Wet again

We thought last spring was wet, but there hasn't been a year for wet Saturdays like this one in my memory. I'm getting so resigned to selling in the rain that it doesn't even seem so hard anymore, and I'm even trying to commit to Tuesday whether or not it is wet.

Someone is not appeasing the weather goddesses correctly, although OCF weather was perfect, not too hot, not wet at all until Tuesday when everything that needed to be inside was, and the dusty things still outside were nicely cleaned. Maybe it was that water ritual they did, very lovely and appropriate for a year when water played such a big part in our lives.

Today I have to clean a layer deeper, all of those odd items that got shoved aside and still scatter my house and yard. Have to put the project room back together and get back to doing scarves and Jell-O.

Scarves and Jell-O, my plan for the future, slowly manifesting. I priced the Jell-O high on Wed and Thursday and didn't sell any until Sunday afternoon when I sold the orchid I was wearing to a young man at Valentine's in the meadow, but I shared it with plenty of people. The peach flags sold, the Elders flags sold, and people like the violets design. I didn't display most of the scarves, but with my diminished inventory the goal is to find a place at HM for them. They would probably sell better online than in the open air, so I will recommit to making that happen. I got a lot of positive feedback on those products even though it is obvious that most people don't have a lot of money to spend on frivolous purchases. I'm looking forward to working more in both types of media.

I have a bit of printing lined up, easy stuff that I can make myself do. It occurred to me that I could actually only sell hats and not change my Market sales that much. Something to think about. I need new hat racks.

And the gardening I have to do...garlic still in the ground here and there, and potatoes that need harvesting, and tomatoes that still need staking. Big old weeds. Still haven't pruned the lilacs, but that is how my summer goes.

The Fair demands a high degree of focus, and not until the days after do I see the contrast of that intense month or two with my normal mode. I seem to do better every year with the staying on track, the keeping irrationality under control, the over-production I feel compelled to do (this year it was hats, so many hats). Sales were down for me this year but I think part of that was that I sold off a lot of seconds, a couple of boxes of hats I'd been saving for years, and several boxes of shirts.

Part of being this age is that everyone talks about getting rid of things, and trying not to accumulate more, and I am reducing my surplus and thinning down my offerings. It doesn't seem to work for me to slightly reduce the price on items, like the tank tops I put on sale yesterday. People still choose the cream, the best, newest items in the sale, and would no doubt have paid the full price. It works better for me to have the big baskets of seconds at the Fair, stuff I have no attachment to and am happy to see walk away for $5 apiece. Shoppers are delighted and patiently sort through the piles, and if I see something not sell out of there after a few years I make a rag out of it and it is gone. I also bring sale stuff on Tuesdays, trying for one type of shirts each week, kids or tanks or men's or women's, though the weather and busyness have kept me from Tuesday for the last month. That way I have consistent offerings on Saturdays and feel good about bringing my finest work and making Saturday shiny.

One thing I noticed and loved about the Fair this year is that it feels so solidly the alternative culture, like the Market, and I feel so at home and with my people. Much of what I value in my life is reinforced by the orientation of love, open honest interaction, and gratitude for all the bounty and astonishment our world provides us with every moment when we are aligned and paying attention. We can all win if we all decide to work together in that way.

People criticize the Fair and the Market occasionally, but they have lasted and shown their solid foundations and have weathered many challenges. This says so in color, that it is a family reunion and a fun one. People feel safe to be their most creative. This is more valuable to me than I can say. We're very lucky, and I, for one, am holding on tight to this and making it count as I attempt to plan for the coming years.

I tend not to criticize now but analyze why decisions are made the way they are, what the thinking of the decision-makers might be. A recent letter put out by the farmers used such transparent hyperbole and tried hard to paint me, SM, and the alternative community as evil schemers out to persecute them that I just had to laugh and shake my head. What would be the purpose of such disinformation? To silence, discredit, and marginalize us for the writer's benefit...good luck with that tactic. Rather than respond to silly distractions like that, we just keep doing what we are doing, keep doing it well and looking for improvement. Pretty sure the sky is not falling, though what is falling from it has been more than enough of itself.

I'm pretty happy with the way decisions are made in my two primary organizations. There are many thoughtful people involved, they are committed to seeing all sides, they are good listeners, they see what works and come from varied enough backgrounds that they bring lots of good ideas forward for consideration. They understand how close we all are the the edge of getting our basic needs fulfilled, how hard it is to plan big when on that edge, and how feeling safe to be ourselves and do our work needs to be protected. I feel connected.

And I feel appreciated and inspired. While it can be exhausting, I really can not complain about how it feels to spread out my goods and have dozens, maybe hundreds of people come and delight in them. Some are so intrigued or satisfied they come back, bring friends and family, and hand me twenties as if it were easy, and not a profound, sacred transaction where they are helping to put actual food into my hungry mouth, keeping me literally and creatively alive and well.

I do not take this lightly. I am so much more grateful for this than I can articulate. I love the rituals where they hand me the chosen item, I hand it back, they hand me the cash, I hand back the change, they hand me the item, I put it in a bag, I hand it back...all the while we smile and make jokes for each other and tell little stories and recall past shared experience. Even though this happens over and over and I sometimes fail to recognize or even look closely at the person, I really do treasure this level of connection that is so available to me. I sincerely appreciate each purchase, well aware that without this customer, without this day at the Market, and without this culmination of the process that begins in my visual brain and ends somewhere in the future, I would have a very different life.

I like this one. I'll garden in the rain today and have the unstructured day I crave and need. Tomorrow I'll go to the bank and sort through some more boxes and get ready for Tuesday and into the summer, post-Fair routine of working on the house and yard, and marveling at the sound of the distant cottonwood tree and the tininess of the new chickadees, settling into my favorite time of year, the hot long days. How fun it was to discover that my new sidewalk is perfect for hosing off the rugs I use at the Fair, making that task so much easier.

I haven't been blogging because what I have to say is so mundane, so sappy and fruity and flowery. Thanks, all who made me a good Fair, and all who make me a great Market every single week. I'm with you, each doing our part to keep each other alive and producing. We're us.