America!

Did you know that Ben Franklin proposed the Wild Turkey as our national bird? He called it wily and intelligent, and pointed out that Bald Eagles were scavengers. (True.) If he'd been successful, do you think we'd be eating Eagle for Thanksgiving dinner?

Last Saturday Market of 2020, and the first time in a long time that I've been here this late in the season. The return to standard time means that the sun comes up around 7 am, though I'm actually here before that. Rain is predicted, and when I see it's still dry when I get up, I hurry down to set up before it arrives.

As it happens, the morning rain never materializes, but I still put up the sidewalls for the first time since June, and pack bags, wrap and empty boxes into the booth, rather than sprawling out into the bark much behind my space. It's a little snug, but not too bad, and the walls keep the north wind off my neck. I bring down an extra sweater, so I can change out of my sweaty flannel when I finish set-up and not freeze.

I have a lot of special orders to pick up, so I know it'll be a good day, but I have no idea how good--I set a new personal sales record, more than $100 past the previous one. It's a good thing I fired the kiln last week. Popularity of items fluctuates--tall mugs have been selling all summer, this week it's painted mugs, though I sell two of each to a nice man and his "assistant" (daughter). He also recognizes my name from the Saturday Cafe, even though it's been five years since I was on-air.

Most everybody is wearing their masks, though I have to remind a couple who parked in front of my booth and came directly here. One unmasked man stays just outside the booth while his masked wife looks at the pots. He notices the Holiday Market sign on the front of my booth, expresses disbelief that we're having it outside. I explain we can't afford the fairgrounds in our safely distanced configuration; he laments the lost warmth and live music. When I say we can't do music anyway, because crowds, he blames Kate Brown (our governor). I blame the virus (and assholes like you, I don't say aloud) and his wife hustles him away before he can say anything else stupid. Which relieves me of the responsibility of calling security to come make him put on a mask.

Rain showers finally start around 4 pm, and the customers clear out. When I drop off my envelope at Info, I continue on to the Overpark and bring my van down, park in one of the many empty spaces across the street. This lets me back it over to the curb at 5 pm sharp, transfer bags and wrap to make more room in the booth for packing, and move out boxes as soon as I have a stack of full ones. This means the pottery boxes stay mostly dry, shelves and display less so. The booth canopy and sides, of course, are soaked. I'm hoping for a sunny day this week to dry them out, so they don't mildew.

It's super dark as I box up pots, and while I thought of bringing my headlamp, I didn't actually follow through. I turn on the flashlight app on my phone and prop it in a business card holder, which helps a little. By the time I'm down to the shelves, the streetlights are on. I'm the last one off the Park Blocks at 6:35, save for a lone security guard under the backstage roof.

Next week, I'll be back for Holiday Market, shorter hours (10 am-3 pm) and a different location. One space to the left, 348.

I'm beside myself.

Out of the fire

Unloaded the last firing on Thursday, pausing to snap a few pix as I went. Denise's arthritis was acting up, so it took us longer than usual, with fewer stops to "ooh" and "aah." Generally a very good firing, though I'm still dealing with oxidation low near the door. I'm beginning to wonder whether air is leaking up through the floor, and considering pouring silica sand on the floor of the cart, under the bottom shelves, to try and plug the gaps.

Meanwhile, some of these are going to Market, some for commissioners, and in one case, both!

These pie plates and bakers are both for the booth. I had more glazed, but ran out of room in the kiln. I've got a fair supply of both, though, hopefully enough to get me through Holiday Market.

The four plates on the left are a gift from mother to daughter; daughter has been giving my pots for years, and finally gets some in return! The zebra platter is part of the order going to South African-born mom in Minneapolis, along with a big serving bowl featuring savannah elephants.

I have two full sets of cookie jars--small, medium and large--coming out of this firing, including the octopus, great horned owl, fox, panda and giraffe. Also some new pitchers, and a whole lot of tall mugs.

Lastly, a pair of roosters: a covered liner for use in an electric steamer, and a new tip jar for Market's Afghani Food booth... that I'm trading for hot lunch for the next two weeks. Qabili Pilaf with saffron potato and beef shish kebab. Yum!