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The Craft Show

...or Crap Show, depending on how you look at it.

Over the weekend, I put in my time working at the local craft show. It's hosted by the high school band boosters every year as a fund raiser, and all kinds of people are involved. The committee to fund playground equipment for the park had a table, and there was a tent where a guy made kettle corn in huge copper kettles, staying cool under a big tent. My job was to assemble creamed-chicken sandwiches in a hot kitchen with no air flow. I had to wear a hat and plastic gloves. Jealous?

All the crafters paid rent for a space on the floor and set up a booth for their wares. There were so many people selling country crafts in the form of snow men and Santas and piney trees covered in ornaments, they must have had a club. There were woven rugs and candles and things made with cinnamon sticks--I couldn't get close enough to find out what, exactly, because the smell was so strong, my eyes burned all the way through the hall.

There were wind chimes made of tin cups with old silverware hanging from the bottom, an assortment of goose clothing, and purses made from plastic panels made to look like candy and juice boxes. What's the appeal of those, I wonder? They seem to be everywhere.

I bought some kettle corn and a pair of earrings made by a woman named Lorie whose little daughter insisted on boxing up my purchase and putting it in the bag just so. My favorite purchase, though, is a marshmallow shooter.

In among all the tables full of stuff made by adults, there was a boy named Brady, about 12 years old, who was selling marshmallow shooters he had made with plastic pipe and spray paint. For $5, you get the shooter and a baggy full of little marshmallows, and Brady was even willing to demonstrate the toy. Of course I don't really want a marshmallow shooter, but I couldn't resist supporting the kid's entrepreneurship.

As a bonus, big guys in denim overalls were hauling in their tractors for an upcoming tractor pull, so I got to watch them unload their monster tractors. Again, what's the appeal? I don't know, but they seemed to be having a great time.

Comments

dive said…
Wow! That marshmallow shooter looks too much fun!
And big tractors! You're a girl, Robyn, so you don't get the same tug of overexcited childish emotion we boys get seeing stuff like that.
COOL!
9:24 AM
Neponset River Bridge Dig said…
Sounds like a fune time Scout. The best thing would be the marshmallow shooter, I can see a bunch of teens trying to shoot marshmallows in each other's mouths.

"Give me that thing ,don't you know you could take someone's eye out with that"?
9:30 AM
Anonymous said…
I'm forever banned from craft fairs after the last $368 slip up when I went nuts with the paper products. So I have to live vicariously through other people who are allowed to go to these things.
11:55 AM
Scout said…
Dive, no I don't get the appeal of the big dirty tractors, but the marshmallow shooter is a lot of fun.

Rich, it could poke out an eye, or it could be used to wake some unsuspecting kid on the head. It all depends on the mood, I guess.

Kate, I don't have "slip ups" at these things because I have enough crap at home. I don't need more, except yarn, but they don't sell that at craft shows. If they sold interesting paper, I guess I would have a problem, though.
12:36 PM
Gina said…
I uh, have never had a creamed chicken sandwich. Am I missing out on a culinary delight?
4:58 PM
Anonymous said…
I'm a hopeless junkie when it comes to paper.
2:43 AM
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