Need batteries

I'm exhausted. I worked way too hard this week trying to scrape together the property tax funds. It's not a huge amount, for which I am lucky, but this is one of the two times of year that things get stretched too tightly, working up stock for the HM like I do in spring for the OCF. All the money goes into potential, not leaving quite enough for actual.

My customers seem to be in the same place. My sales were somewhat adequate yesterday and the rain held off for the most part, so there was the occasional wallet displayed on the Park Blocks yesterday. Still, things were slightly grim. Except for the bright spots!

It's hard not to love Hallowe'en. I'd post pictures of my great chicken costume, if I had any AA batteries for my camera, but I'm out. No one got pictures of the spontaneous concert that happened in my booth, alas.

Rich Glauber stopped by before his flash mini-mob gig with the Slug Queen. He has performed with all types of royalty, including those who are just beginning their illustrious careers, and he is terrifically good at making other people sound great. I returned to my booth after some foray or other and he was singing "You say tomato, and I say tomahto..."

Maybe it was the costume (I was "madder than a wet hen") or maybe it was just a lucky moment, but I sang along and we did five or six songs together. Inside my booth, while a couple tried to shop and eventually found what they wanted. All the vendors around me were laughing and enjoying the show, the musician and the chicken trading smiles. I've known Rich a long time but it was the first time we actually sang together, just the two of us. It was a delight and a treasure.

I've always said I am not one of the "performing Angels" and have craved but passed up opportunities to perform with my many musician friends and acquaintances, at least formal opportunities. I'm one of those people who can't pass up a chance to sing and will join in quietly with street performances, and of course will sing along with the radio at all times of day and night. But it's rare indeed that I perform in public and yesterday was over all too soon.

I've always thought I had stage fright, one of those self-limiting beliefs it is good to shed. Who knows what I could do with a little rehearsal. I certainly don't worry too much about looking dorky any more.

I'm getting more "out" and outspoken about a number of subjects. It seems to be worth it.

Guess I'll motivate to get some mosskiller on my roof. It doesn't seem to be raining today, though it did most of the night. I suppose I could carve a pumpkin, too, or I might be eating all those mini-Snickers bars myself.

I'll edit later if I can come up with the batteries or someone else posts pics of me (have that one, but it doesn't show my tail, which was really the best part). For a chicken I was pretty bold. One very old very small woman asked if she could ask me "an impertinent question": "Are you always like this, or just on Hallowe'en?"

Just on Hallowe'en, I said. Like what, I wondered.

Lucky once again

It did rain, but not until around 5:00, which sent everyone scurrying out of the Market as fast as they could go. I can only go so fast, but everything was dry when I packed my tubs and it didn't rain really hard until I got home.



So I unloaded in a downpour, and got soaked, but none of my wares got wet, so all is well. And it has rained all night and all today, complete with losing the electricity and everything. So nice to get to be indoors.

Market was great, I got Willy's spot and sold a ton of hats. Here's a picture of my booth set-up, and two of the chain maille I mentioned in the previous entry. Lew was one of the people operating without a cover yesterday, and he was lucky. Too bad I took such blurry photos. Must have been the humidity.












I also took a picture of the world's best cape, a possession of great envy in my little neighborhood. She wears it every week as far as I can tell, and is not the only person who gets dressed up for the Market. I love seeing the little kids dressed as fairies and superheros, and remember fondly when I would have easily done that were I not a child in the fifties in a conservative place where we only got a certain kind of dress-ups, with high heels and Mom's old clothes, playing the limited roles open to women at that time. Going out in public dressed in wings and capes was just not done. So glad times have changed!

Tuesday Treasures

Apparently I look slightly bedraggled at the Tuesday Market...but the hay fork is the purpose of this picture. I finally got to put an old Country Fair face and name together and found this glorious handmade oak item in Virgil and Nancy's booth. Eventually I may use it in the compost pile but for now it is in my living room.

