See life

Weather continues balmy but reasonable--cool in the morning during set-up, rapidly becoming warm by the time Market opens, but not too hot, at least in my shaded and breezy booth. Reminded me of a nice day at the coast.

The vendor lottery seemed a little thin this morning; my neighbors, Brandy and Cheri speculated that a bunch of folks were home in the studio in a last-minute push before next week's Oregon Country Fair. It's possible. I know next week there'll be big gaps in the artist booths, bigger in the food court as everyone migrates out to Veneta for the annual bacchanal.

Eighth Street continues torn up and down to one lane of traffic, but this weekend, it's the lane that's normally parking on the north edge of both Park blocks. Robin and Richard stop by my booth, both unhappy, because they can't unload their pottery any closer than the far corner, and didn't bring a cart. I offer the use of my hand truck, but they decide to cancel their reserved space for the day and go back home. Robin tells me I'm fortunate in my timing. Last week, an enormous concrete sewer vault was parked right in front of my space, where I'd normally back in and unload. This week, the steel plates on Oak Street are gone, and there's new blacktop where they installed the vault.

Business is light but steady. I sell two honey jars to a mother and daughter, along with a couple of Denise's cards. A couple of animal banks, which brings up total nicely. Someone buys both of the featured dessert plates, sea turtle and otter, though passes on adding a whale or octopus. A young woman stops in the booth to say hello. She and her spouse had been out of town for ten years, saw us in Roseburg last weekend and were happy to see we were still in business. Not sure if they bought anything then, or plan to now, or were just checking in; it was that kind of a conversation.

Best moment of the day was when a young man saw the cheetah tall mug I'd taken to Roseburg, in hopes of selling it to a Wildlife Safari fan. No luck there, but he immediately latched onto it, because his name is Fahd--cheetah in Arabic.

Quiet

It's been surprisingly quiet the past few days, surprising, as this is our annual holiday dedicated to blowing shit up and setting it on fire American independence. It's usually pretty noisy in the days leading up to the big event.

I was particularly worried this year. In the past, we've forgone the big municipal fireworks displays in favor of just riding our bikes through the neighborhood, watching the nearly professional grade rockets people are shooting off from the middle of the street all around us. This year, a couple of weeks back, I was disturbed by repeated pounding noises coming from outside. Went out and discovered workmen using a power hammer to drive four-foot steel stakes into the blacktop of the parking lot at the Lutheran Church next door, setting up this.

It's a Factory Fireworks Outlet tent, they're here every year. They usually set up in the FourSquare Church lot down by the post office, one year in the Albertson's lot in Santa Clara Square. This was a little too close for comfort.

As time progressed, I waited for the product to arrive, the traffic, the explosions. The big sign offering the best prices--Compare and Save!*--presided over an empty tent. Finally late last week, I rode up to see they'd added a rather petulant panel to the bottom of the sign, Factory Fireworks Outlet has moved to Springfield, Junction City and Veneta. Today they've doubled down, added an even bigger sign with the same information.

Finally on Thursday, the mystery was solved. I happened to be listening to KLCC's top-of-the-hour newscast while running errands, and found out that Eugene passed an ordinance last October banning all home-based fireworks. Nothing more powerful than poppers and sparklers are allowed. This is the first Fourth of July since the ordnance ordinance went into effect.

Technically, they'd be in the clear, I think. Where we are on River Road, though Eugene in mailing address, is outside of city limits, in Lane County jurisdiction. This is lovely when property taxes come due, less so when we have to re-up our library cards, and lets us be supremely indifferent to all the nonsense the City Council gets up to. The border is a little patchwork, however; a lot of new developments, and older lots changing hands, wind up getting annexed by Eugene. (Fortunately, we bought our house in 2000, before they started this practice.)

I suppose it's possible that the Lutherans are in a patch of Eugene; more likely, the fireworks folks just don't want to risk being busted for selling to Eugene residents. Who may very well be smuggling in illicit rocketry down River Road from Junction City, or just going to the tent in the used car lot along Beltline, behind the wastewater treatment plant. But I hope the Lutherans at least get their rent money, if not repairs to the blacktop.

And I wait with bated breath to see how the Fourth pans out.



*I totally would have gone with More Bang for Your Buck! but then I'm like that.