It wasn't our scene.
We huddeled together for warmth because the temperature was about 40 degrees and windy. It was so cold that you could see your breath. So cold that we we borrowed sweaters to wear from people we didn't know.
Our table wasn't set up how we had hoped. It was so windy that everything kept falling over. The table cloth was whipping in the wind. The necklaces were getting tangled. We had a nice cupboard to display our little signs. But, the wind would have knocked that baby over.
At about 9:30 am, I looked over my shoulder to see this.
The llama's were our first big indication that this wasn't our scene.
Our table was set up in front of a speaker blasting Finnish music. Loud. Proud. Foreign. Loud.
Sarah and I were a foot away from one another, shouting, and we still couldn't hear each other.
I eventually moved the speaker.
Only to later find that a boy with his accordian was coming to play. He sat right next to me. If I wanted to (and oh did I ever) I could have reached over and knocked him to the ground. The microphone he was using coupled by the speaker directly behind us. Well, let's just say that ampliphied accordian music wasn't what I imagined for the show.
(And we weren't on our cell phones all day. Sarah was just making a video of the boy singing too.)
It just wasn't our scene.
It was a show with 10 craft vendors and the rest were yardsalers selling non-spraypaint enhancable junky junk. We were table #29...and there were many more after us.
Not our scene.