As you can see, the tines are split from the single branch, and he has no need for power tools to make this living artifact from less complicated times. All tools used to be made locally and by skilled (or adequately skilled) craftspeople or farmers or whomever needed the tool. It has a life because Virgil's hands were on it from start to finish. He harvested the wood from a place I am familiar with so it carries that history too. I get all misty just thinking about its value, which is far beyond the very reasonable price I paid for it. He even numbers them, and writes your name in his book because you are participating in the process.

It was one of those things I saw and was compelled to participate in. Sometimes at Market something or someone will appear and it is entirely possible that it will not return for a second chance. I think Virgil's tools will return, so look for him in the 4x4's on Saturdays, and maybe next Tuesday, WHICH IS THE LAST TUESDAY MARKET of the season.

I wish I had taken more pictures this week, as it was a perfect fall day with drifting leaves, sun, albeit weak at times, fog rolling in from the river, and all the produce that is still left in our valley.

Tuesday is a Farmers Market, run by LCFM, so it feels different from Saturdays. Farmers are allowed to pay for more than one space, and often spread out into three, so when we have space we crafters (I hear the preferred word is now merchants...not sure about that) spread out too. The bowl in the background of the squash collection is from John King, who set up on the other leg of my corner, and spread across three empty spaces, which increased the traffic flow nicely and brought me some sales, I'm sure. I missed my regular neighbors, but every week is different, and I was happy to feel successful.

I started displaying my kids shirts in baskets turned on their sides, and at some point it dawned on me that I got that idea from the farmers. Their baskets get emptied and mine do not, but as a fair-weather display I like it very much. It's easy to pack, in that you don't have to take them out and put them in a box, but of course baskets are odd shapes and sizes and don't pack on the cart well. Still, I've become a basket collector. My Saturday neighbors, Sheila and Patricia, make the most fabulous baskets you have seen in your life. They always have a different selection and they are very hard to resist.

Beth came by and admired my hay fork, and quoted her mom's observation that we just make things and sell them to each other, which is kind of how it does work. I trade with a lot of the farmers, but mostly I like to pay cash to the craftspeople when I want their products, and I don't accept vendor discounts. It's an honor to me to own someone else's pride and joy, and I know well the excitement that comes with making and displaying a new product or concept.

Virgil brought five forks and took most of them home, but we're there for many other reasons besides making money. He'll sell them all, over time, and make more, and with that encouragement, he'll branch out into other fine tools. He had some amazing knapped stone and glass knives in his booth too. He may be old, but he isn't finished. That's one of the wonderful things about our market. We provide opportunity, and it's pretty easy. A booth space on Tuesday only costs us $5 and 10%. If no one treasures your offerings that day, $5. My excellent neighbor, Lew, who bikes almost 6 miles with his chain maille, is rumored to have a zero day once in awhile, but he keeps coming for the good conversation and the opportunity. I'm so sorry I didn't take a picture of his chains, every link made and put together in traditional, ancient fashion, and his great bead snakes. You can find him in the 4x4's too.

Of course I spend more than I make most days, at the Patisserie and Serendipity hot dog cart and the various farmers. It's not an easy market to make sales at, mostly because there are not enough customers. People may not realize how convenient and pleasurable it is, to make a stop at the Tuesday Market part of your day.

But next week is the last one and rain is predicted, so I'm not promising to be there. I may just drop in and get my caneles and lemon tart and golden peppers and a few more kinds of squash. Also dried blueberries, beets, the world's best lettuce and carrots (Horton Road) and shrimp seviche from Berg's. You might have to come on Saturday to get my hats, and the sale items I take to Tuesday might not be available until next May. You just never know.

You have to be in the moment if you want the good stuff.

Every Day is Different

We had fun yesterday, in the October sun, a lucky day for the Market and for me as well. It was the Market-wide Sale, and I took the kids shirts I am trying to close out, and displayed them in a new way, in baskets turned on their sides on the top shelf. I didn't sell that many but felt satisfied anyway.

Fortunately I had taken my good stuff as well and was happy to know hoodies will still sell. I have a lot of inventory built up for Holiday Market and I need to turn it into cash to pay those bills, which will come due well before HM starts. It's always a tight dance this time of year and I am determined not to borrow money.

