If you know me, you know I knit. I am rarely sitting without needles and yarn in hand.
But this fall while knitting at a craft show, I honest to goodness had a woman come over and take the needles straight out of my hands. She just had to show me an easier way to knit. She said I was knitting the hard way. Really? Is there a hard way? She assured me that she has been knitting since she was three – because she is from Europe – and they know the way to really knit. Yes, how did she know that I’ve been looking for a strong-willed Norwegian woman to whip me into shape?
If you have ever seen my craft booth, you know that I know how to knit. Not only do I know how to knit, I am a very fast knitter. Yes, I know that there are pickers and throwers, and there are special styles to casting on and all that. The lady at the yarn store in town keeps bothering me to come in and take a class. I knit backwards or left-handed, or something like that. To learn how to knit correctly would just screw me up royally. Don’t you know you can’t teach a smart-aleck dog a new trick? Thanks for nothing, Danny Noonan, that’s all I need. (Sorry, obscure Caddyshack reference.)
Sometimes people just make me laugh. We all have this innate human nature in us that we feel we should tell other people “I am good at this and I can do it better than you” I guess.
Craft shows bring out all kinds of people: the silent shoppers, the big talkers, the fast browsers, and the little old ladies who just want to visit. You hear a lot when you sit in your booth. I love to people watch. I love the ladies who shop in groups and gossip the whole time. I love the husbands who follow their wives, shuffling their feet and looking around for some escape. One of my favorites was an older lady who shopped from the comfort of her powered scooter. Her little poodle dog sat in the basket on the front and her husband followed dutifully behind, picking things up for her to look at and scuttling about to fulfill whatever order she gave out. What a hoot. However, I must say my all-time favorite was in Council Bluffs at a holiday show. A gentleman dressed as Santa herded his holiday-attired geese around the show with a big staff. Each goose even sported a festive diaper. Carrie and I took plenty of pictures that day. The sound was delightful, the smell not so much.
I love to visit with the other crafters. Once 2pm hits, the craft shows are virtually empty and there is plenty of time to catch up with old friends and make a few new ones. We compare notes with other vendors on which shows are the best, who raised their booth fees, and who is just reselling products featuring “made in China” stickers on the bottom. We all gossip about the lady who pulls her purses out of shrink-wrapped plastic bags a few minutes before the craft show opens. I also enjoyed all the booths with the headbands and plastic flowers this year. I’m wondering how many people know that the vendor just bought those headbands in bulk from Hobby Lobby for less than a dollar each and popped a $2-3 flower they purchased at the same store? Hand-crafted sometimes just means taken by hand out of the bag. But the kids love it. I can’t say I haven’t purchased one or two of these headbands myself for gifts.
Yes, I am a craft-show junkie. I have become addicted to products made by many of my friends. I always hunt down Uncle Slappy’s BBQ sauce, pick up a bottle of cinnamon honey, buy an ornament from Dorothy, get a necklace or two from my cohorts, and then try to squeeze in a new end table I bought from the two crafter sisters I gab with at most of my shows. Jewelry and food, I always end up next to the jewelry and food, my weaknesses.
And when I bring my fourteen-year-old daughter Mandy along to help at the shows, well, I might as well plan to spend a good deal more. She finds jewelry, food (this sounds familiar) and recently a socktopus. At the Seward show she found an end table with a British flag painted on the top. She is addicted to all things British: British soccer, British television shows, boys with British accents. How many British soccer camps has the girl attended just to check out the British coaches? She was lucky I was a master at the game of Tetris or she would have been riding home with that thing on her lap.
Fortunately I had another good year this year to pay for all my craft addictions, as well as my daughter’s. I have several repeat customers and I know what people like to buy in the different parts of the state. But while I’m getting savvier, I’m building up that thick skin. You see, sometimes people don’t think before they speak. Actually sometimes people don’t think at all.
For example, I am well aware that many people know how to knit. I often hear “Oh, I could make that.” “I knit so and so and such and such.” Yes, that is fantastic. It’s probably beautiful and wonderful.
I make the things in my booth. You can buy them or not. They are products of a business. And if you don’t like the price I charge, Wal-Mart is generally just down the road. Of course, I would like to see someone make what I make for the price I make it. I get most of my yarn wholesale. Plus, almost everything I have I make my own pattern for. Yes, some of the things I sell are very basic patterns. Take, for example, a basic drop-stitch scarf. But my baby sweaters and dresses, my vests, as well as my hats, are one of a kind. Good luck.
I’ve also been told that I can’t have made everything in my booth myself. Very few people believe that I do everything by hand. They say that there is no way I have enough time to make everything there by myself, by hand. But I don’t own a knitting machine. Some women also argue with me that they just know that I crocheted a vest or a scarf. I have to simply say that I don’t know how to crochet, so how could it be crochet?
But for as many crabby people I encounter, I have as many wonderfully sweet shoppers to make the trip worthwhile. Everyone always loves the baby sweaters. I hear lots of oohs and ahs. They always remark, “if only I had a baby to buy this for today.” A gentleman a few weeks ago asked me if this was my grandma bait. Why, yes it is.
I wish I had a camera to record all the people I see at the craft shows. I love the Husker red. Most of my shows are on Saturdays, so I see tons of Husker red. However, when I was in Hillsboro , Kansas
My poor, sweet husband. I really couldn’t do any of this if he wasn’t there to encourage me, drive me to the icy shows, carry in the big items through the snow and sleet, or just meet me in the driveway after a show to unload. And I don’t know what it is about that man, but if I leave my booth when he is along, he will have sold $50-$200 worth of stuff during the time I was gone. I’m not sure if that is because he has a cute face, people feel sorry for a man there by himself, or if I just take a long time coming back because I talk too much. I’m gonna say a little of all three and leave it at that.
This Sunday was my last show of the season. My containers came home much emptier than when I started the season in August. In fact, I was able to leave a couple boxes and one table at home the last show because I sold so much.
Every year is a little different. I didn’t have my sister Carrie with me at any shows this year, because she is all grown up now wearing the big girl pants as a full-time librarian and a part-time student. My daughter Mandy picked up the slack this year. It was actually a delight to have her with me at many of my shows, in spite of the extra expense. She will get up at 5am without much prodding. Also, the girl can add up totals and figure the tax without any help from me, so I can actually leave the booth occasionally. All those muscles from volleyball and soccer mean she can tote in any of my boxes or racks, probably even better than I can. And she has an awesome eye for color, so I often find I don’t have to fix any of the displays she sets up, unlike her father (navy and black do not belong together, and yes the manikins need clothes).
There were even occasional bonding moments. She shared her iPod headphones with me during boring afternoons, and there were times I even appreciated her eye rolls. Sometimes that teenage sass helps take the sting away from crabby shoppers. I don’t know how many times we listened to Mumford and Sons. I also don’t know how many times the teen food deliverers needed to check that we got our lunch order. (Attention Odell teen helpers, just because you put your delivery tray in front of your face to talk about some girl does not mean that she can’t hear you. Also, grunting at her is not a good way to make a good impression.)
And now on to planning for next year, and for Christmas, and for Hawaii. I sat down this morning and honestly didn’t know what to do with myself. I had a cup of coffee, paid some bills, and wandered around the house. I guess I’ll put on some Mumford and Sons, make something for supper with my Uncle Slappy’s sauce, and wrap a few presents. Then I guess I will just twiddle my thumbs. Maybe I do need that strong-willed Norwegian woman to tell me what to do next.
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