I don’t seem to learn.
I signed up for a Fair again. Why? To make me rich with my photos? To be discovered as a new artist? No, just to share some greeting cards as the Mother’s Day was around the corner. I found out, nobody writes to their mothers. Nobody writes cards. Period. Or their sisters/uncles/mothers/neighbors do cards or paint or what-ever. For $3, was I asking too much?
I met some nice people however. Alicia, next to my booth had hand-made jewelry, unique, different from the bead work every second booth was offering. Delicate, soft colors offered on a small table with stylish representation. We bartered, I got a chain from her, she got some cards. Works well at the fair usually. I bugged her with my chit-chat to kill time. She was gracious and listened.
The young woman on my other side was ranting as she was not making the money as she did last time. I considered helping her, but her stuff was…hmm. not my style.
The girls were piling up to get the beaded goodies on the next table. Or it could have been the Surfer Dude who was selling them. Maybe he had some girl magnets in the basket, as they were flying in like flies! He was nice to an old lady like me. And he writes to his mother. How do I know, he bought a card! During the six hours out there one gets to talk varied mount of people. To a lady who had two brain operations and prays to a saint that is represented by roses. She got four rose cards and her husband will frame them for her. Old lady, who was bend double and seemed to see with one eye only, but who also bought cards and was very appreciative with the beauty of them. A German woman, of course, a European flower lover. Orchids went with her. A gay couple, one writing to his Mother, he promised. A lady who bought Long Island photos for her sister coming to visit out-of-state, also bought a canvas bag. I have so many bags I’ll never get rid of them! I don’t know what happened when I ordered them. Optimistic, perhaps?
I was selling the cards $3 each. A little boy, maybe five years old and his mother stopped by. “Oh, flowers! Grandma loves flowers,” he chimed. “Which one can I buy for a dollar.” “Any one of them”, I said. He selected and selected. Mother tried to help. “No, Grandma does not like that color!” He loved the red rose. I advised him to pick up the one with two roses, him and his Grandma. He was delighted. Mother gave him his walled, the kiddy-kind with SpongeBob. Mother opened it. Empty! The boy’s eye flew wide open. Empty! “I might have used my dollar already.” he said, sadly. Still double checking the wallet. “I’m sorry.” Mother does not wink an eye. I did not offer a free one. We stood there for a while, the boy took his Mom’s hand and they left. You may think me as mean, but I was thinking, that this mother had a strict way bringing up her son, and I appreciated it. I went wrong with my kids somewhere, OK, you are out of your money, here take an other dollar. And an other one…Until I had none.
This time I was smart and did not buy anything. I barely got my table paid for! Profit? What is it? I got two offers to join an other fair, obviously somebody believed in my ware. I got a great contact for quality picture frames for dirt-cheap. I made a friend with Alicia and the Surfer Dude. Spoke with other artisans, a great photographer Michael, whom I have met before, a lady who painted glass and an other who painted porcelain. They reminded me of my Mother, who had it as her life long hobby. I saw a couple of sellers from previous fairs, changed a couple of words. Socialized. I also have to give thanks to my assistant, Mr. Hubby. He carried the stuff and the canopy and boxes. When the fair was over, the Fire Chief, a tanned Italian man, came over to give a hand. It irritated my husband. Who does he think he is, I’m not that old that I cannot pack my own stuff, he steamed. No, no, you got all wrong, I said, he came to help, because I’m so pretty! I at least believed so.
Well, a day was well spent all in all, sunny, not too windy, so the cards stayed on the table and time went very fast. An old girlfriend from work came by to chat. That was nice. I was so tired from the fresh air that I keeled over to bed by nine pm. Tomorrow I’ll sign up for the Fall Fair.
I’ll never seem to learn.