Wet beasts

[offcntr]

I almost called out. Saturday Market requires reserved-space vendors to check in by Thursday afternoon, so the office can have our envelopes ready. I'd RSVP'd by Tuesday, because otherwise I forget, but I could still call and cancel, as long as I did it before 8:30 Saturday morning.

The forecast was for 94% chance of rain, temperatures no higher than 50°. All signs pointed to a wet, miserable day. I even had an excuse: seven batter bowls in the studio that needed trimming. Although, truth to tell, they were still too wet to trim. Thank you, 100% humidity.

And besides, I just can't. Too much Catholic guilt, or something. When I make a promise, I really have to keep it.

It was raining lightly, setting up, so I got the roof and walls up, hustled the shelves in and toweled them down. Stacked up all the boxes in the 8x8' space, then shuffled them around to access the spots on the shelves where the pots went. Walked past the stormwater rain garden on my way to Farmers Market and saw it was working as designed, three or four inches of water in it. Took a video for Instagram, and tagged in a few wet beast-patterned pots for good measure, then hunkered down to wait it out.

Lots of vendors missing, though our stretch is pretty full; guess we're all diehards. I expected a horrible slow day, but actually sold a mug around 10:20, pasta bowl shortly after. Talked with a family visiting from Texas to attend Track and Field trials; Dad later came back to buy a woodpecker mug.

Another couple with college-age daughter stopped in; the mother admired a $48 panda cookie jar, so dad said he'd buy it. As I was punching the sale into Square, she saw the shark and octopus mugs, so he added them to the bag as well. She asks, Do you ever do orca mugs? As it happens, I have one in the restock box, and dad shrugs resignedly. I'm beginning to feel a little guilty by now; Denise makes a joke about how he could call it an early Mother's Day present. I'm taking her to France for Mother's Day, he replies. So I guess he can afford it.

Coming out of the PortaPotties later, I overhear a young woman, washing her hands, say, "You know that pottery booth? I un-ironically love those dinosaurs." So I have to butt in from the next sink to say thank you, and ask, "Un-ironically?" She explains that she really loves them, as in, wants to have one, so I walk back with them and wrap up a brontosaur bank for her to take home.

Another of my students from Brushmaking stops in to show me her finished bowl. Becca's the one with Chinese brush-painting experience, and her bamboo and birdies came out very well, although her red-stain signature square on the outside of the bowl seems to have vanished in the firing.

It's May the Fourth, so Market declared it Science Fiction day. Lots of vendors and staff in Star Wars garb. I make a joke about channeling the Hitchhiker's Guide to Cheri as I loan her my towel. then have to explain the joke. Denise and I don't particularly follow Star Wars beyond the movies, but have played around in Trek fandom for years, so I wore my latex Klingon forehead prosthetic and a do-it-yourself honors sash, while she sported a Next Generation red-and-black commander's uniform sewed from two sweatshirts and featuring a brass and bronze communicator pin I fabricated in the jewelry lab at the Craft Center. Rachel took a pic for Market's Insta feed; unfortunately, I snagged the forehead taking off my glasses, so it's a little skewed.

The rain never let up, so packing up was another challenge. Finally got a little break around 5 pm as I was ready to load up the boxes, though the booth roof and walls were thoroughly soaked, and will likely remain so at least until Thursday, when we may finally get some sunshine. I couldn't complain, though. For a $700 day, I'll put up with the rain.