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offcntrWeather 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.
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.