“These articles are from a trade journal, The Gift Guide, for which I was a regular contributor, for five years, almost as long as I had my gift shop, “Juliana’s” in Wahroonga, from 1985 to 1990/91.  It was a time of great turmoil and growth for me.   Gerald and I were separated during that time, he had moved to Melbourne with IBM, and I experienced life as a single mother.   I had very supportive parents living close by, who were wonderful grandparents to Joshua, picking him up from school, supervising his homework, and looking after him when he was sick, as my working hours were sometimes long.    

It’s been interesting to look back at the young woman I was then.   I’ve cringed and I’ve laughed, remembering what was going on in my life then.  I was in my late thirties (I turned forty a year or two before I sold the shop) – and just a few months later, I bought another business Dynamic Demo’s, a demonstration company, which I had for a few years.   In my second year, I asked Gerald’s sister, Verna Parker, to become a partner in the business. Our personalities and our skills complemented each other well, and we very well worked as a team, and became very close friends, something I remember with gratitude and happiness today.

 So much water under the bridge.

 Thank you Catherine and Andy Hutchinson for turning this writing, straight from the magazine, into Word Documents for me.   Bless you both.”

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A LADY nearly died in my shop a few weeks ago. She staggered in, grey and ill. I gave her a chair, a drink of water, and bathed her neck with a cold compress.

When she could speak, I got her doctor’s number, and a car arrived very soon. She had undergone major heart surgery a while ago, and had suffered a stroke in my shop.

Shock set in later when I pondered about what could have happened. Some years ago I did a Life Resuscitation Course with the Red Cross, and have determined to renew that knowledge.

We come into contact with so many people. Could we save a life if necessary?

RECENTLY, I decided on smart, expensive new carpeting for my shop. It was bedlam from dawn to dusk. The carpet-layer arrived two hours early at the shop, and phoned me at home at 8 a.m.

I was perspiring heavily from a long jog, the washing machine was into its second load, the breakfast dishes were spread around, the dog had sicked on the back door mat, and my son discovered his homework was incomplete.

Always one to rise to a challenge, I raced to the shop to appease the Miffed Man. Of course, as he was two hours early, none of the shelves were unpacked, nor was any stock removed ready for the carpet laying to begin.

He stood around smoking Marlboros whilst I pumped iron removing and unpacking. Occasionally he sighed loudly (pondering the insanity of women no doubt Who Are Always Late), and when he finally ventured "Geez, I thought youse would have done this by now” it took every ounce of self discipline I possess to refrain from clobbering him with a marble obelisk.

This was apart from suffering the indignities of comments from passers-by like “Are you having a garage sale?" and “Closing down are you?”

WHAT a joy it is to have sleek, good looking carpet on the floor. No more strategic placing of baskets to hide the tacky bits. No more suffering anxiety attacks watching old ladies threaten to catapault across the shop tripping over threadbare holes.

Instead, I watch horrified at the number of people who stroll unconcernedly through my shop slurping at drippy ice-creams.

One hugely pregnant lady was spotted wandering about, a baby on her hip, a shopping basket in one hand, carrying a strawberry milkshake, whilst the baby made fervent swipes at the straw.

I subdue my rising anger at such thoughtlessness, and sweetly suggest they may care to finish their snack outside, and then return. Unbelievable how many people are genuinely offended at my request, and stalk off muttering under their breath.

The Irish have a saying “He's got the Divil in him” for those of us inclined to bouts of wicked deeds. I swear sometimes I stifle the urge to rush across the shop, rugby tackle some offensive person to the ground, and deliver a karate chop to the jugular.

“That’ll teach YOU”, I’ll say smugly (and a trifle breathlessly no doubt). They will have Learned a Lesson. Ha! like the “A Team", I shall then continue my search for ways to bring justice to the land.

Good lines to have up your sleeve

"And WHAT is your name darling?” (This to be said to a baby swathed in pink and blue clothing, so’s you don’t blight your relationship with its mother by calling a boy a girl and vice versa). The adoring mother obliges immediately with offspring’s tag—it never fails I swear—which gets you out of a sticky situation. Unless its name is Chris. Or Ashley.

“Excuse me, I’ll just go and turn the kettle off” (when you’ve heard the details of her husband’s prostate operation for the third time). This ploy gives you a few minutes breathing space to regroup, and if you’re lucky, the phone rings before you get back.

And if the phone doesn’t ring, how about:

“I have to make a very important phone call to Milan/New York/London to see if Mrs Drysdale’s crystal/marble/baskets have been despatched." This is known as the Double Whammy, as it serves two purposes. (1) Rids you of talkative windbag, and (2) impresses customers with your sophisticated, conscientious sales techniques.

