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Aug. 30th, 2025
Inquiring minds want to know
Aug. 30th, 2025 10:02 pmWhy isn't there a thrash cover band called Punk Floyd?
I wasn't expecting much from Market; it's Labor Day weekend, which can mean more people leaving Eugene than visiting. Besides, there was a sportsball game in the afternoon, an uneven match between the Oregon Ducks and the Montana State Bobcats. But the weather was going to be nice, and I got a head start on glazing for the next firing on Thursday, so I figured, What the heck?
It didn't start out promising. You remember the place behind my booth last week, where we had to cut out a bit of shrubbery to clean up the feces? This week, there was a crack pipe there.
But anyway, the early morning brought lots of people in Duck green and yellow, a few in Bobcat jerseys. A trio of college-age young women stopped in a little after 10 am, looking around, and one of them spotted the goats soup bowl. Said her sister and partner had got a bit of land, and got goats, mostly for blackberry control. Bought the bowl, then went through the watercolor cards when I told her there were goats, bought one of them as well. One of the others also went through the box, picked out a giraffe and a goslings card. Then things went quiet for a bit.
They came back half an hour later; first girl had been on her phone with mom, who sent her back to get a goat mug as well. I'm gonna win at Christmas, she joked to her friends.
Then things got exciting. Laura, one of my regular Anacortes customers had been out of town that weekend, but would be traveling through Eugene later in the month. She'd emailed me to see when I'd be home at Market, but I'd totally forgotten when to expect her. Today was the day.
She started with a cat soup bowl and two painted mugs. A couple of catfood dishes. The cute sleeping cat dessert plate. Robin and horse soup bowls gifts for friends. A cat stew mug. Picked up the cat pilsner I'd been putting out forever, and when I said I had another in restock, took that one too. (Actually had two in restock, but didn't want to pile on.) Moose stew mug, another gift. Oh, and I found one of the grey cat dessert plates, extras from a special order, she asked me accusingly, And what is that? Bought it as well. In all, she got $315 in pottery, paid cash, gave me three cloth tote bags to put it in--really only needed two--and asked me to hold them until she and her husband came back later.
After that, things were surprisingly busy. Mostly mugs and bowls, a couple of dessert plates--including a goat plate the girls had missed--but also a frog bank and a big octopus serving bowl that was going home to Idaho.
We have a rosemary bush in the front yard that's trying to take over everything around it, so I offered some to a soap maker at Market. Denise was going to collect the cuttings and bring a bag down sometime in the morning. I kept half an eye out for her, but didn't see her. Was starting to wonder if she was okay, then wonder which food booth was using rosemary, as I kept getting whiffs of it. Finally occurred to me to look around to find an enormous grocery bag full in the back corner of the booth. I'd been so busy with Laura that I was totally oblivious to Denise walking up, handing the back to Chere and having her slip it into the back of the booth.
There are a couple of customer interactions that I particularly love. The first is when someone comes in and thoughtfully examines everything in the booth before picking the perfect piece. The other is when someone comes up the street, makes a beeline to the booth, and you know they came just for you.
I got both of them this afternoon. The first young woman was super quiet, a half-smile on her face, so I waited patiently. Finally picked out a bunnies stew mug, and we had a nice chat as I wrapped it for her. Mentioned how much I liked the smile, which got a laugh as well.
The other young couple zoomed in, talking up a storm. They'd gotten someone a butter bell as a gift last week, they'd loved it, now they wanted a full set for themselves, talked about where to start. Settled on a pair of tumblers, a raven and sea otter, and promised I'd see them again next week!
Talked with two different beginning potters, one a high-school or early college-age young woman, the other a woman about my age working at Clay Space. Passed on tips about my decorating process, told them about this blog. The young one was particularly grateful for the conversation--got the feeling she wasn't used to being taken seriously as an artist, which kinda made me sad.
Around two in the afternoon, a new white car/van/thing parked in front of the booth. Middle-aged couple got out of the front seats, teen-age boy out of the back. They were clustered around the back of the van, waiting for the rest of their party to arrive, I guess, when a little old man came around the front of the van from the passenger side. He was walking slow and careful, not unlike how Denise does without her cane. Stopped to look at the curb; he could probably have made the step up if the van was close enough to brace himself on the hood, or if he could reach the parking meter to steady himself, but both seemed too far away.