Today I turned on the heat and spent some time working on a short story instead of reading the paper. Writing is really fun for me, but it's always hard to sit down and start. One of my tricks is to leave something in progress, at a point where I still have ideas for it. I jot them down and take a break from it, which often turns into a few days or more, and then I am itching to get back and go at it. I'm in a similar place with a nonfiction article I am working on about the Market, sustainability and bikes. I'm excited about it and just might spend the day writing, even though the sun is out. I did laundry, that's good enough. I'll sweep the floors.

I had to repair my cart yesterday. You can see here that the tongue twisted way to the side, because I got caught up on a part of the sidewalk that I try to avoid. Nice to know such a thing can happen (Elise had told me a similar story, but now I get it) and so glad I had my little tools with me. It just required the right Allen wrench. Yay for me for carefully buying a serious bike tool set last winter.

I also caught up today on recording my sales for both Sat. and Tues. and checking the average. We only have a four more outdoor Saturdays and two more Tuesdays. Both of my averages are almost exactly the same as last year, which is good news for me. Not losing ground, not suffering in the economy, just keeping on keeping on.

A bunch of emotional stuff happened yesterday, which is kind of normal for being in public. I made a vow to not get involved in any long conversations that kept me from my booth, so I stayed in it, but the conversations came over to me. It was better, though still interfered a bit with sales. The conversations reminded me that I am just as irrational as the next person, while also being just as self-aware, just as practical, just as deluded, just as concerned, just as passionate. In short, ordinary as can be. Just as full of flaws and self-doubt as anyone, struggling for control and progress and finding common ground and the common good.

Life. If I could change anything about my past, it would be to work harder to get my fears out of my way. Fear of failure, fear of success. Fear of disappointment, fear of the "narcissistic souffle" of self-aggrandizement. Fears of laziness, fears of work addiction. I would relax more into "It is what it is."

But of course it is never too late to work on important things and sometimes progress is being made even though we don't think so. The conversations I had yesterday opened up a couple of blocks in a small area of my life and things just might flow better now. If it results in my taking myself less seriously, that's great. I want to laugh more like I did after taking this picture:

Hallowe'en's coming, and it's on a Sunday, so costumes at Market will be rich. Even more so than on the regular days.

And in political news, I heard the results of the OCF election already, thanks to Facebook. It seems that all the incumbents were re-elected, which I won't comment about, but if you want to project that to the current state or national scene, it might represent a good trend. No tea party at the OCF, thank goodness.

Those Rainy Days

I am finding some small consolation in that today is even rainier than yesterday, and windier, and way more miserable, so although those who are trying to hold outside activities today are unhappy, I have the pleasure of listening to the drops on the skylight without distress. I paid my dues yesterday.

You can see that I was quite wet in the morning, but once the tarp was up I did just fine, and the rain was light and infrequent yesterday, as it turned out. I waterproofed my boots on Friday, so when I stepped in the fountain accidentally they didn't even leak. I still screeched. The back corner of my booth actually needs to rest inside the fountain, a point on which I was in denial, but it worked okay to extend out the front a little this time, until I figure out a better solution. I will probably bring a concrete block to rest it on, or get a popup, something I have been resisting.

My back ached yesterday, either from standing up too much trying to keep from being bored in my chair (I thought about putting it out in one of the empty spaces) or from the additional lifting of all the booth parts and putting up the tarp. I have the old-fashioned wooden booth still, hanging onto the reasoning that I can lift only one piece at a time, which is still easier than lifting the 40 pounds or so of a pop-up with wet top. It's probably six of one or a half-dozen of another.

The fact is that lifting is a problem for the market vendor. I've worked hard to package all of my wares in 30-pound or less tubs or bags. To balance the greater weight of the booth, and the need to get everything under cover, I left a third of my stuff home. Loading and unloading the trailer is manageable. I might just need to exercise or sit more on the days with more stress, or take ibu like I did, and tough it out. I'm fine today, just the usual Sunday evidence of the wear and tear of aging. It's a hard day, the twelve hours of hurry hurry wait wait.

