Craft shows, not for the faint of heart.

I did a craft show last weekend and while it seems like a lot of sitting around it is a lot of work. Its a huge undertaking for me just to be pleasant for that long of time, not to mention paying attention, sounding interested and making eye contact. I use to do shows once in a while back in the 80's and now I remember why I stopped. People are so dang...interesting...they either say some of the most unkind, profoundly stupid things, want to know your secrets on what glue you use, flat out ask how you do things, complain of the price, talk about your table as though you are not there or ask to take a picture of your work so they can make their own.

Here is a sample of comments from last weeks show...

'you know, if you would have used swarski crystals and real stone beads on this necklace ($12) I would have bought it...' (so would have I)

'some lady said there was a table full of junk, I figure it must be you...'

'so how do you know what to stick to other things...hell, I got a drawer full of junk I can glue together too...'

'but these are just buttons??????'

(overheard comment by 2 tweens) 'my mom loves this kind of crap'

(whispered to me over the table) 'do you have a card, I am looking for people to be at my history show and this kinda works...' why is this a secret?

'you didn't actually use a REAL POSTAGE STAMP!!!!!!!! I COLLECT STAMPS AND THAT IS JUST WRONG!!!!'...calm down Lady, it was on last years Christmas card.

lady thrusting a necklace back to me...'this isn't a REAL vintage picture is it???, you ruined it you know!!!...jeeze lady take a pill, I scanned it...

and my all time favorite:
'what...the...fuck...is this????'

I think my next show will include a thermos of Baileys.

There were a lot of people who spent a long time looking at my display, trying to figure out what it was and commenting on how creative it was. That makes up for all the dumb crap that people say.

And frankly, what else am I gonna do with the stuff...

so look for me sitting behind my table, with my giant sippy cup filled with Baileys and a smidge of coffee, a goofy grin on my face, watching the clock till I can haul my stuff home to do it all again at another church or school.