Friday, September 09, 2011

Craft Show Season

Both of us need to push our minutes today if we're going to get our craft displays and craft items packed before we go to bed tonight.  It's craft show season, and tomorrow morning we're hopping on board the craft show wagon.

Hubby will be selling his carved Wood Spirit walking sticks, wooden personalized key chains, and personalized hammers. He scroll-saws names in wooden hammer handles. They are way cool and make neat gifts for both men and women.   I'll be selling one style of the pop-tab bracelets that I weave together with metallic cord.  My bracelets are fun, funky, and eco-friendly, and I have an absolute blast making them.

This is exactly what I mean when I try to explain to people what we do with our retirement.  For some reason, my generation feels it must work until the coffin is nailed shut.  My generation forgets that retirement is the time to 'let go' and 'get going.'  For over 40 years, I sat behind a desk, wishing for the day when I would be at home, able to do any one of a thousand things. Thank you, Great Spirit, for giving me this time to find the talents you put inside me when I was still in mommy's tummy. 

The fact that we are given a life in the first place is an astonishing miracle.  Scientists estimate the probability of our being born at about one in 400 trillion.  A Buddhist version of this probability is this:  Imagine there was one life preserver thrown somewhere in some ocean, with exactly one turtle in all of these oceans, swimming underwater somewhere.  The probability that we were born is the same as that turtle sticking its head out of the water--into the middle of that life preserver....on one try.

Scientists take it another step.  The total area of oceans in the world is 131.6 million square miles.  The area inside the life preserver is about 0.5 square meter.  Then the probability of Mr. Turtle sticking his head out of that life preserver is simply the area inside the life preserver divided by the total area of all oceans, or about 1 in 700 trillion.

Migod, people, if we are THAT fortunate to be here, just think how lucky we are to reach retirement age.  We came full circle, we're back in kindergarten, and it's time to play and make things!

We both need to have business cards available on our craft table with our names and phone numbers, so today that's my project.  Instead of having them made professionally, I'll make my own.  They won't be fancy, but then again, I'm not fancy.  The weather is forecast to be autumn gorgeous this weekend, so this will be a perfect chance for us to clean out our lungs with crisp clean air and watch the people walking the festival grounds.

People-watching can be inspirational.  It reminds us how unique each of us is.  From making my bracelets, I've learned that there is no valid formula to the sizes of our wrists and hands.  What will fit my hand, may not fit the next gal's.  Some small women have big hands, and some sturdy women have small hands.  Hands are hands.

In earlier times, Grecian soldiers wore bands of leather, decorated with gold, silver, and other gemstones, on their forearms.  They were called Bracels, from the Latin word for arm, 'Brachium.'  The Grecian women thought that these accessories would look nice on them, so they started wearing smaller versions of these bands, called 'Bracel-ets.' 

Bracelets can be made out of just about any material, and mine are a perfect example of that.  The gypsy in me loves jewelry, so it comes as no surprise that my craft show table will feature baskets of them.

Since I retired in 2006, I have gotten to know my gypsy self like never before.  My secret?  It's the quiet time spent away from the commotion......the only time our petals unfold and our blossom opens up so the whole world can see who we really are.