Friends, Romans, Countrymen

Saturday Market has a few iron-clad rules. The first is The Maker is the Seller. No kits, no imports, no resales cleverly disguised as originals.

The second involves respect to the community. No shouting. Don't badger the customers, call out to passersby, In the words of the members manual, No aggressively "hawking" your wares.

I wonder, does this count?

I mean, it's a hawk. Well, a kestrel, a sparrowhawk, tiny little thing. Probably smaller in real life than it appears on this big serving bowl. Hawking at a whisper.

Doesn't matter, anyway; a couple came in and bought it not two hours after I posted it as my Today's Theme Is on Instagram.

Chere, my usual potter neighbor, was gone down to California, driving the doggie rescue bus, so her space was occupied by a new member. New to Market, new to Eugene, and it was a crying shame she didn't sell at Country Fair last weekend. She'd have made bank.
Her name was Kira, business name Riddlemetrue's Leathercraft. Brilliant masks, key fobs, journals, bookmarks and fantasy maps. She'd just gotten back into the fair circuit after a move from California and a new baby. Who was there in the booth with her. Along with a four-by-four pop-up canopy, six grid panels, a table, two camp chairs, multiple boxes of product, a folding stroller and playpen. Her husband helped set up the booth and grids, then left to park the truck while she hung up masks and baby Rowan snoozed in the crib.

For a while. Twenty minutes, maybe thirty, before she started fussing. Began crying, quietly at first, then louder. There was only one thing I could do.

I loaned her my bear. Umberto bravely entered the playpen, and the fussing immediately turned to pleased gurgles. The distraction lasted long enough for her to get the rest of the masks out, and I helped move the stroller back into the unused space behind the booth, giving her enough room to organize the rest.

The day started pretty slow, I finally made my first sale around 11, a gravy boat and one of Denise's large journals. After that, things were steady: an incense dragon, some mugs. Four pie plates in a row. A trio of women, cousins, one of whom was the daughter of a retired Market glass and lapidary artist, crowded the booth, looking at all the painted mugs and tall mugs, before settling on four. The big kestrel bowl sold, to a couple who've been using Cornell bird lab's app and finally saw a kestrel live, after having its call IDed multiple times.

A young couple came in to get another mug, having bought one last weekend. He was wearing a University of Wisconsin-La Crosse track shirt, so I asked if he'd attended. No, but his mother had. Told him I'd been across town at Viterbo, met and married my wife there. He bought the bear mug, and a hummingbird French butter dish as well.

A little girl came in to look around while her sister was considering fantasy maps at Kira's. She was wearing a T-shirt that read, "I'm really a ladybug; this is just my human costume" and carrying a canvas tote covered by bugs, reading "Easily Distracted by Insects." I told her she really needed to visit my next door neighbor, Jesse, who makes shadow boxes and compositions around beetles and butterflies. Her squeals of delight probably attracted dogs in the surrounding six counties.

Sometime around two, the cousins returned. They'd scouted the rest of the Market, decided they liked my mugs the best, picked out five more, going through all the tall mugs in the restock box, arguing about who was going to pay and how. I just smiled and wrapped things.

Talked to several people from northwestern Washington, Bellingham and Camano Island, so was able to alert them to the Anacortes Arts Festival, and took their email addresses so I could send them my e-card.

Sold my last tall mug, a praying mantis, to Jesse just before closing. She'd had a really good day, a relief after last weekend's poor showing. Kira's day was slower--no masks, though she sold some dragon-eye key chains, a map and bookmarks. She's going to look into selling at the Renaissance Fair, and is doing one of her California shows. Sadly, FaerieWorlds, which would have been perfect for her, closed during the pandemic and didn't reopen.

I ended up at exactly $1100 for the day, bettering even last week's great day. Between the two, I covered ton of clay delivered at the beginning of the month.