The hubs, aka Mr. Supportive, has helped me to reframe my vision for the show. Rather than a pure sales event, he considers it 'market research'. When you put it that way, how can I do anything but succeed? If nary a pot sells, I will know exactly what people don't want to buy. It is like an Econ class, only a lot less boring, considerably more work, and with a smidge higher probability to be ego damaging.
Determined to have fun, regardless the outcome, I made magnets today. I used the same little glass I used to use to make biscuits. (Now I cut them into squares per the best biscuit recipe I've ever tried. It is a Fannie Farmer winner. The guy who posted it got most of it right, although he has you brushing butter on the biscuits rather than dipping them in the butter as the cookbook suggests. Hello? Why would anyone choose to use less butter?)
Back to the magnets: simple circles with Heather Shuker Pottery scrawled on them. The plan is to glaze them a variety of colors and hot glue a magnet on the back. Now I challenge you to find a piece of artsy craftsy homemade marketing merchandise that is more fun to make. I sat on my deck in the sunshine listening to the dribbling creek out back rolling out clay and making biscuit magnets. Heaven. If my wheel was a touch lighter I would drag that into the sun on these beautiful days too. Or, more likely, have the hubs do it for me. But Mr. Supportive has his limits.
As for my garden, it seems it has decided rather than patiently waiting for me to give it more attention, to fend for itself; much like everyone else in my household lately. The potatoes have sprouted leaves, as have the sunflowers and snow peas. The latter of which are my new favorite baby sprouts. Those peas grow their leaves with a stylish pizzazz. I half expect them to throw on heels and go dancing.
My peppers are up inside. I've run out of room in the area the hubs created for the seedlings so I've had to move them into my pottery space. Now every time I go to wedge clay I have to shuffle around seed trays. Some may see the shear quantity of seedlings growing in my basement as ridiculous, however I find the abundance comforting. That said we'll see how I feel when I have a peck of peppers to dispose of. By the way, how could Peter Piper have picked pickled peppers? Isn't that a process that occurs after you pick them? No wonder children don't know where food comes from. If the Lord of the Flies scenario happened to today's youth they'd starve to death looking for a chicken nugget tree.