It’s a monday and I’m five thousand words behind. All weekend was consumed with plants, with the flea and my differing role as a horticultural shopkeep rather than a curmudgeonly writer.
First the good: I sold 40% of my stock. My succulents were very popular. I sold almost every one of them. I spoke with a great many people and managed to headbutt no one. Moreover, I met the woman who will be taking my jewelry on consignment, Tasha James, who runs the Susquehanna Art Museum’s shop. I also spoke with a woman from an organic soil company who was impressed enough with my plants to want to interview me for her own blog, something to which I’m looking forward greatly.
She didn’t come on lightly, asking me about what and how I grew with such terminology that let me know she knew what she was talking about. I think it was the phrase “growing media” (rather than the more common “dirt” which is actually a nebulous and nearly meaningless word) that told me I had to actually use all the plant growing knowledge I’ve supposedly been accumulating. I’m glad I passed the test with my two parts coir, two parts sand, one part finished compost succulent growing mix.
It was a long day, but fairly productive. I met a lot of people and put my plant selling name out (Agricultural Alchemy). Setting up and tearing down my booth was surprisingly easy, my previous years as a glorified roady for the radio station finally paying off in some semi-meaningful way. At least none of my plants required me to erect and manually tune a forty foot aerial.
The not so good: I only sold 40% of my stock. This was my first real sale so I didn’t know what to expect, but I can’t help but feel a little disappointed that nothing other than succulents sold. I know they’re neat, I wouldn’t grow them if I didn’t like them, but I also like geraniums and spider plants, the two other types of plants I brought along. I had a few people look at them, and several people came to pet them, but no one bought any. Not the end of the world, but had I known they’d all be coming back with me I’d have left them at home and had less to carry, put less stress on the plants.
The downright terrible: I spent most of friday preparing for the sale, all of saturday doing the sale, and a good bit of sunday recuperating from it. I didn’t put fingers to keyboard to do more than transcribe my sales notes and plan for the future of my miniature business. Time, as it does, continued forward, and with it the expected word count for NaNoWriMo. So here I am on monday, still tired and a bit frayed from being dunked in a thousand thick crowd of shoppers, not so much under the gun for my novel as sitting in the barrel with the hammer cocked.
It may seem melodramatic, but I have a lot wrapped up in finishing the story on time. I have a great fear that should I allow myself to “finish later” it’ll never happen. Five-thousand words isn’t so much, but the word quota grows by 1,667 a day and I’ve only a week left to hit fifty-thousand. Being behind now, regardless of the amount by which, is akin to coming up second ten feet from the finish.
So, of course, I take time from writing Life in a Glass House to write about writing it. Makes sense.
All in all, it was a good weekend. I was happy to see so many people excited about plants and about growing. Such enthusiasm makes me think that there’s hope for Harrisburg to become a green city and that perhaps my efforts as a grower have aided that.
I can catch up on writing. I can sell, keep, or give away the unpopular (though very handsome, I think) plants. What I couldn’t do any other time is foster a delight in flora. Having done that, I count this weekend a great success.