People liked the comic book pinbacks and record bowls again this month. Yay money and accolades (in that order).
My veggie breakfast burrito from the Bakehouse had an odd mint aftertaste, but their coffee, drunk in between making sales and chatting with passers-by, was delicious.
My dear friend Betsy kept me company and crocheted plastic bags into purses and dish scrubbers. She was there to help me put the side panels up on my booth just before the passing thunderstorm hit, and we were able to do it in time even though we're the two shortest people you could ever ask to do such a job, because we are tool users (I try not to think again about Betsy reaching up, on tiptoes, standing on the narrow end of a cinderblock placed on uneven ground, in the wind).
Lots of vendors left right before the thunderstorm, which made the craft fair look a little sucky but just meant more customers for me.
Two hours after the craft fair closed, we were on our way to Indianapolis.
The girls, having gotten up at 6:00 am for the craft fair, both fell asleep in the car, and Matt and I got to actually, you know, talk.
Our hotel was crazy-awesome! Big fluffy comfy beds, big TV with all the good cable channels, a bowl in the workout room full of complementary oranges and apples for Matt to swipe, etc. I blow-dried my hair. I made Matt go down to the front desk and say I'd forgotten my toothbrush so they'd give me another one. I had the concierge give me brochures for stuff. When Matt caught me putting the packages of pretty leaf-shaped soap from the bathroom in my bag and I told him I was going to save them to put in the girls' stockings at Christmas, he tried to cut me off and I just had to tell him, listen, I am from Arkansas and he knew that when he married me.
I had to drag the family out the door to go to Walking with Dinosaurs because they wanted to see the end of Horton Hears a Who on HBO. I was all, "Everything works out in the end! We'll read the book again when we get home! Can we go make use of our $60 tickets to see giant animatronic dinosaurs now?"
Our seats were really, really good.
The dinosaurs were freaking amazing:
If you looked at a close-up shot on the big screen, at, say, the ankylosaur's face or something, you could tell it wasn't real, but we sat so close that if we'd sat any closer the brachiosaurus would have whapped us with its tail as it made the corner, and they. Looked. REAL! Before the show, we were doing our run-down again of the whole "the dinosaurs will look really real but they're not real, they're robots, and they'll be really big and stomp and roar but they won't leave the stage and they're just robots," etc., and the lady who was sitting with her husband and kid just one row in front of us, right at the front of the arena, keeps turning and giving us these looks and we're all, whatever. Her kid is, I don't know, six? I'm thinking, "She has a problem with us talking about the dinosaurs not being real? It's not like we're here to see Santa Claus or something." Anyway, the show starts, and the first scene is some dino eggs hatching into baby dinosaurs, and then the liliensternus sneaks up and snatches a baby out of the nest, and the kid in front of us jumps out of her seat and screams, "He killed it! He killed the baby! SHRIEEEEEEEK!!!" and is utterly hysterical. Yeah, they totally told that kid the dinosaurs were real.
I didn't take my camera because I didn't want to be distracted, but I probably should have anyway because you know I'm not completely happy unless I can take photographs of stuff. And that's why whenever I couldn't stand it any longer I took a shot or two with Matt's lousy cell phone camera: Lousy camera or not, however, I think you can probably still get the idea from this photo that a certain little girl really liked her birthday present: