Summer arrived this week with a vengeance in my little corner of the world. I’m not a big fan of hot weather. I have a tendency to droop in the heat. (Don’t ask why I live in the desert.) At this time of year, snow starts to sound pretty nice. Which brings me to Christmas.
Before you decide the heat has boiled my brain like a plum pudding, let me explain that I’m taking the round-about route to my subject today.
When I was a kid, my mom would sign up every year to sell crafts and baked goods at local Christmas bazaars. She was a great seamstress (a talent I did not inherit, although I make weak efforts), and seemed to have a knack for choosing items that would sell well. Often, she’d sell out on the first day and spend the night making wares for day 2.
Now that I’m (supposedly) all grown up, I still get nostalgic about booth selling. I’m drawn to it like a moth to flame. Whenever a craft fair comes along in our tiny community, I have to fight the urge pretty hard not to grab a booth space. I fight it because I don’t have the knack my mom did for knowing what will sell. At the end of many a long day, the items I was so excited to make and share with the public are still gathering dust on my lonely table.
As July zooms closer, our town’s Fourth of July craft booths glisten in my mind. My husband had to remind me that the one time I tried a booth, it was supremely hot, and I missed out on all our family’s traditional activities while I tried to sell books to folks who really just wanted a Navajo taco or a snow cone.
So, I’ll fight the urge yet again to open a portable shop for a day. But that doesn’t mean I’m giving up on it altogether. There’s always the Farmers Market.