Sunday, September 26, 2010


Hello, friends.
We're back from the Halloween and Vine show, and we are tarred. That's "tired" with a southern accent, which I slip into sometimes when I'm. . .tarred.
Here's our website, which I'll be updating in the next few days with some new Halloween pieces.
And here's where you'll find us on etsy.

We set out on Thursday for Petaluma, California with our newly built display and several tubs full of Halloween art, all stuffed into a Toyota Prius borrowed from Jo's mom. We tried to make Tom Tom understand that we wanted to follow 101 all the way down the coast to the show, but he was insistent that we take the interstate. We eventually just ignored him, and we're glad that we did. We got to wind our way through the redwood forest and see oddities like the one log log house and a giant depiction of Paul Bunyan and his anatomically correct ox.
The show was amazing, and no one could believe that it was our first. I met so many incredible people that I had to implore mental games to try and remember all their names, an exercise I'm not particularly good at. I can name most classic rock songs in the first few notes, and my brother and I used to play a game where we would see who could rattle off a synopsis of a Brady Bunch episode the quickest as the opening scene began. . . but names are hard for me. There is a leaky cavity in my head where they are supposed to get stored, but it seems to be filled with information about how Greg will redecorate the den into a groovy pad once Mr. Brady moves all of his architecture crap out of the way of the plot. But I digress. I met a lot of talented and friendly people. That's what I'm trying to get at.

We headed out after the show, planning to find a hotel along the way when my eyes gave out, but they never did. I just jogged around parking lots once in a while to get my blood pumping again and push through 12 hours of what is basically a very boring video game about keeping a car within the lines and within a limited range of speed. Those 12 hours got us back to Jo's mom's house, but it was too early to show up, so we parked at a lookout next to the beach and slept for a while in the car. I woke up to Jo saying, "It's raining on my face. Turn on the car, I need to get the window up."

After switching back to our trusty but quirky '86 Volvo wagon, we knocked out the last 1 1/2 hours to our new house in Sherwood, glad that we had done the show, but relieved to get back to our own bed. Not even Greg's groovy pad can compete with the comforts of our own home.


No comments: