April 2024

A crazy busy month with another eclipse trip, three very long drives, lots of jewelry making, and homeowner chores.

Folks might wonder why I don’t blog as often as I used to. It’s easy: my life is keeping me very busy.

That said, this post, which is long overdue, will give you an idea of what I’ve been up to and why I haven’t been blogging as regularly.

The Maintenance Saga, Resolved

My Great Loop Adventure

If you don’t already know it, I’ve got another blog where I go into details on my Great Loop trip, which began back in October 2022. It’s called My Great Loop Adventure and I’ve been updating it a bit more frequently than this one. So if you’re wondering what all this boat talk is about, you might want to check out that blog. In it, you’ll also find links to YouTube videos from my trip.

In my last blog post, I whined about having to deal with boat maintenance issues — mainly, getting my boat to a reliable shop that could provide the services I needed when I needed them.

Those issues were pretty much taken care of when I arrived at Eastern Bay/Seven Seas Yacht Services. These are actually two different companies owned by the same folks in the same location. I get them confused. One does the maintenance and one provides marina slips and dry storage. In any case, these folks are very good to me. They worked within my schedule and, on Thursday, April 4, they hauled my boat out of the water for me. While the owner, who was driving the TravelLift at the time, was probably disappointed that my boat didn’t need its bottom painted, I was thrilled. Honestly, the bottom was so clean that I didn’t even think it needed the power washing I got for it. I have a feeling that doing 12-15 knots for hours on end in choppy salt water has its own cleaning benefits.

That doesn’t mean nothing needed to be done. The prop zinc, which I’d had replaced in Florida by a diver, was gone. The other zincs needed replacement. And I still needed regular engine maintenance. All that would wait, though.

They moved the boat into one of their yards and parked it on blocks for a month.

On the Hard
Do It Now on the hard on Kent Island. I can’t see any reason to leave a boat in the water for more than a month if it has to come out of the water anyway.

The Eclipse Trip

Meanwhile, I’d already packed everything on the boat that I no longer wanted on the boat, along with some stuff I’d need for the month. My friend Jason — you may remember him from my “Cruising with a Companion” post (as well as other posts in My Great Loop Adventure blog) — came with his pickup and we loaded everything on board. I had a lot of stuff, including my Lectric bike in a box — more on that in a moment. It’s pretty amazing that I’d had so much stuff on the boat. Jason said it floated higher out of the water with all that stuff off-loaded.

After a great sushi dinner on Kent Island, we went back to his boat — he’s a liveaboard in Washington DC — for the night. The next morning, bright and early, we added his luggage to the truck and headed out on the first leg of a road trip together: to Texas to see the total solar eclipse.

This would be the second time I traveled to see a total eclipse of the sun; the first was back in 2017 and I blogged about it in some detail. I saw that one in a National Forest in Oregon. This one would be on a friend’s 60 acres in Texas, just south of Dallas. My friend Rick, who also worked with me as a cherry drying pilot before I retired, happened to live right on the eclipse path. He was having a party and I was invited.

The drive was long and boring, mostly because the main goal was to cover a lot of miles and get to Rick’s place the day before the eclipse. We took turns driving, each getting about 3 hours or 230 miles in before we’d stop for gas, bathroom breaks, lunch, or the night. The highlight might have been stopping at the largest gas station in the country, a Buc-ees outside of Knoxville, TN featuring a 75,000 square foot convenience store, 120 fueling positions, and 20 EV charging stations.

Yeah. That was the highlight. It gives you an idea of just how dull the drive was.

Eclipse Sign
We started seeing these signs when we were still hundreds of miles from Rick’s place.

We wound up going a lot farther than expected on Saturday, mostly because the closer we got to the eclipse zone of totality, the more the motels started price gouging overnighters. When we couldn’t find a motel that allowed dogs for under $130/night and were just 200 miles from Rick’s place, we decided to just finish the drive.

