Sunday At Fingerlakes

Candance and I bedded down in her little tent and chatted about the events of the day. It was not as cold as Friday night so we were a little more comfortable. I had a glass of white wine with dinner and was ready for some serious shut-eye. I drifted off while she was still talking to me, not such good company. Unfortunately I pulled one of my familiar nocturnal episodes and my eyes popped open at three. I know the drill, and at home I will get up and make some chamomile tea with milk and honey, watch some TV, and go back to sleep. But in a tent with nothing but blackness and the snoring coming from the tent next door I couldn't fall back on my strategies. I thought I would tip toe to my truck and get something to read. I found Candance's flashlight and reached for my truck key in my jeans. No key. I checked all the places, in my sports bra, in my fleece vest, still no key. Okay, I thought, don't panic. I unzippered the tent and retraced my steps on the grass, from Candace's car to the truck where I got my bedding, again and again. Back to the ladies' room, no key on the ground or floor. Back in the tent, felt all around the edge, no key. I heard Matt's voice saying, don't lose this key, it cost $80 to replace because of the chip inside, yada, yada, yada. What the &*%$ was I going to do? Searched again on the grass, praying to Yahweh, Mother Mary, all the Saints and Martyrs, and High Powers. No key. I couldn't wake up Candance as she had no sleep the night before worrying about her friend Susan who didn't show up as planned with the air mattresses. I didn't mind sleeping on the ground but that was problematic for Candace. Okay, I said, I might as well lie down and hypnotize myself back to sleep and figure out what to do in the morning. Last time I checked the time it was 6 am on Candace's cell phone. At 7 I woke up and no Candace. I jumped up and found Candace outside. Candace!! I said. I lost my keys to the truck and trailer!! Okay, she said in a calm and steady voice, let's look. She calmly opened the door to her car, reached in and pulled out my keys. What relief! Let's go for a ride and find some coffee she says. We drove away from Hemlock, looking for a coffee shope where they might have some coffee stronger than brown water. I could have used something even stronger after the night I had. No coffee shops. We turned around to go back to the gas station by the fairgrounds and bought something that resembled coffee before it was diluted. Back in the car and I find myself saying, Candace, can you take me somewhere where I can be sick? She says go in the gas station ladies room. I just make it and thankfully no one is in there. I am sick for ten minutes. Nervous exhaustion? I am in bad shape. Candace feels so bad and takes me back to the fairgrounds. We sit at the picnic table in the glorious fresh air and sunshine. She wants me to lie down in the tent but I say no, I would rather stay in the sun. We chat for a while then suddenly a little car zooms up and my favorite Tulip is marching across the grass. I embrace my dear friend Kimmie who has come from Ontario to help me for the day. I don't want to tell her how sick I am, and go about pretending that I'm fine. It works and I start to feel better. Funny, all I wanted was more coffee! I wash my face and put make up on and get my booth ready. Kim has some gifts for me, which I am embarrassed to take because she has just turned 40 last week and I didn't even know it! I give her some cash for her birthday, which she appreciates because she had to rent a car to come to the show as drug dealers stole her van and burned it up back home! The people start to come and I am feeling better and better. People are stroking the beautiful bulky handspun that Candace spun from my Mother Fiber, and a few skeins are sold to ladies who want to copy the scarf I am knitting. The day goes on and business is slower than Saturday, but still good. Most of the cheap commercial yarn is gone from the booth across from me, so they are less crowded. Funny - I just watch and wonder at all the women in line with armfulls of that crap. Sorry, but once you have knitted with homegrown handspun you just go back to the commercial stuff. It has no body or hand to it.