HOW DID IT GO? It Went Like This: *singing* “Some people you know they say they can’t believe, Jamaica we got a bobsled team!”
Ahem. Okay- so THE ICE DYING… how’d it all shake out? Y’all will remember since the summer I’ve been doing batch after batch of ice dying to have ready to sell at our neighborhood craft fair. I talked about it here and here and here and here and (my god I wrote a lot about this) here .
The craft fair was last weekend and it was, on the scarves, a ROUSING success.
The scarves… 4 to 6 in each color batch
I love that painting… it looks like I have a creativity thought bubble every time I brush my teeth. Here is what the pashminas look like on- this is the one I kept.
I ended up making just under $200 on the scarves, and they went like hotcakes, I think, in part because I priced them to move: $12ea or 2 for $20. I also modeled one all night long, but I’m less sure that contributed to the sales… I was in the pashmina above and shorts, after all. A look right out of the Vogue lookbook it ain’t. I actually have 4 more scarves on order to do another batch for Christmas gifts… because the ones I made for this event are ALL gone!
The girls also did a rousing sale in ornaments, and cleared $65 and $66 ea.
And it being a sip and shop (wine and craft fair) there was lots of tipsy trading at the end of the show amongst the adult vendors so we now have other ornaments and purses and hats… as well as a deer skull adorned with rhinestone brooches which is INSANITY but a small part of me loves. My folks took the toddler home, who was driving me to distraction trying to manage a show and a candied up toddler… and my husband was there to hang out. The older girls were good about managing the table and hanging out.
(For all of yall who came for just the discussion on ice dying… you can stop here)
I mention all of this because… well lets put it this way. You know when you drink too much at a party, but there is someone who drank more so you don’t feel so bad about yourself? Yeah… I didn’t have that other person this time. I drank too much. I was, I think, the most
tipsy drunk person there. I am, thoroughly, not proud of myself. Y’all who know my family history know drinking is a sensitive subject for me. And my biggest fear is falling into the trap that has caught and strangled so many of my family… ALCOHOLISM is always capitalized in my personal mind-speak, because of the weight and fear attached to it.
And I mean Jesus Christ, right? It’s not like I set out to drink too much, not like I like being drunk- I in fact HATE it! Can’t be an alcoholic if you hate being drunk, right? RIGHT? (I’m honestly asking here though…) But there I was, because I forgot to eat anything before the show and then didn’t drink mindfully and take that into consideration. Wee! This is fun, we’re all selling stuff and drinking wine! I like all these people! Sure I’ll have another glass!
The show was 5-8 (which means I was there at 4:15 to set up) and wine without dinner… crap. It’s a trap that has caught me before. I’m not proud of that time either, honestly. And while it feels excuse-y, I actually do think I’m starting to metabolize wine differently these past couple of years. (Didn’t stop me from having a very small regular sized bottle of red wine all by myself when we had friends over the weekend before though… haha! It’s funny until the exact moment it isn’t!)
You’re an adult. Adults are allowed to cut loose. You didn’t drive. Your children were in no danger. Everyone makes mistakes… these are all things I’ve told myself… like on Saturday at 3 am when I awoke in a sweaty and slightly nauseous panic over the whole thing. On Sunday when the same thing happened. During the day randomly when I am working. But… well. Ashamed is the word that resonates more truly. I am ASHAMED of myself for not controlling me better. Why put it here then? Because if democracy dies in darkness, then hopefully shame dies in sunlight. All I know is my family’s history with alcoholism/drinking was a SECRET and never to be told, always to be hidden. And maybe, just maybe- if I don’t handle it the same way I won’t turn out the same way. One can hope. I can hope.
And lest I be painting too harsh of a picture and because I am so uncomfortable in putting this out here at all please indulge me for adding this- I didn’t get in fights or arguments. I didn’t puke in anyone’s flowerbed. (or anywhere) I didn’t fall down or drop anything. But I was probably too loud and too much. My uncle ribbed me for slurring my words. I was TOO effuse. Some of it… is a little foggy now. And some of it I straight up don’t remember.
But I do know I don’t want to be a drunk Mom.
I don’t want the neighbors to be talking about me.
I don’t want to be an embarrassment to my husband.
I don’t want… any of that. They weigh on me like actual physical weights.
And… I wish it had all happened differently. And so… I kinda ruined my own time, you know? And that sucks. Because I don’t really get out much… and I’d really, really been looking forward to that event. And I ruined it for myself.
But. Being hard on myself, while like, my total default setting, isn’t helping, it never has. I’m working on personal forgiveness over here. Trying to be gentle with myself and through the process learning that I am not intrinsically gentle in much in my life. So I have done some meditating. And research. And thought a lot about it all this week.
So like, Ice Dying- I can HIGHLY recommend. But Vice Dying or even Vice Crying… I recommend them way, way less. Gonna like, try to steer clear of all that in the future. Understatement of the fucking year right there…