(Now you might think that I’m being cheap here and I’ll agree that I am. But when I’m in drive mode for a long trip, I don’t like to pay a lot of money for lodging. After all, I’m spending about 10 hours in the room and not doing much more than sleeping and possibly showering. My spending limit is usually about $100/night, which is sometimes difficult when you travel with dogs and some motels want to hit you up for $20 or more per dog.)

Rick was happy to see us early, although we didn’t get in until right around sunset. We set up Jason’s rooftop camper and climbed in for the night. It was cozy.

At Rick’s

I spent the next day working on videos for my YouTube channel. Rick’s home is also his place of business and there was a nice employee lounge where I could get things done. That was after Rick showed us around town and took us to the airport to see his airplanes, one of which he’d sold to a mutual friend in Wenatchee. We had a great breakfast at a local restaurant and went back to Rick’s place. Jason went for a run while I worked. Then we drove around Rick’s property in a golf cart.

Sometime in the afternoon, Rick told us he wasn’t feeling well and he went in for a rest. His grandson, just 21 years old, offered to take us for a helicopter ride. The catch: he wasn’t actually a pilot yet and needed a pilot on board to be the PIC. So, for the first time in nearly a year, I climbed into the front seat of an R44 with a set of controls in front of me. Jason climbed into a back seat for his first helicopter ride. Rick’s grandson — and I can’t remember his name! — did all the flying, showing us around a flat Texas landscape dotted with ranches, residential neighborhoods, and small industrial complexes. The skylines of Dallas and Fort Worth were off in the distance.

Helicopter Ride
Jason took this photo from his seat in the back of the helicopter. I think he enjoyed this first flight, but I wish he could have sat up front.

Jason and I ate some of the food we’d brought along from our boats for dinner.

Eclipse Day

The next day was Eclipse Day. I took a shower while Jason put away his truck tent. We went into town for coffee and breakfast and to top off the truck with fuel.

Fireplace Pups
My pups found a comfy place to sit inside an outdoor fireplace — before we pulled all those cushions out for the outdoor furniture.

Back at Rick’s place, things started hopping around 8 AM. Rick’s employees, family members, and friends started showing up. Outdoor furniture was moved around, grills were set up, and the employee lounge was filled with food. There had to be at least 40 people there. The only one not around was Rick; he was feeling very ill and stayed in all day.

Rick’s son Chad pulled the helicopter out of the hangar. I worked as the loader for passenger rides. But soon he needed to take a break for fuel and he headed off.

Meanwhile, the weather had been overcast all morning. It wasn’t a surprise; the forecast made it seems as if we had a less than 50% chance of seeing the eclipse at all.

Sure enough, as the eclipse began to happen — the disc of the moon began blocking the disc of the sun — we only caught glimpses through our eclipse glasses as the clouds wizzed past overhead. We could clearly see most of the sky and it did not look good for us. But by the time the moon was half blocking the sun, the sky miraculously cleared. I don’t even know where the clouds went! One minute they were there and the next they were gone.

Total Eclipse
My view, through a 300mm Nikon lens, of the total eclipse.

We ate and talked and took photos. Music played. And then everything got dark and everyone settled down to watch.

This was my second total solar eclipse. I don’t know if it’s because it was the second or if it’s because someone left the music playing loudly or if its because I wasn’t experiencing it in the beauty of a national forest in Oregon after having camped out in my own camper, but it wasn’t quite as special as the first one. Don’t get me wrong — it was still amazing and I did not regret going through everything I had to experience it. But the first one seemed darker and more magical.

And I can’t say this enough: If you’ve never seen a total solar eclipse along the path of totality, you’re really missing out.

We watched intently until the diamond ring appeared on the other side. There were cheers. And as the landscape around us brightened, everything went back to normal, even though the sun was still mostly covered by the moon and the entire event would not be over for more than an hour.

