The morning after

I have this little relationship with my blog. And its readers. I know there are a handful of folks who check in every day. And now that I've given out some new business cards, I might even get another reader or two. That's exciting. When you have this relationship with your blog, you have the compulsion to check in often...write something new, share some details. Certainly give the little recounting of how yesterday went. And if you're a blogger who also happened to participate in past festivals, you should have known enough to recall the way you feel.... the...morning...after. It's not that it's the most difficult thing in the world standing on a concrete floor, talking to people who don't know you about the things you made that they think are pretty which they may or may not be about to buy. It's actually very interesting. And the people are always, always nice. I only recall one not-nice person ever and that was a couple of years ago when I had the gall to sell something she liked to someone else. She'd come back to look at it more than once, but she kept leaving and never once made a commitment that she would be purchasing it. She got a little not-nice that day.

That didn't happen yesterday. Yesterday was nice. Everyone was happy and cheerful (well, all the customers; a few of my friends the other pottery vendors were a little tired but the were nice and mostly cheerful, which is plenty in my book,) and a good time was had by most.

But I want to tell you ALL about it. I think I will, too. But I really and truly am just so tired. That tired that comes when every night leading up to an event you stay up far too late preparing, and work a little harder on the whole package, then it comes, you do your best, then it's over and all you want to do is sleep for days.

This morning I woke up really early (for me) since I went to bed really early (for me) and had apparently had enough natural sleep. But it was dark out, I was still tired, and frankly didn't even bother to roll over and see what time it was. Just went back to sleep. You know what that gets you. Far too much sleep next go round, and sometimes an achey back. So when I got up at 8:30, I stumbled to the bathroom, ran the tub full of yummy scented water and dipped my aching limbs. Since I started reading Dena's book, Lessons in Stalking, last night, which my sister had been holding for me and forgotten to give me when we hung out the other day, and I knew it was a great funny read, I picked it up and took it with me. Hoping my fingers didn't tiredly let go and drop it into the blue water. It's new, and signed by the author, see, not an old magazine, which is usually the only thing I allow myself to read in the tub. (You can see I've got some experience with this.)

Where was I? Oh. So I took the hot bath and read the funny book (really, this is a great read and you should all go buy this book and give it as a gift to all your cat-loving friends,) then got out, managed to handle a couple of business phone calls, and here I am. Giving you a remarkably Attention Deficit Disorder-esque blog entry that has very little with yesterday's festival and very much to do with the way my mind is working this morning.

My intention was to quick say hello, let you know it went pretty well, and promise I'd be back later. After I find the coffee. Yea. Coffee'd be good. So that's the long, Melody version of just that. My wish for you is that I pull it together and can actually manage some focus. Because I have a lot to tell you but you'll never know it if I'm writing all over the place like this. Coffee. Did somebody say coffee???