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Dear Diary – I headed out Friday morning for a craft sale in my home town. Youngest Son had a PA Day and decided to join me. He was the one who commented on a passing company van:
“Well those drivers have gotta be close to a hundred. Good for them that they’re still driving.”
“How do you know that?” I queried.
“The back of the van says “Over 100 years of experience onboard”.
A few minutes before that I had noticed the overhead electronic sign with a picture of a school bus. It also said, “Watch for children”.
“There are children on the highway?” I thought. I’m driving 100km/hr and there are children?!?!”
I suddenly had horrid visions of carnage and burning vehicles as they swerved and ploughed into each other, trying to avoid the children playing tag gleefully across the highway after their brightly painted daycare van inexplicably overturned.
Friday night my Dad and I tried setting up the new picnic shelter…under stars. It was cold, cold enough to see our breath. And the grass was wet. I called Youngest son to come out and help. He had worn flip-flops. That seemed about right.
The sun was winking at us over the crest of the valley ridge as we stumbled from our warm beds, eyes still puffy with sleep, to get ready for our big day. Dad and I piled into his truck, with Mom to follow in the car. It was the only way to get everything safely to the Market Square.
I worked with a vendor on the Market Square for 3 summers, braving full day sun and steamy temperatures. We used to soak our feet in buckets of cold water and snack on slushies to try to stay cool. I suffered heat stroke at least once every year.
There were no steamy temperatures this time, though the sun was shining. It didn’t take long to set up my stuff and we settled in for a long day.
It’s hard to put yourself out there. You don’t know what would appeal to someone, and you’ve put your creativity on display. Pricing items is the biggest challenge. You don’t want to undervalue what you’ve made, but there are also expenses to be met. Inevitably, you will be judged for what you’re asking, and some people don’t mind telling you with snorts of derision before they walk away.
All day we were surrounded by the sound of popping balloons and consequently, unhappy children, as well as the intoxicating smell of churros.
The churros were delicious…and popular!
Besides dancing to avoid the persistent hornets, we watched people. Amongst the senior couples and tired parents with gaggles of small children, one dog mamma stood out, probably because she had 3 chihuahuas in a covered stroller and one strapped to her chest in a baby carrier. They were all perfectly happy. There was also a woman in a bright, matching floral outfit, which was truly a wonder to behold. And then there were the witches…
They were a friendly group of gals also enjoying the sights and sounds of the Scarecrow Festival. One even invited Mom and I to join their coven. Actually, they perform and are open to new “sisters”.
It’s the thought that counts.
I had one lady looking for adult bibs and another looking for a tea cozy. Sorry ladies.
Through the afternoon, the wind picked up. Auntie M was visiting when a wind gust flipped a row of totes into a pile and crashed my easel of mini totes. No harm was done. Shortly after we restored order, Mom arrived with lunch for me. Except she left the house without my sandwich …but remembered tea, which was the more important thing any way. She kindly dashed down the street and returned with a pumpkin danish!
So. Much. Butter. Sooo good!
Dad arrived later with my tomato sandwich. I ate it too! Sitting works up an appetite!
As the final hour ticked by, all 3 of us had aching feet and were ready for nap. With only 2 chairs, Mom and Dad improvised…
I sold one wristlet, one mini tote, and one set of 2 bowl cozies. Two out of three of those items are Christmas gifts! Everything else is heading home with me again. I’m going to need bigger closets.
Be brave enough to suck at something new.
Unknown
Dear Diary – I seriously thought he had forgotten, and it wouldn’t be the first time.
It would be raining by the time Youngest Son headed home from school, and since I had to pick up a prescription at the drug store right across from the school, I offered to drive him home. But he had to meet me at the drug store!
I made sure I wasn’t late and I parked right by the door so he’d see the car if I was still inside. It was almost 15 minutes after period 3 let out by the time I got my prescription. It’s a 5 minutes walk for Youngest Son so I thought he’d be waiting outside.
He was not.
I rolled my eyes and drove home using his route, but I didn’t see him. I sighed and hobbled into the house yelling. I was met with silence. So I left a note on the door – “Call me. I can’t find you!! Mom”. Then, mumbling under my breath, I drove to the drug store near the house because it wouldn’t surprise me that he got “confused” and went to the wrong place. I wandered through the store, but no kid.
It wasn’t until I got back in the car that I realized…I was an hour too early.
I went home and sipped tea until it was time to head to the drug store…again. It was just starting to rain.
He didn’t show.
After 15 minutes, I drove home along his route, and found him more than halfway home.
He didn’t forget.
He was heading to the drug store near the house.
He seemed very confused as to the location of the drug store near the school…you know, the one we go to all the time! So I drove to the drug store a third time. He “remembered” it by the time we got there.
Maybe next time, he can walk in the rain.
Dear Diary – I started taking that medication I picked up on Monday. Last time I was terribly I’ll but we weren’t sure if it was the medication or something else.
By the next day, I felt like a wind-up doll winding down and I couldn’t get warm. By Tuesday evening, I was a shivering, aching, head-splitting, heart-pounding, sweating mass of misery. It was the death flu all over again!
I called my rheumatologist Wednesday morning and his assistant assured me it wasn’t the medication.
The internet said it could be!
The Dr. agreed I should stop, and ridiculously slowly I am starting to recover from the “Death Flu”. I saw my ankle bone for the first time this year but I’m not sure it was worth the agony. Nap time!
Dear nap…I’m sorry I was such a jerk to you when I was a kid.
Unknown
jennsmidlifecrisis 