The helicopter rides started again with Rick’s other son doing the loading. They didn’t last long. Chad claimed there was a power issue on the helicopter and decided (wisely) to stop the rides until it could be checked. The symptoms sounded like a sticky value, but it could also have simply been his attempt to fly a fully loaded helicopter with full tanks of fuel on a 90°F day.

We ate some more and started packing up our stuff. It was just past midday and although so many media outlets — and temporary road signs — warned of high traffic that day, we decided to head out anyway. Rick’s wife assured us that Rick’s condition was not something to be concerned about. She made sure we had lots of leftovers, including her excellent salsa, to bring with us.

We were back on the road, heading northwest toward my home in Washington, at about 2 PM.

The Lectric Bike Saga

I need to take a break in the narrative here to talk about my Lectric bike. I’d bought the bike to replace my MATE bike back in September. It was supposed to be lighter and it was definitely simpler and cheaper. But otherwise it was remarkably like the MATE. This is what happens when your Danish design is shipped to China for manufacture: the design is stolen and every foldable electric bike is pretty much the same damn bike.

This one did not have gears or a good suspension, but it did have fatter tires. I think it weighed the same as the MATE, which I sold to a sales guy at Pocket Yacht for $150. (It had issues, but it still ran and the battery still charged.)

The problem I’d discovered with my new bike was that if the pedal assist was turned on — which it usually is — and I was pushing the bike, say across a street, the pedals would turn on their own. That would engage the power assist and the bike would try to take off. If the power level was set to 1, I could easily hold it. But if it was set to 2 or 3, I could not. This had caused me to drop the bike with my pups in a basket on back on one occasion and had caused me to fall on the bike, hurting my knee, on another.

My old bike had never done this. Obviously, there was something wrong with this bike’s computer or something else. I wrote an email to Lectric with the subject line “Your Bikes are Dangerous” and detailed what was happening, requesting that they send me an updated computer if/when the problem was resolved.

They wrote back and offered to send me a new bike.

I’m not an idiot. I said yes.

And that started the process of getting the old bike back to them. You see, I was in Carolina Beach, NC when all this came down and I needed the bike as ground transportation until I took my break for the eclipse and trip home. I didn’t have the original box so they needed to send me one. Then I needed to get the bike in the box, put a label on the box, and get the box into the hands of FedEx.

And that’s where the comedy of errors began.

I told them to ship the box to Jason, since he’d be picking me up at the boat. They shipped the box to the marina where they’d originally shipped the bike. That would have been okay if I’d known I was going there, but I did not. So they had to ship out a second box, this time to Jason. Keep in mind that these boxes are not small.

Boxed Bike
Here is one of the pictures I sent to prove that I’d used their packing material properly to pack the bike.

When Jason joined me at the marina — which, by the way, still had the box Lectric had sent there — I packed up the bike. I looked for the label in my email and saw that they required me to take photographs of the way I’d packed it before they would send a label. We had no time for that. So we threw the bike into the back of Jason’s truck and drove it all the way to Texas with us.

At Rick’s place, we opened the box and took the pictures. I sent the pictures. The next day, I got a FedEx label that had the marina as the return address. I was told FedEx would pick it up. Thinking FedEx would go to the marina, I didn’t give Rick the label for printing but pointed out the error. The weekend came and went with no answer. We left the bike at Rick’s; I’d email him the label.

On Tuesday, I was told that the label I had was okay as it was and that FedEx would pick it up at Rick’s on Wednesday. But I didn’t get that message until Wednesday — I was on the next leg of the trip. By the time Rick got the label, the bike had already been picked up.

How could that be? It didn’t have an unused label on it.

But somehow FedEx used the existing label. And instead of sending it back to Lectric in Arizona, they sent it back to Jason’s place in DC, where it was delivered to the marina office.

