The Homer Hogstravaganza was a first and probably not the last for me! Homer is a small town of about 1,800 people in southwest Michigan. I first heard about it while glancing through the Salesman - a free weekly "newspaper" of sorts - and the words "craft show" caught my eye. Now I had been to Homer once, back in the day before kids and we lived in Jackson. Our weekend fun activity usually involved hopping on our bikes with a picnic lunch and riding to some small out-of-the-way town. Homer happened to be our destination on one such weekend. All I remember about it was the nice cement basketball court I took a nap on. Anyways, I'd been accumulating quite a few crafty things in the barn without an outlet and also making baby headbands, which seem to be all the rage these days. So I bought a bunch of supplies, paid my $5 booth fee, that's right - $5 - and got to work. Originally the fee was $10, but the craft show commander and chief had to be fair since the farmer's market was only charging $5. Laura came out to help and good thing too, since I quickly started to lose my voice! Our little headband model, Tori, arrived around noon and then sales skyrocketed. Well, she helped anyway. But then there was a lull in sales, since baby model fell fast asleep under the table. When the outhouse races, hog calling contests, mini tractor pulls,watermelon tosses, parade, and Stand Strength Team show were over, it seemed our business was as well. We began to pack up. But my partner in crime, or crafts, did my dirty work and walked up and down the main street hawking our wares. In a matter of 10 minutes she sold a whole load of headbands. People who didn't even know they needed one, were buying them. For instance, the woman who said she thought huge flowers on babies were obnoxious got talked into a headband with a dainty little flower. After she forked over the money she exclaimed, "I don't even know anyone who would wear this!" Laura was born for sales. We need to come up with a better set up system though as any little gust of wind sent us into a tizzy trying to hold everything in place. One of my poor windows succumbed to the wind and now sits cracked and waiting for it's life sentence in the dump. See you next year, Homer!