"It wouldn't buy a jacket for a gooseberry" was one of my mother's phrases when observing a pittance of cash offered for some bauble or other.
Well, that was me last night.
I got paid to perform. And the lovely audience there bought some of my greeting cards featuring my photos and my poetry.
And all the big bucks were added up and there wasn't a jacket to be had for the poor gooseberries.
But was I thrilled to pieces?
Unbelievably.
So I stroked the wee cheque. And counted the cash and put it into an envelope and tucked it away.
And I tell you: There's nothing better than getting paid for something you'd do for nothing you love it so much.