After more scrambling to get a new label, the bike was finally shipped from DC to AZ. By that time, I was already home and the clock was ticking for getting the new bike before I had to get on my way again. It wasn’t until the day we left my Washington home that they had inspected the returned bike and were ready to send out the replacement. I had them send it to the marina where my boat was, which was the same marina I’d received the original bike and the same marina they’d sent the original return box.

Spoiler alert: It arrived at that marina before I left with the boat in May.

Texas to Washington

The drive from Texas to Washington state was long.

We got to Vernon, TX the first night and stayed in a crappy motel where our next door neighbor played loud music until late at night. I had to call the office twice; the second time, at 11:30 PM, I suggested that the clerk call the police, hinting that if she didn’t, I would. That did the trick.

On Tuesday, we got as far as Page, AZ. I’m pretty sure Jason worked from the car that day, doing meetings and working on his laptop while I drove. We stopped in Albuquerque, NM for lunch at a Mexican place that was authentic and a little spicy. (Jason liked it a lot more than I did.) Our route then took us through the Navajo and Hopi nations, which I’d spent a bit of time in when I lived in Arizona. I was very sad to see that the shop where I’d bough my kachinas had been converted into a coffee shop.

Marble Canyon Sunset
We stopped just before sunset at the overlook on Route 89 just outside Page, AZ. Marble Canyon and the Colorado River are down there somewhere.

With the time change, Jason was starting work very early in the morning, so he had Zoom meetings at the nice Motel 6 in Page where we’d overnighted while I got us coffee and then went down to Wahweap Marina at Lake Powell to see whether they could accommodate my boat in October. I was assured that they’d have a slip for me and assistance getting the boat launched and retrieved.

One of the folks there remembered me from when I’d wanted to buy a used rental houseboat there years and years ago. I told him I’d shed a husband since then. I was now fully in charge of my life and able to have some fun. Putting my own boat into Lake Powell for a month would be a blast — provided the water level came up a little more. (I’m watching this closely.)

We headed out of Page at around 10 AM and climbed into the mountains of Utah. We stopped at a gas station near a summit so Jason had a good cell signal for another meeting. Then on to Bryce Canyon for a short walk and look down at the hoodoos. Then back in the truck for the drive down to Salt Lake and beyond.

Bryce Canyon
We made a side trip to Bryce Canyon — pretty much the only side trip on the whole journey.

We stopped for fuel in Bountiful and wound up buying what would be dinner at a DQ there. Although I’d been hoping to get to Burley, ID on I-84, we wound up at Tremonton, UT at another Motel 6. If you travel with dogs, Motel 6 is an easy option for a relatively cheap hotel along the way. All Motel 6s allow dogs and they don’t charge extra. The trouble is, they range in quality, and you never really know what you’re getting until you get there. This particular Motel 6 had been an old, family owned motel in excellent condition that had been converted to a Motel 6 franchise. The rooms looked like Motel 6 rooms inside and the quality was generally pretty decent. I’ve been in better and I’ve been in worse.

The next day, we were on the home stretch. After breakfast at a coffee shop, we headed out again with me at the wheel while Jason worked. We covered miles quickly, but it was still a long day. It was around 4 PM when we drove into East Wenatchee. We made a few stops for groceries, Thai takeout, and a handful of other supplies and drove the final 10 miles up to my house.

It was good to be home, but it was very good to be done driving.

Two Weeks at Home

There were three main reasons I’d come home in April:

  • I wanted to remove large items from the boat and stow them in my garage. This included the Honda 2KW generator I’d had on board since buying the boat but had never used. It also included a ton of extra linens and clothes and jewelry making supplies that I simply didn’t need on board.
  • I needed to get my irrigation system up and running for the summer. Yes, I live in Washington State but the entire state isn’t as rainy as Seattle. The entire east side of the Cascade Mountains is high desert with a climate very similar to Flagstaff, AZ. The natural vegetation is sagebrush and bunchgrass; I had planted trees along the road and had a lawn that all needed watering. Every autumn I blow out the system for the winter and every spring I get the system running again and make sure all the drip nozzles are dripping.
  • I needed to make jewelry. I had sold much of my jewelry inventory to a new wholesale client on Bald Head Island and had very little left. I needed to make new inventory and then get some of it in the hands of my Winthrop wholesale client and a gallery in Ellensburg I sell at. I also needed some more inventory of a brighter, seaside nature to sell to new clients along my boat travels.

