Corvallis day 0: Some assembly required
Sep. 25th, 2015 08:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
offcntrI'm setting up without Denise today, so I leave as early as possible: noon, since set-up is 1-4 pm for Corvallis Fall Festival, and it's about a 45 minute drive. Of course it's raining as I leave town, though it stops before I hit Hwy 99. Starts again in Monroe, stops at Bellfountain, starts again just outside Corvallis. Do you see a pattern? See also: Silverton.
But it stops again as I check in and get my packet, so I'm good. Set up is strange for this show. Booths are in three tangent loops in a city park, with additional grids of booths inside the two bigger loops. To access, you drive in along the sidewalks, coming in from the north and proceeding out the south end as soon as you've emptied your vehicle. I'm lucky, only one car on the path ahead of me, so I get fairly close to my space and start to offload.
This is where I miss Denise most. Normally, I move the bulky, heavy stuff--pottery boxes, shelves, things that will fit on the hand truck. She moves the odd-shaped things, the things that need to be walked in. Without her, I make more trips, take more time. It usually takes us 30 minutes to clear the van; on my own, closer to 45.
Of course at 35 minutes, a truck with trailer pulls up behind me, bound for a booth further along the path. They're nice, though, have brought their lunch and eat it while I finish up. And just as I take the last shelves out, a truck and trailer backs in from the south, blocking me (and them) in.
They have words with him. He has words with me, because I've left things lying on the ground in his space as I hurry to clear out. It's his first time here, he's clearly in the wrong, but there's no fair volunteers around directing traffic. I really miss Edmonds-style micro-managing right now.
Fortunately for me, there's a perpendicular walk out to the street with enough clearance that I can get my van out, over the curb and away from the conflict zone. All the neighborhood parking is 2-hour limit, though, so the clock is ticking.
I actually do pretty well. Get the booth up and shelves assembled in less than an hour; for a mercy, the area is really flat, so hardly any shims are required. I start setting out pots from the Saturday Market load-in boxes; after years of muscle memory, I can do this part in my sleep. Except for the parts Denise usually does. When I'm done with that part, the booth is 90% set, and I've got ten minutes left on my parking, so I declare victory, move all the rest of the boxes into the booth and close up the walls. I'll come in an hour or so early tomorrow and finish setting up.
Neighbors look like fun. To my left, a jeweler I know from Saturday Market. To my right, a double-wide booth full of puppets. And to their right, a booth full of Little Free Libraries. I'll have to tell my friend Lyda, who's just gotten one for herself.
But it stops again as I check in and get my packet, so I'm good. Set up is strange for this show. Booths are in three tangent loops in a city park, with additional grids of booths inside the two bigger loops. To access, you drive in along the sidewalks, coming in from the north and proceeding out the south end as soon as you've emptied your vehicle. I'm lucky, only one car on the path ahead of me, so I get fairly close to my space and start to offload.
This is where I miss Denise most. Normally, I move the bulky, heavy stuff--pottery boxes, shelves, things that will fit on the hand truck. She moves the odd-shaped things, the things that need to be walked in. Without her, I make more trips, take more time. It usually takes us 30 minutes to clear the van; on my own, closer to 45.
Of course at 35 minutes, a truck with trailer pulls up behind me, bound for a booth further along the path. They're nice, though, have brought their lunch and eat it while I finish up. And just as I take the last shelves out, a truck and trailer backs in from the south, blocking me (and them) in.
They have words with him. He has words with me, because I've left things lying on the ground in his space as I hurry to clear out. It's his first time here, he's clearly in the wrong, but there's no fair volunteers around directing traffic. I really miss Edmonds-style micro-managing right now.
Fortunately for me, there's a perpendicular walk out to the street with enough clearance that I can get my van out, over the curb and away from the conflict zone. All the neighborhood parking is 2-hour limit, though, so the clock is ticking.
I actually do pretty well. Get the booth up and shelves assembled in less than an hour; for a mercy, the area is really flat, so hardly any shims are required. I start setting out pots from the Saturday Market load-in boxes; after years of muscle memory, I can do this part in my sleep. Except for the parts Denise usually does. When I'm done with that part, the booth is 90% set, and I've got ten minutes left on my parking, so I declare victory, move all the rest of the boxes into the booth and close up the walls. I'll come in an hour or so early tomorrow and finish setting up.
Neighbors look like fun. To my left, a jeweler I know from Saturday Market. To my right, a double-wide booth full of puppets. And to their right, a booth full of Little Free Libraries. I'll have to tell my friend Lyda, who's just gotten one for herself.