Twice a year, barring flooding, it is time for the War Eagle Craft Fair. It is held out in the middle of a huge cow pasture, near the river and the old mill. It is about a seventy mile round trip for us to get there, and I know that isn't that far - but I don't usually venture that far from home. First, there is the gas involved, the fear of a flat or car trouble (even though our car is perfectly fine) and the guilt I sometimes have from doing something "fun" while The Breadman is working. But, you know what I have decided? Life is short. The Bean is this.close to growing up and leaving me. I deserve to have fun too. (He is Mr. Season Football Ticket Holder afterall...). So, this year I am all about getting out there and having FUN and enjoying the day. Yeehaw.
So, this morning off we went to the War Eagle Craft Fair. We used to go when I was a kid and my relatives from KS even planned trips here during craft fair weekend. My Grandmother's house was full of many of the things she bought there over the years - burl wood vases, handcrafted wood inlay mirrors, wooden tulip carvings, a stained glass slag lamp and more. There are two sides to the Fair - one side is a Juried Craft Fair - by invitation only - it is fine art, pottery, quilts, photography, etc. All handmade lovely items. The other side by the Mill also offers handmade things with a mixture of booths filled with antiques and junk and flea market-y type items like tie dye t-shirts and personalized license plates. People come from all over the United States to sell and to attend this fair. I met a lady that had come with a bus full of her old college graduates from Louisiana and a family from Kansas that comes every year. People are all friendly like while you are stuck in the bathroom line.
You are not allowed to take photos of any of the booths or the crafts/artwork, so I couldn't get any pictures of the actual Craft Fair items. I've been to two local craft fairs this past month and seen my share of kitschy crafty what-the-heck were they thinking crafts. But everything here was so nice. I don't think I saw a single tacky thing. Except the sign that said, "My Indian name is Runs with Beer", that was a bit tacky. But, it was very nicely made!
We walked four huge tents chock full of things for three hours before we finally caught sight of the Mill. The actual War Eagle Mill.
We had to wait in a lengthy line to cross the bridge to "get to the other side". Just like a bunch of chickens. I love to take photos of the Mill and the river, but the foot traffic was so fast, that I didn't dare stop to take a good photo for fear of being ran down. My legs are shorter than most, so I have trouble keeping up with fast moving crowds in the first place. Let's see how I did taking photos as I walked and did the old point and shoot.
The river and the dam - not too bad.
The other side not too bad except for the guy that walked up beside me. Oh, wait, that's The Bean. Never mind.
The Mill itself. Kind of crooked, but not too bad.
The highlight of the Mill is the Bean Palace Restaurant. I am not a beans and cornbread kind of gal, so it humored me to see everyone sitting around eating big bowls of brown beans and cornbread. Not your usual fair food.
Speaking of which - anything look good? I'd take a turkey leg, roasted ear of corn and a lemonade. But, I'd have to take out a second mortgage on my house to afford it. About $45.00 for the two of us if I did buy those things. (Cheapo me packed PB&J because I didn't want to spend $16.00 for a couple of turkey legs. Can you blame me?)
So, at this point, you are saying, "Well, Shara......what did you buy?" I usually don't buy much of anything because it is expensive (and by expensive, I mean I saw an $8,000.00 carving of Jesus and a $500.00 witch on a motorcycle) and I do so love my yard sale and thrift store vintage finds. I did buy an handmade scrolly letter "S" to wear on a necklace. But that is all I planned to buy. But, then I walked past a booth and I looked down and something spoke to me. I swear!
I saw this face looking up at me and she said, "Take me home, please Miss?" And I swear to you she has a British accent, although I have no clue why! As I told her (in my head) that I really did not need a doll nor did I need to spend money on something as foolish as her, she said, "No one at this whole fair will ever take as good as care of me as you will." She was right, of course.
I whipped out my money, paid for her and carried her off like she was my baby girl. I hadn't gone twenty feet and three customers and two vendors stopped me to see her. But, they were out of luck - she was one of a kind and now she is mine, all mine. I've named her Dawby in honor of Doby the House Elf in Harry Potter who also only had one sock to his name.
Does any one think I have lost my mind completely this time?
Me and the cat love her. And that is plenty for anyone.