Chickenlips Knitting

For the past few weeks, I've been wondering if the blog as we know it has run its course. I mean, widely read blogs--even the ones that aren't about knitting!--still have their audience and that's great. And not that I plan to stop blogging. Looking back over my archives, I see that 2010 marks the fourth year of this little blog, and that gives me pause to say "wow". Four years. That's enough time for certain former Presidents of the United States to start two wars, destroy the environment and screw millions out of their money and jobs! But I digress. Now that so many of us are on Facebook, I just think that for me, blogging might seem a little repetitive. The flip side, though, is that a blog gives me more space to expound on whatever may happen to be on my mind, however random and/or silly it may be.



What's on my mind today is fiber festival season. This in itself is not a silly thing at all. On Saturday, I had a lovely time at the Newport Spin-in. There were loads of people there, and I had the best sales I've ever had at a single day fiber event. I couldn't be happier. I also got to chat with people who coordinate other fiber events, and it was an ego shot to know that Stitchjones is welcomed and sought after at these events. So, it's all good. The only problem I have is my own particular personality and temperament, when it comes to selling in public.



I think I do have some sales skills and abilities. After all, 14 years ago I was a representative for the largest cosmetics company in the United States, and their training program gave me people skills and confidence I have carried to other areas of my life. I genuinely enjoy interacting with people. The only thing is that I have always been a sensitive person, something my mother always chastised me for (as if I could change it), and my little feelings are easily hurt. I admit it, it's very hard for me to accept criticism, even when it's not really intended to hurt me.


For example, last year at a large fiber festival, a woman was browsing in my booth and she had a rather bratty opinionated daughter of about 10. The woman was just shopping like people do, she'd pick something up and look at it, then look at something else. To everything the mom picked up, the kid would say "Yuck. Ecch. Ick." OK, sure, she's a kid, and at the age where kids are establishing their personalities as separate from their parents. But I was getting kind of pissed off! Especially since the mother didn't seem to think there was anything rude about her child's behavior. As the fiber artist, however, I didn't particularly enjoy having to sit there with a smile on my face while someone was dissing my work! I certainly am not unrealistic and I would never expect everyone to like what I do. However, it took considerable restraint not to ask the girl how she would feel if I looked at something she painted and went "Yuck. Ecch. Ick." Most of that, though, is my attitude toward children in general--not my friends' kids, because they're all awesome!--I'm just trying to say that now that I've raised my own, I have little patience with strangers' kids. Please don't hate me.


I should add that this kind of outspoken-ness extends to certain adults. 99.99999% of my customers, both retail and wholesale, are absolutely wonderful. Occasionally, though, I get one who goes through my yarn like she's at a rummage sale (and I'm talking about a wholesale customer who, darn it anyhow, I just can't seem to get around to visiting very often). Throws offending skeins aside with, "Too dark." "I don't like that." It really is kind of funny, in a less-is-more kind of way.


I've gone over all that I've written and asked myself the obvious question: "Gee whiz, Sharon, you're really digging deep to find something to bitch about!" Well, yes and no. It is a minor, but nonetheless real, part of the business I'm in that I had no prior knowledge of. I just ask in my prayers for the ability to take that sort of thing in stride and with grace. And the bottom line is that the benefits of doing shows and festivals far outweigh the hassles.

Well, dear blog audience, thank you for reading my little rant. I certainly can't write stuff like that on Facebook, not that I would want to, and now you know a tiny tidbit of what's in my heart of hearts. I don't want to always be all knitting, yarn, pretty colors and everything's hunky dory--but so far, 2010 on its worst day feels better than 2009 on its best day!