Watch this space

 I'd really meant to post about Clayfolk by now, but since we got home Monday morning, I've:

1. Emptied and inventoried and reloaded the van. (Though not restocked. That'll probably happen Thursday.) Also swapped out booth parts, going from the 10-foot setup we use at road shows to the 8-foot booth that's standard for Saturday and Holiday Market.

2. Spent an entire day glazing, finishing up, so I can load the kiln on Monday.

3. Got in a car accident coming out of the Jerry's parking lot Monday afternoon.

So, this morning I'm taking the car into the body shop to see how much it will cost to replace a torn-off front bumper. This afternoon is setup for Holiday Market.

Soon. I promise.

Safari, so good

From last Thursday's setup at Clayfolk. Surprisingly enough, despite excellent sales, all three of these came home with me. Go figure.

Clayfolk, remembered

When last we heard from our protagonist, he'd spent six hours on the computer, revising Clayfolk advertising to take into account a tremendous snafu: somehow, the venue had been reserved for the wrong weekend.

I finally got more information when I got to Medford. First off, it wasn't our fault (except for a certain vagueness in terminology). We'd reserved the weekend before Thanksgiving, as always, though apparently nobody actually said "November 21, 22, 23 and 24." So someone at the Armory, working without a calendar, signed us in for the wrong weekend, because Thanksgiving comes so late this year. Then compounded the error by allowing someone else to reserve the venue for a concert on Friday, the 22nd, featuring a big touring Norteño band from southern California with a huge local following, and busloads of fans coming up from NoCal.

So when the Armory called us a week early saying, "Why aren't you setting up?" everybody gave a big ulp.

Fortunately, our treasurer's husband is a realtor with contacts in the local business community, and a couple of the local tv stations also put out feelers. Within about a day, they'd found a vacant Toys R Us less than a mile from our usual venue, slated to be gutted and reincarnated as a Market of Choice grocery store. MoC and the property manager allowed us use of the space free of charge, and the Armory refunded our payment, so we actually came out to the good.

That is, if you don't count the huge amount of sweat that went into making the place habitable. It had last been used for a seasonal Halloween store, and the check stands were covered with grody black peel-n-stick paper, the floors were filthy, display hardware was scattered around the sales floor. A cadre of Medford members spent four or five days just cleaning the place, then rejiggering the floor plan to take into account the pillars that weren't included in the original map.

Some things couldn't be fixed. There was no way to get power to individual booths for lighting, though some of us tried our own solutions. That said, the overhead light was actually pretty good: there were a half-dozen skylights, and lots of fluorescent fixtures. (Unlike at Brammo, in the old Talent Walmart building, where they'd removed every second set of tubes.) And the check stands had lots of nice counter space and room for two checkers, but not for the two wrappers who work with us.

So this is what we saw, coming in on Thursday--

The booths were set way back from the entrance, and the check stations crowded off to one side. Again, the pillars dictated the floor plan, and it actually filled up a bit Saturday and Sunday, once Demonstrations and Kid's Clay were set up. Friday night, though, there was a lot of room around the cookie table.

Once you hiked to the booths, though, it was pretty nice. Wider than usual aisles, good lights. We were worried whether people got the word about the venue change, but two local tv stations covered us, the Medford daily newspaper put an update on the front page, and it was all over radio. In addition to my corrected ads and e-card, volunteers went around town pasting Avery labels onto posters and postcards We even posted a sign at the armory, and had some volunteers down there Friday night to collect stragglers (Less than a dozen cars showed up).

Meanwhile, at the show, doors opened at 4 pm. The last of the line came through the door at 4:25. That's right, it took 25 minutes to get everyone through the doors. We were mobbed. One of the potters on sales with me asked a customer where they'd heard about the location change. Where didn't we? they replied, It was everywhere.

I was on sales, as usual; our VISA chair trusts me to be fast, accurate, and able to help others in a pinch. We used the same Square terminals as Ceramic Showcase and Clay Fest (literally. Showcase bought 'em, and has amortized the cost by renting them to everyone else), with a few upgrades: taking phone numbers in the Add Note field, skipping signatures entirely. When the first crunch hit, the sales line ran to the back of the hall and around the corner, but processing went fast, so I didn't really get any angry customers this year. Most were just impressed how smoothly the process went.

Denise, meanwhile, was working her buns off in the booth, digging through boxes for restock, finding pots for special requests. We're thinking she may need to train in as a cashier next year, take my sales shift so I can spend the busy shift in the booth.

So all the fears turned out unjustified. Sales were beyond good, not quite our best year ever (Brammo still holds that title), but certainly in the top two or three. I consolidated two boxes of restock pies and pastas into one, likewise two boxes of serving bowls. Of a box of restock tall mugs, I had one mug remaining, and of two boxes of dinner and dessert plates, I had... nothing. Sold every one.

Good thing I have stock in the shed at home. Better thing that I have a firing coming up soon.

Power moves

Not having power for booth lights worried me. I have a lot of pots in the booth, and while one set of shelves are raked (larger shelves on the bottom, smaller above), the other set isn't, so work lower in the display gets shaded by the higher shelves.

I've worked my way around it by incorporating under-cupboard lights, LED bars that link together and run to a single plug. I've also just converted my main lights to track lighting with LED bulbs. My entire booth power budget is about 150 watts. None of which helps me if I can't plug in.

The last time we went without power, the year we were at a former Walmart in Talent, I bought a lot of battery-powered button lights, which kinda worked? They were pretty bright, at least at first, but they went through batteries like nobody's business. They each took three AA cells, and needed a new set every morning; in fact, they started dimming out by mid-afternoon. I really needed something better.

Something like this. This is a deep cycle marine battery, $89.99 at BiMart (plus the $12 core charge), and a 400/800 watt inverter that cost $24 at Harbor Freight, to convert it to AC current. Two plugs, which was perfect for the track lights and light bar, and it even has a USB port, which I didn't notice until this morning. I already had a battery charger, relic of a period when our car had a short-circuiting power window button, so took the whole works with me.

It worked, mostly. Friday we had light all evening, and we charged up in the motel room overnight. Saturday, the power lasted till about 3:30 pm, and Sunday much the same. If I have to do this again, I'll invest in a better charger--mine didn't get much past 75% charge in the time available--and possibly another battery. If we connect them in parallel, the voltage stays the same, but we'll have twice the amps to play with.

Still, on the whole, it was a successful experiment. I can't begrudge $125 on a show where I grossed over $6000.

Voices from the past

Sunday afternoon at Clayfolk, and a voice says, Is that Frank? Do you remember me? It's Amy Ruth!

And the thing is, I do. The voice is familiar, the face almost, and the name rings a vague bell. But I can't figure out from where.

And no wonder. Amy Ruth was one of our student employees at the UO Craft Center, when I was a resident potter there. Back around, oh, 1993. (Sadly, a year after co-resident Peter Meyer left, or we could have had a double reunion.) She's 44, now, married, with five kids, a 16-year-old daughter and stair-step boys. After some time in Anacortes, and years in Forest Grove, she missed the sunshine, so they moved back to Southern Oregon two years ago.

The boys were with their dad at Kids Clay, but I got to meet daughter Addie Rae. Amy picked out a woodpecker mug for her carpenter husband; Addie Rae spotted a raven mug for herself. And I snapped a pic, for here, and to send off to Diane at the Craft Center, assistant director then, now in charge of the whole shebang.

What's that, Geoffrey?

Sounds good to me!