The neighborhood

After years of bouncing from spot to spot, this year Silverton gives us the same--albeit renumbered--space as last year. I recognize the tree root I worried about last year that didn't--quite--high-center our 8-foot shelves. Other than that, this isn't a bad space at all. Almost level, unlike the year we had an eight-inch drop between the left front and back right corners.

We take our time leveling, shimming and organizing the display. It's 100° out, not a time to rush with fragile pottery. Fortunately, we're in the middle of a fir grove, so shade is abundant.

In the same space for a second year, I realize we're settled in a neighborhood. I recognize a lot of the vendors around us: Doug the jeweler, to our left; Lindsay the metalsmith and Joe the glass fuser across the way. More, they all know each other; they've been in this neighborhood a long time.

The only the new folks are down on the corner: Dave the door-knocker guy on one side of the walk, and photographer/watercolorist John Mancini, our neighbor from the Eugene Saturday Market on the other.  John is new to doing shows, and seems to see me as the fount of all show-related knowledge. I'm hot and cross, and after the third time he comes to ask me a question about the show, I remind him that all this information is in the show packet he got at check-in.