So that’s pretty much what I did while I was home.

Sonoran Sunset Tibetan Turquoise
Sonoran Sunset Azurite & Malachite
Here are four of the pendants I made while I was home.

Jason worked on weekdays while I mostly worked in my jewelry shop. He also helped me get my irrigation system running smoothly — it was great to have someone better able to climb down the steep areas next to the road to check and change the drips. On weekends, when he was off, he either went to visit friends in Yakima or in the Seattle area or did other things on his own. He spent a lot of time working on his truck in my garage to install some lights in his camper; I think it was a bit of a luxury for him to be able to do that in the shade, off a city street. One day we took the Jeep out, got a personal tour of the Rocky Reach Dam, and explored a mountain road between Wenatchee and Cashmere. I had lunch with my friend Kriss one day and we met up with other friends at their home or for dinner in town on other days. Jason even came with me to the neighborhood coffee gathering once.

Jason and the Cheese
One night, we dined on cheese, crackers, and other goodies in my living room. Great food, great company. What else could a person ask for?

My big disappointment came when I was trying to arrange a trip to Winthrop with my fellow artist friend Cyndi. The same shop buys both of our work and I was hoping to make a big sale to them. But they were on vacation for the whole week and I was unable to meet with them. So all the new jewelry I made eventually got loaded into the truck and brought back to the boat. At least I had a lot to bring with me.

The Trip Back to DC

We had arrived at my home on Thursday, April 11. On Saturday, April 27, it was time to start the drive back.

Why such a short trip? Well, I got my Captain’s license back in October and I had two clients waiting for Ranger Tug training in the Baltimore area. Both were very interested in getting the training done soon and one was already disappointed that he had to wait until I returned. These were paying gigs and if there’s one thing a freshly retired member of the gig economy loves, it’s paying gigs. So I was highly motivated to get back quickly.

Jason was motivated, too. Working from the car wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t a good solution. And if we left on Saturday, he’d be able to split the driving with me for the first two days, rather than leave 75% of it to me while he worked enroute.

Spotless Home
My house was absolutely spotless when we left.

So after giving the house a final cleaning, we got into the truck and headed out.

For some reason, we thought we might be able to make the trip in just three days. That notion was swept aside at the end of the first day in Bozeman, MT. We’d gotten a late start and then were delayed at lunchtime along the way. But we were determined to get there in four days.

The next stop was in Sioux Falls, SD. I think that’s where Jason found us a La Quinta for the night. Much nicer than any Motel 6, although it cost a bit more, too. I don’t think they charged us for the dogs, although they should have.

Then Indianapolis. Another La Quinta. This one had a nice Japanese restaurant across the street and we treated ourselves to a good sushi dinner.

Finally Washington DC. Our last fuel stop was in Frederick, MD, where Jason took over the driving for the final stretch. I can’t tell you how good it was to pull into a parking space and know that we were done driving.

Morning at the Wharf
What a pleasure to spend the night on a boat and wake up on the water.

Would I ever make the drive again? Yes, of course I would. But would I do it in four days? Hell no. The next time I make a long, cross-country drive, I’ll do it at a much more leisurely pace, taking in the sights along the way.

I should mention here that we put more than 7000 miles on Jason’s truck.

More Boat Service Woes

Meanwhile, a few things were going on with the boat, which was on the hard on Kent Island in Maryland.