"This is the last one in the shop.”

“The prices all go up next month."

“These will be unavailable in Australia from next week/month/ year.” (Only to be used in emergencies, for obvious reasons.)

“Isn’t the weather beautiful?"

“Isn't the weather dreadful?” (Interchange cold, humid, damp, dry, windy, ad infinitum for variety. Ensure weather conditions coincide with comments.)

“Me? Oh, I’m TERRIFIC, very well indeed, thank you.” This comment is not optional, it is ESSENTIAL. Remember, your customers may have haemorrhoids, period pains, migraine, dying grandmothers, alcoholic neighbours, pregnant cats, overflowing sewage, unfaithful husbands, unpaid bills and delinquent children, but WE, my dear friends, are always healthy, cheerful, charming, helpful good listeners, with unlimited resources of gaiety and strength.

A NOTE of cynicism has crept, unbidden, into this column. A quick change of subject is required.

We have possibly missed the best retailing opportunity for 75 years. I did anyway. My son and I awoke at the deadly hour of 3.30 a.m. to view Halley’s Comet, and trailed with unbrushed teeth and unco-ordinated eyes to a nearby oval to witness this thrilling spectacle.

Feigning good cheer and bonhomie, I was shocked to discover about 40 other insomniacs out there in the blackness.

I will admit to feeling superior and stylish dressed in my baggy-kneed faded tracksuit which the cat likes to sleep on. Everyone else was wearing striped pyjamas, fluffy slippers and synthetic lambswool gowns.

Nobody knew much about what we were looking for, although a few show-off types had binoculars. One man had a scrunched-up cutting from the Herald, which we pored over, bonded together in friendship (insanity?) at 4 a.m.

I was disappointed that I had not had the foresight, the business acumen, to anticipate what a financial BOOM this could have been.

Why wasn’t I out there, selling hot coffee, photostat copies of Scorpio’s Tail and other unmentionables? Hiring out binoculars? Ugh boots?

Why weren’t YOU out there selling coffee, photostat copies and Ugh boots? Where is our ambition, our drive, for Halley’s sake?

I mean, next time it appears, we’re going to be a bit long in the tooth for night time trysts, aren’t we?"

SANTA CLAUS has been endowed with many sterling qualities over the years I have known him. Unfailingly jolly (perhaps a former retailer?), the friend of little children, lover of mince pies and reindeer, he toils away tirelessly all year long producing gifts and then mushes said reindeer to the ends of the earth on Christmas Eve delivering presents. (I wonder what star sign he is?)

Now, I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but I think there is something you should know; something that has been eating away at me for months and which I have to get off my chest.

Santa is sneaky.

I realise this unforgivable breach of conduct may well offend many less enlightened folk out there, but it is time Santa was removed from his pedestal. Santa has been sneaking up on us since the first trade fair of the year.

Yes, YES, he HAS! I SAW HIM, lurking in dark corners on certain stands. Tucked away just a smidgin (only hardened Santa Searchers like myself were likely to spot him). Accompanied by fairies and bells and robins, and even a 1987 calendar, heaven forbid!

This furtive act did not fool ME for a moment, but just the same I haven’t been able to get him out of my mind. I think it’s only fair to warn you that he is ready to explode upon the scene like a nude lady out of a giant iced cake. You don’t have to start humming “White Christmas” or anything, but you know, just kind of ready yourself. ..

We shall have to meet him, Face to Face, any day now, and begin the whole mad, bad, exciting, frustrating experience of stocking up for Christmas all over again.

Take heed.

OVERHEARD; A lady lamenting that just occasionally she would like a “normal, hassle free day”. Her companion replied “That would be ABnormal. ‘Normal’ is hassles and drama.” It’s true!

We really do have to retain a SSSHHHweppervescent bubble of humour. Without it, we may feel like giving up and joining the Great Shopping Complex in the sky.

SPEAKING of shopping complexes. ANYONE FOR GOSSIP?????

This one is from an infallible source. You might say, straight from the horse's mouth.

Graeme Eggins is going to open a shop.

Yes, I KNOW it sounds absolutely ridiculous, impossible, unlikely, and hilarious—ha, ha, ha . .. can you just SEE him ...??!

But traders, beware. He has all the inside information you know. Suppliers. Importers. Customers. Advertising. Backing. Reputation. And unfailing good humour.

The point is, can Graeme survive seven simultaneous deliveries? Will Graeme steal our favourite customers? Can Graeme be the smash-hit-success in retailing he was in GIFTGUIDE?

Watch this column for INSIDE INFORMATION, and remember, you heard it first from Emily.

Good luck to you dear Graeme, special man, in whatever you do.