To market, to market.

Two weeks ago I braved the local farmer's market for the first time.
.

.

.

.

And it was a hot mess :-P

I'll Start at the beginning.

A long time ago, in a land far, far away, lived a fair maiden who charmed the world with her beautiful laces and creations. Much prosperity was promised to the princess, if she would only come with her wares, to the market to sell on Mother's day weekend. "It's the best weekend of all!!!" enticed the rulers of the market square. "Subjects from all the lands come to be merry and spend their gold on fine goods such as yours!"

Enthralled by the prospects, the maiden spent many hours making lace, preparing fine displays, purchasing tables, linens, and CPAI-84 regulation flame retardant canopies (not so easy a task as you might think! Only one merchant in the entire KINGDOM could provide her with such a rare and unusual item. Sidewalls had to be sent for, from far distant lands!).

For weeks, she slaved over her Cricut electronic scrapbooking cutter, making tags and cards to compliment her adornments. She monogrammed, personalized, and labeled all of the fine packaging....and with the help of her Fairy Godmother, and her prince charming, the wagons were loaded and everything was finally readied for her to depart.

Awakening at dawn on that fateful day, the maiden and her fairy godmother set off for the town square. The sun shone like glory from heaven itself! This day would be a dream come true! She just knew it! But with as the miles were traveled, the dark doom beset them. The clouds swirled with malice as they neared. Working fiercely, the tables were set and the tent was tied down with 25lbs per leg, according to the laws of the land. As the evil weather taunted them with with a sad slow drizzle, the intrepid maiden and her companion huddled in the cold and waited.

The tower bell tolled.

Another hour passed. And another, each marked solemnly by the tower's deep haunting chime.

A few small items were sold before the deepening clouds engulfed them. Villagers scattered as suddenly, hail and torrential rain poured down! Like pieces of shattered dreams, it fell on her carefully prepared displays. The wind, angry and destructive, tore things from her grasp, leaving her treasured creations soggy and in danger of staining from the wet ink on her fine parchment cards. In it's final attempt to destroy her, the wind grasped her leaking canopy and wrenched it's bars with such force that it bent the structure of her only shelter in the tempest.

Wet and bedraggled, and surrounded by wilting lace, she conceded her defeat. Packing away her treasures, as quickly and carefully as possible, the pair of women made their way back to their small village and home.

The young, beautiful, intelligent maiden had lost her glass slipper that day.

But do not fear, fine gentlefolk.....

for she will return tomorrow to that fateful market square to seek her glory again! Her wagon is readied, her heart (and tent) will be strongly fastened and prepared for the dangers and perils that await.

To be continued.......

this is a (mostly) true story. names have been changed to protect the innocent. displays and EZ-up canopy products were harmed in the making of this tale.