What do I do all day? Sometimes I wonder, myself. I'm not anti social; I'm fine with solitude but enjoy being with people, rubbing shoulders, chatting, knowing what friends are up to. But, I'm covid-cooped. This is the first time in my life I've sat back and followed orders. It's time to take covid the shoulders and shake some sense into it.
Winter essentially is over; I've made it through the need to remove snow just to go up the road. A hopefully long and wonderfully warm spring, summer, fall waits. I stand on the deck, breathing it in. This spring I have no doubt what awaits. Work. My happiest occupation.
I'm exhibiting at all Peninsula Flea events this summer and fall. I signed on tentatively, wanting very much to participate, but needing everything to fall into place. And it has. A space in the barn became available. I can set up by myself and cover the booth myself. I can do this!
To that end I've begun accumulating equipment I need and that I can handle. The biggest score to date:
Look at that chair! When I saw it I dutifully scrolled to the end of the page, in the event an even better chair was available, then hastened back up the page and bought it. It is so light I can carry it myself. It is so firm I can stand up like a person, not like a struggling old lady. Look at the amenities. A table that can be a desk. On the other side, an array of pouches to hold everything. Hooray.
The chair arrived at the beginning of the week. I set it up, surveyed it, and realized I am totally in exhibitor mode. Back to the computer to begin accumulating all the "stuff" I need to be an exhibitor the first Saturday in June. Thinking of all the towels I must weave, that is the same as tomorrow!
I am so in the need of cherry blossoms of my own that on a run for toothpaste and toilet paper, I made the last second decision to drive through the cemetery for the trees. I was past the main entrance, and elected the service entrance, a fast and crazy left hand turn onto a dirt drive.
Bump, bump, thump, thump, I was glad I was not and never will be the occupant of a coffin. The dirt tract went on forever to meet up with a concrete tract. Even on a grey day, the pictures were fine, though.