So I got up, came out of the booth, put out my hand and said, Can I help you? He took the hand, I put my other hand over it and braced him as he stepped up onto the sidewalk. He thanked me, stood there waiting while the rest of them did whatever they were up to--pulling the van forward when the car in front moved on, calling the others on the phone and holding the space until they got there. He pointed to my pheasant baker and said something I couldn't quite make out--the afternoon band was pretty loud--so I came back out of the booth, and he told me he used to see them where he lived in Washington. I said I'd seen them this time of year back in Wisconsin, once the oats had been harvested. He said they wanted to see the whole Market, but he'd like to look at my booth when they were finished, and I said I'd like that. About then, his daughter belatedly brought him his walker, surprised he'd made it up the curb on his own, and I went back in the booth.
They came back a couple of hours later, all in a flutter, so he didn't do more than give me a smile and a sweet little wave, but I watched to make sure they did a better job of helping him back down into the car.
Took advantage of a brief lull late morning to run the rosemary over Barbara; she and her husband came back late in the afternoon to thank me, and to pick out a pair of painted mugs, fox for him rooster for her. Said it wasn't necessary, but she said they really liked the mugs, particularly as she'd once had chickens. (Though it sounded like she'd lost the last three to predators. Foxes?)
By the end of the day I had yet another $1000+ day. I really need to fire that kiln.
It didn't start out promising. You remember the place behind my booth last week, where we had to cut out a bit of shrubbery to clean up the feces? This week, there was a crack pipe there.
But anyway, the early morning brought lots of people in Duck green and yellow, a few in Bobcat jerseys. A trio of college-age young women stopped in a little after 10 am, looking around, and one of them spotted the goats soup bowl. Said her sister and partner had got a bit of land, and got goats, mostly for blackberry control. Bought the bowl, then went through the watercolor cards when I told her there were goats, bought one of them as well. One of the others also went through the box, picked out a giraffe and a goslings card. Then things went quiet for a bit.
They came back half an hour later; first girl had been on her phone with mom, who sent her back to get a goat mug as well. I'm gonna win at Christmas, she joked to her friends.
Then things got exciting. Laura, one of my regular Anacortes customers had been out of town that weekend, but would be traveling through Eugene later in the month. She'd emailed me to see when I'd be home at Market, but I'd totally forgotten when to expect her. Today was the day.
She started with a cat soup bowl and two painted mugs. A couple of catfood dishes. The cute sleeping cat dessert plate. Robin and horse soup bowls gifts for friends. A cat stew mug. Picked up the cat pilsner I'd been putting out forever, and when I said I had another in restock, took that one too. (Actually had two in restock, but didn't want to pile on.) Moose stew mug, another gift. Oh, and I found one of the grey cat dessert plates, extras from a special order, she asked me accusingly, And what is that? Bought it as well. In all, she got $315 in pottery, paid cash, gave me three cloth tote bags to put it in--really only needed two--and asked me to hold them until she and her husband came back later.
After that, things were surprisingly busy. Mostly mugs and bowls, a couple of dessert plates--including a goat plate the girls had missed--but also a frog bank and a big octopus serving bowl that was going home to Idaho.
We have a rosemary bush in the front yard that's trying to take over everything around it, so I offered some to a soap maker at Market. Denise was going to collect the cuttings and bring a bag down sometime in the morning. I kept half an eye out for her, but didn't see her. Was starting to wonder if she was okay, then wonder which food booth was using rosemary, as I kept getting whiffs of it. Finally occurred to me to look around to find an enormous grocery bag full in the back corner of the booth. I'd been so busy with Laura that I was totally oblivious to Denise walking up, handing the back to Chere and having her slip it into the back of the booth.
There are a couple of customer interactions that I particularly love. The first is when someone comes in and thoughtfully examines everything in the booth before picking the perfect piece. The other is when someone comes up the street, makes a beeline to the booth, and you know they came just for you.
