The U Dist street fair was a bust this year. Saturday was windy, blowy and occassional showers. Large crowds, but sales weren't that great. And after sitting out in the damp breeze all day, I lost my voice by the end of the day. Just a mere squeek was my response to everything.
Sunday was a solid downpour of rain and even colder temperatures. We had one hour of no precipitation all day. A big "Thank you" to the makers of Gore-Tex. I myself don't have any, but for all those crazy wonderful folks who donned their gear and came out Sunday. I have no idea why we had crowds, but we did. Smallish groups and not as willing to shop or carry bags, but neverlethess, it made the day somewhat worthwhile. All in all, however, as I said, Big Bust. Worse show I've ever had there. And I'm D.E.D. today. That's the dramatic spelling for dead. I've upgraded from a squeek to a hoarse whisper, with squeeky accompaniments. Or is that horse whisperer? Yesterday I sounded like a chipmunk, now I'm more like a horse.
It was still raining so hard, I had to leave the entire sopping wet mess in the car last night when I got home. I hated to open the doors this morning. I expected huge, creeping mounds of molds, moss and street dirt. The still-dripping bins and tarps and tablecloths have now made it into the dining room. And the rest of the day will be unpacking, cleaning off, making piles of everything that needs to be re-labelled, re-packaged, dumped, trashed or otherwise dealt with. I've got only 3 days until I'm setting up the whole lot of it over at Seattle Center for the Folklife Festival. So I can't waste time this week.
But I'm sick. Of it all, at the moment. And too tired to think. Sure, it could have been worse. We could have had the thunderstorms, lightening and possible hail they talked about. It was just rain. And lots of it. Like record breaking, I think. And I'm pretty sure most of my stuff is salvage-able. Even me. There's your bright side.