The rainy days are harder still, but there are some good reasons to be there. Sometimes sales are just as good, and that was true for some yesterday, though mine were abysmal (partly because if I go over to the farmers market, I always get into a long conversation with someone or other). There are fewer things to buy, so a greater chance one of them will be yours. The neighbors are different, new people get a chance to sell, and there is more time for leisurely conversations with customers and friends. Many loyal customers come down in every kind of weather, and so do tourists, because we are a very famous event. I had several appreciative potential customers whose feedback was quite as valuable as money. We do not go down there for dollars alone.

I started writing a little thing on my envelope I called "Elders' Gems" in which I plan to share some of the wisdom I've collected over my long years at Market. The staff will decide whether or not to share it in the newsletter like the cartoons, and I invite others to share their tips also. This is in response to a letter from esteemed market goddess Ayala who suggested that it is time for the Market to work on some kind of elders program. The OCF has been quite successful working out the details of some way to be real about the aging of the population. Since so many of our community do care deeply about our participatory organizations, it makes sense to think and work to accommodate the aging and use our resources to stay open to all ages. It's not about handing things over to the young people and getting out of the way, it's about including everyone the way we claim to. Everyone includes the weaker ones, the ones on the edges, and the ones who started the dang things and still want to play a part.

It's a tricky thing, because inclusiveness means everybody, which involves guiding some to be more cooperative, some to be less selfish, some to be more honest, some to avoid obstructing the rights of others. There are many people now who live in the several blocks where the Market sets up, and our staff has to clean up a lot of trash and noxious substances because some of these people do not seem to be motivated to be courteous of their neighbors, or those of us who rent their homes twice a week. Lots of them are desperately alienated, due to the more extreme national selfishness trend. When I pass by with my fully loaded trailer I get some catcalls and I want to suggest that some of them might try working as hard as I do to keep things together. But some of them have far more hardship than I to overcome, so I also feel lucky to have found ways to allow myself to work.

For the most part our community is very tolerant of the wayward. Lots of us are living on the edges, a few months away from sleeping in our own cars, if we have them. Our concern for the elders is part of the safety net we provide. I remember Carol Jacobs, selling her Burden Cloths into her eighties. Her obit said she was a mathematician with several degrees (it would be interesting to find out how many market vendors do have advanced degrees...95%?), and she found a way to be productive and bring in some income, through the Market.

At present we offer some financial relief for those over 65 (no mandatory HM work task) and I remember Bob Walden being granted a free booth space back in the 80's, but space is so much tighter now that is not going to be a possibility. Still, we need to start talking about it, because that is how we will come up with the ideas that will work. There's plenty of vision available and weaving a wider and stronger safety net is something the market community and the larger community can and must do. Fortunately, this kind of thinking has been part of our bigger picture for many years. I feel a great deal of gratitude for all of the thoughtful staff and members who are willing and able to see other people and want to see needs filled.

The thoughtfulness is demonstrated in myriad ways and the haiku/limerick contest was one of the lighter ones. Creative people love to be asked to create. This year not only the winning haiku got a prize, six runners-up received a token of Market's esteem! You can read Kim's blog about it here. In addition to my prize-winning poem, I wrote another, as well as a group limerick with my neighbors that was a lot of fun. Here is my second one:

sun's path is lower,
the shade has all shifted up
last day coverless?

I hope that wasn't prophetic.

I also want to mention that any of my market member readers who aren't getting the newsletter should be aware of the wonderful grant opportunity offered by Lotte Streisinger, our founder. You can get the details from the office, but the most interesting thing I have discovered about it is that the process of imagining writing the application has been most illuminating for me. Even envisioning how to spend just the modest amount of money involved has spurred me to kick myself into gear regarding my many dreams. Most of them are eminently achievable, with or without the grant. I encourage every member to apply, if only for the exercise in admitting you deserve such a thing and can put it to good use. It got me writing more regularly and bothering to take action does have its rewards. I needed duct tape.


In other news, I got this unique artifact from a free pile this week. It is pretty impractical as an exercise device unless you have a really short frame like it does, but the exceptionally wide seat and the very cool speedometer have possibilities. I just liked the way it looked, so now it is here on my deck with that old high chair I picked up a few weeks ago. When my stuff is carted to the dump, it will be an interesting load.