I got both of them this afternoon. The first young woman was super quiet, a half-smile on her face, so I waited patiently. Finally picked out a bunnies stew mug, and we had a nice chat as I wrapped it for her. Mentioned how much I liked the smile, which got a laugh as well.
The other young couple zoomed in, talking up a storm. They'd gotten someone a butter bell as a gift last week, they'd loved it, now they wanted a full set for themselves, talked about where to start. Settled on a pair of tumblers, a raven and sea otter, and promised I'd see them again next week!
Talked with two different beginning potters, one a high-school or early college-age young woman, the other a woman about my age working at Clay Space. Passed on tips about my decorating process, told them about this blog. The young one was particularly grateful for the conversation--got the feeling she wasn't used to being taken seriously as an artist, which kinda made me sad.
Around two in the afternoon, a new white car/van/thing parked in front of the booth. Middle-aged couple got out of the front seats, teen-age boy out of the back. They were clustered around the back of the van, waiting for the rest of their party to arrive, I guess, when a little old man came around the front of the van from the passenger side. He was walking slow and careful, not unlike how Denise does without her cane. Stopped to look at the curb; he could probably have made the step up if the van was close enough to brace himself on the hood, or if he could reach the parking meter to steady himself, but both seemed too far away.
So I got up, came out of the booth, put out my hand and said, Can I help you? He took the hand, I put my other hand over it and braced him as he stepped up onto the sidewalk. He thanked me, stood there waiting while the rest of them did whatever they were up to--pulling the van forward when the car in front moved on, calling the others on the phone and holding the space until they got there. He pointed to my pheasant baker and said something I couldn't quite make out--the afternoon band was pretty loud--so I came back out of the booth, and he told me he used to see them where he lived in Washington. I said I'd seen them this time of year back in Wisconsin, once the oats had been harvested. He said they wanted to see the whole Market, but he'd like to look at my booth when they were finished, and I said I'd like that. About then, his daughter belatedly brought him his walker, surprised he'd made it up the curb on his own, and I went back in the booth.
They came back a couple of hours later, all in a flutter, so he didn't do more than give me a smile and a sweet little wave, but I watched to make sure they did a better job of helping him back down into the car.
Took advantage of a brief lull late morning to run the rosemary over Barbara; she and her husband came back late in the afternoon to thank me, and to pick out a pair of painted mugs, fox for him rooster for her. Said it wasn't necessary, but she said they really liked the mugs, particularly as she'd once had chickens. (Though it sounded like she'd lost the last three to predators. Foxes?)
By the end of the day I had yet another $1000+ day. I really need to fire that kiln.
Some people
Aug. 30th, 2025 11:12 pmI don't get it sometimes. You think they'd pay attention to their surroundings. But no...
There's a vendor at Market, I think she's fairly new, but she's been selling on our block in various spaces--including mine, Anacortes weekend--all summer. So when she brought her car down to load out and parallel parked in front of Jim's booth, I went out and asked her if she could reverse angle park like the rest of us; it allows twice as many vehicles at the curb for load-out. Oh, there's plenty of room for him, she pointed to Ed, parking his big red truck behind her. Yes, but Chere's also gone for her truck, and if you angle parked, there'd be room for her, too. Kate pipes up, And I'm parked right across the street; I want to back up to my booth as well.
Fine, she grumps, I'll pull forward. So she pulls forward to the base of the stairs and stops. Still parallel parked.
Some people.
There's a vendor at Market, I think she's fairly new, but she's been selling on our block in various spaces--including mine, Anacortes weekend--all summer. So when she brought her car down to load out and parallel parked in front of Jim's booth, I went out and asked her if she could reverse angle park like the rest of us; it allows twice as many vehicles at the curb for load-out. Oh, there's plenty of room for him, she pointed to Ed, parking his big red truck behind her. Yes, but Chere's also gone for her truck, and if you angle parked, there'd be room for her, too. Kate pipes up, And I'm parked right across the street; I want to back up to my booth as well.
Fine, she grumps, I'll pull forward. So she pulls forward to the base of the stairs and stops. Still parallel parked.
Some people.