First was the total failure of a marine electrical contractor to get his shit together for my solar upgrade. He’d had an entire month to come up with a proposal, get it approved, order the parts, and get the work done. He’d dragged his ass on the proposal, claiming that he was waiting for me to complete and sign a form I never got. In mid month, he sent the proposal and “resent” the form. I approved the proposal and sent back the completed form with a 50% deposit. We established a date to get the work done — which would be right before I returned. Then, when I was somewhere between Sioux Falls and Indianapolis, I got a call from one of his guys saying that it would be 10 days before they could receive the solar panels. That would delay the job by more than a week. By this time, I was having trouble imagining them actually getting the job done at all. I told them to cancel. Then the boss called and said they could get the panels quicker from Amazon and install them with only a few days delay. I looked up the panels on Amazon, realized they were upcharging me more than 100% for parts, and told them not to bother and to refund my deposit.

I got my money back and nothing was done to upgrade my solar setup. I’ll get it done when I get the boat back to Washington state.

At the same time all of this was happening, the guys I’d hired to detail the boat had noticed that one of the trim tab parts was messed up. He sent me a picture. I sent the picture to the yard. They said they don’t know how they missed it. Yes, they could fix it, but it might take time if the system needed to be bled. I told them to get started; I wanted every part of my boat to work the way it should.

Returning to Do It Now

All this affected my plans when I returned to the boat. Originally, Jason was supposed to drop me off at the boat on Thursday. (We’d gotten to DC on Tuesday.) But now I had to start shuffling things around. I couldn’t drive my boat to Baltimore to meet my clients if the boat wasn’t ready to go. We also had bad weather in the forecast and it wouldn’t be good for doing the training I’d planned for that weekend.

I shuffled a lot of stuff around and, in the end, decided to get a one-way car rental to drive myself to the boat and then be able to commute by land to the clients for their training. The money I got from them would cover my expenses.

But by then it was May and that’s another story.

Doing the Math on Art Shows

I compare art show venues to see which ones really do give me the best bang for the buck.

I’ve got a sort of running debate with a friend of mine about art show fees and which methodologies are best for artists.

Fee Considerations

Clearly, in a beautiful, perfect, artist-friendly world, show fees would be low and shows would be full of art lovers with deep pockets and plenty of empty wall space or jewelry/pottery/other craft needs.

But that’s not the way it is. Show runners want to make money far beyond the cost of running their venue and the artists are the draw. They set their fees based on what they think artists can afford to pay, with the goal of filling every available spot.


Here’s my jewelry sales booth as it appeared at Leavenworth Village Art in the Park on May 19. I’m trying to display my work as serious and elegant; most folks seem to think I’ve done it.

Artists, on the other side of the transaction, have to consider fees when they decide which shows to apply for. The higher the fees, the more work needs to be sold. Is it possible to sell enough work at the artist’s price points to cover show fees? And what about other expenses, such as the cost of getting to and from a show, lodging, parking, and who knows what else?

In general, better shows — ones with good track records for attracting lots of shoppers and scoring high on artist satisfaction — command higher fees. That can also be said for shows that can attract shoppers with deeper pockets or ones where the quality level of the artist work meets a higher than average standard. In both cases, the potential to sell work at higher prices might make it easier to cover fees.

But in nearly all cases, it’s a gamble. And in the short time I’ve been doing art shows, I’ve seen that firsthand.

Two Fee Methodologies

There are several fees involved with doing art shows and it’s worthwhile to take a look at each one.

