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Salem, day 3
Jul. 20th, 2015 08:39 amThe last day at Salem, and we're already planning for leaving. Brought the hand truck, empty pottery boxes, bag and case for the EZUp sides and canopy up to the booth last night after closing. Today we'll hide them between the back of the booth and our loyal shade tree. Take down the front wall panel instead of just rolling it up, and use it to cover the stack of stuff. I'm a little concerned about take-down; if everyone comes in by the main path, I foresee enormous gridlock.
Weather breaks a little cooler today, though still hot. We're doing okay in our booth--with half the back open, we have a little breeze running through, and the big oak behind us gives shade pretty much all day. Some of our neighbors across the way aren't so lucky: south-facing booths and variable shade. The metal artist has an enormous neck cooler and a basin of cold water to rest her feet in; the hat-maker has a patio umbrella she moves from one side of booth to the other with the sun. The stone mosaic folks have abandoned their booth entirely, set up in the middle of the way with camp chairs and beach umbrellas.
Traffic is definitely up today, and we make almost as much in sales today as Friday and Saturday combined, transforming this show from "maybe" to "definitely" apply to again next year. Some folks who buy are coming back after looking all weekend. Several have already bought pottery and have come back for more. And many plan to look us up in August in Silverton as well.
A young couple with two tiny blond girls stop in the booth. The one who's walking is fascinated by my "anyone can pet the pottery" policy. I encourage her to touch the hummingbird painting on the pasta bowl, tell her it has a pink chin like her (and tickle her chin). She giggles, then delicately strokes the rims of pasta and platter--one with each hand--while I talk to her folks about my work. At one point she spins around and says to her even littler sister, in the stroller, You can touch them!
Around 2 pm, a member of the board stops by to tell us that they've decided to let people on our side of the show load out via the soap box derby track, about ten yards away. We'd need to park on the track and carry or truck our boxes down the slope and over the curb. I say thanks, but would rather wait and bring my van in to the booth. Hand-trucking stacks of pottery boxes over uneven ground is a recipe for disaster, in my experience. In the event, enough people take advantage of the alternative that, by the time we've boxed the pots and started taking down the shelves, the main path is clear and there's plenty of room to get in, park and load directly into the van. We're packed and out in under two hours.
Sales. Really, really good.
Weather. Hotter than Friday, but definitely more bearable than yesterday.
Owl attacks. Well, you know… no more than usual.
Weather breaks a little cooler today, though still hot. We're doing okay in our booth--with half the back open, we have a little breeze running through, and the big oak behind us gives shade pretty much all day. Some of our neighbors across the way aren't so lucky: south-facing booths and variable shade. The metal artist has an enormous neck cooler and a basin of cold water to rest her feet in; the hat-maker has a patio umbrella she moves from one side of booth to the other with the sun. The stone mosaic folks have abandoned their booth entirely, set up in the middle of the way with camp chairs and beach umbrellas.
Traffic is definitely up today, and we make almost as much in sales today as Friday and Saturday combined, transforming this show from "maybe" to "definitely" apply to again next year. Some folks who buy are coming back after looking all weekend. Several have already bought pottery and have come back for more. And many plan to look us up in August in Silverton as well.
A young couple with two tiny blond girls stop in the booth. The one who's walking is fascinated by my "anyone can pet the pottery" policy. I encourage her to touch the hummingbird painting on the pasta bowl, tell her it has a pink chin like her (and tickle her chin). She giggles, then delicately strokes the rims of pasta and platter--one with each hand--while I talk to her folks about my work. At one point she spins around and says to her even littler sister, in the stroller, You can touch them!
Around 2 pm, a member of the board stops by to tell us that they've decided to let people on our side of the show load out via the soap box derby track, about ten yards away. We'd need to park on the track and carry or truck our boxes down the slope and over the curb. I say thanks, but would rather wait and bring my van in to the booth. Hand-trucking stacks of pottery boxes over uneven ground is a recipe for disaster, in my experience. In the event, enough people take advantage of the alternative that, by the time we've boxed the pots and started taking down the shelves, the main path is clear and there's plenty of room to get in, park and load directly into the van. We're packed and out in under two hours.
Sales. Really, really good.
Weather. Hotter than Friday, but definitely more bearable than yesterday.
Owl attacks. Well, you know… no more than usual.