection in approx. one trice.

It’s those first few clients that will be tricky. I expect every business is the same in that respect: word of mouth is what will carry you through the dark times. Once people know you exist and like what you do, which naturally they will, they will begin by telling everyone they have ever met, then possibly the national media, and then probably the Overlord of Social Communication, Stephen Fry, whose powers doth crasheth a site at the merest mention. But I may be getting ahead of myself there.

My point is that as Summer skips into the past the Jabberwocky needs to be earning its keep. More and more, I am realising that its keep is very much about who you know, regardless of how good your internet didgeridoos may be. I would also like to confess that I very nearly wrote irregardless there, and I can only apologize for that near disgrace.

Irregardless, there is still much to be done, like finally printing our Memorandum and Articles of Association, hitherto only electronic, now gloriously enshrined in laminated covers and binding rings; thanks to an office equipment windfall we had recently received from my mum. Maybe it’s just me, but I love office accessories. Those mythical, hyper-useful gadgets that you will only ever use once. Well I have now used them, and it felt good to finally have a hard copy of that which enables me to use the title “Director” at my discretion. Even the hundreds of hole-punch sprinkles that now decorate the bedroom carpet and the lingering smell of burnt plastic cannot take that away from me. Probably should hoover.
Pics first, then I’ll get the Dyson out.

About Jabberwocky Soliloquy

The Jabberwocky drifts through space, collecting the most tasty things to eat. It brings them home and cooks them, humming about deliberate omissions and fortifying colours. As with all things it is, or should be, just happy to be here.
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