Fowl Festival

"Fowl Festival" meaning "bird" fowl, as in chickens, not foul as in "rank". The last two days were spent with the chicken shirts at the Arts Festival. I was curious to see how the fowl ladies and gents would do at their first outing with real purchasing people. It was quite entertaining watching everyone pass by and seeing their reactions to the shirts. I wanted to hide a video camera to capture the expressions, but we were quite a simplistic tent--no good hiding spots. Some people read the shirts, then their eyes opened wide with shock. Others read, then quickly averted their vision. Some even said things like, "Oh, my!", or, "Is that what I think it says?". So, there were some offended by the designs. Then, there were the festival-goers who were amused. They would laugh, sometimes loudly and juicily. Some people came back to the tent later to give me a new punny idea or two--which I jotted down in my idea book. And at this point in the blog, I'd like to bring the lights down low, and cue the soft music...Next, I'd like to take the opportunity to give a shout out to all the Arts Festival people out there (you know who you are) who were encouraging and supportive--thank you, thank you--you're all cluckin' awesome. I sold about a third of my shirts, half of the bags and a few cards here and there. I traded a shirt for some super cool glass earrings--thanks to Jodie, and one for a crocheted headband and plum jam--thanks to Katherine. delightful! It was a good experience overall. However, I must say that I'm a very bad salesman. I am trying to get my ETSY account open this week, I...will...try...to...be...entrepreneurial-ly...must...try...

And here are a few pictures:

Healthy Festival Food

thanks to my right-hand lady, Ashli, for all her help. 

I'm the "Mother-Cluckin"!

deep fried kit kat...disgusting

I was jealous of that man's
recliner chair in the background.

we had a fancy/classy egg-carton cash register

people stood in front of all these signs
and asked what my prices were.

"What does "fowl" mean?" I overhear
 a perplexed lady ask her husband.

There were fun questions, like the one from
the Japenese tourist who asked Brian
why the chicken had teeth.

My sweet, sweet luvah and my happy head in the bottom-corner.