  • Application Fee. This is usually a small amount of money — under $50 but usually closer to $10 or $20 — that must accompany an artist’s application to participate in a show. It is non-refundable and is apparently used to cover administrative costs.
  • Jury Fee. This is also usually a small amount of money — again, under $50 — that’s paid to judge an artist’s work before acceptance. Artists are normally required to submit photos of their work and their booth and may also sometimes be required to submit one or more photos showing them actually making the work to prove that they make it themselves. This is also non-refundable. Some shows will charge just a jury fee, if the show is juried, and not an additional application fee.
  • Booth Fee. The booth fee is usually the expensive part of doing a show. Fees can range from $20 for a Farmer’s Market table to well over $1000 for a spot in an indoor venue showcasing fine art in a major city. Just about every show is going to charge a fee for your space, based in part on the size of the booth and its position. A 10×20 foot space that’s open on two or more sides — like in a corner — would usually cost significantly more than a 10×10 space in line with other artists.
  • Commission Percentage. In addition to the booth fee, some venues charge a commission based on artist sales. They could process the sales of all artists centrally or provide special sales slips for artists to fill out to record each sale or use the honor system for artists to report sales. Commission percentages vary and are usually higher at venues with lower booth fees.
  • Other Fees. In addition to all this, some venues charge extra for power, draperies, tables, lighting, local business licenses, and insurance.

I’ll give you two examples.

Wenatchee Apple Blossom Festival Arts and Crafts Show, a three-day show where I’ve sold my work twice in the past four years, has the following fees:

  • Application/Jury Fee: $30
  • Local Temporary Business License: $25
  • Insurance Fee*: $85
  • Booth Fee: $299

Leavenworth Village Art in the Park, a three- to four-day show where I sell my work on about five weekends per year in the spring and late summer, has the following fees:

  • One-time application/jury fee for season: $15
  • Per weekend Security Fee: $30
  • Booth Fee: $0
  • Commission Percentage: 21%


* You can usually skip the insurance fee charged at an event by carrying your own insurance, which I do. It costs $375/year and covers all of my events.

The Debate

So the main part of the debate is this: which fee structure is best for artists? Flat fees or commission based fees?

First I need to mention one other thing: I’ve seen shows that have a relatively high booth fee — maybe $500 — plus a commission percentage of 20% or more. (I’m looking at you, Sacramento.) I avoid shows like that because I honestly don’t see how I can make any money. I also think those show runners are being unreasonably greedy and I don’t want to support them in any way.


Oh, this Seattle show! Although I paid the same as the artists in the main room with 10×10 booths, I was given a 10×7 space in a side room with six other unfortunate artists. The window behind my booth was old and drafty; on those November days, it was about 50°F in my chair. I didn’t lose money on this show, but sales were disappointing. I think I would have kicked butt in the other room, but who knows?

That said, the answer to the question of which is better really depends on the show. If it’s a great show and you have lots of sales, it’s better to avoid paying a commission on sales. After all, the more you sell, the more you pay.

But, at the same time, if the show is crappy and sales are low, commission based fees are better because you’ll pay less.

Let’s look at some hypothetical numbers, comparing the Apple Blossom show to the Leavenworth show. For the sake of argument, we’ll say the artist does Leavenworth just once so that one-time application fee doesn’t need to be split among multiple shows.

ItemApple BlossomLeavenworth
Gross Sales$3,000$3,000
Fees:  
  Application Fee$30$15
  Business License Fee250
  Insurance Fee850
  Security Fee030
  Booth Fee2990
  Commission0630
Total Fees$439$675
Net Sales*$2,561$2,325
Sales Cost Percent (Net÷Gross)14.6%22.5%

So in this case, the fixed fee event would be a better deal for the artist, allowing her to take home more money.

But what if the outdoor event was on a really crappy weather weekend? Cold and rainy and folks just didn’t want to come out? Say the artist sales that weekend were a disappointing $1,000. The story changes quite dramatically:

ItemApple BlossomLeavenworth
Gross Sales$1,000$1,000
Fees:  
  Application Fee$30$15
  Business License Fee250
  Insurance Fee850
  Security Fee030
  Booth Fee2990
  Commission0210
Total Fees$439$255
Net Sales*$561$745
Sales Cost Percent (Net÷Gross)43.9%25.5%

Totally different picture, no? Basically, the worse the show is for you, the less you pay in fees if your main fee is based on a commission.

This really comes into play when you have a totally crappy show, like the one I did in Spokane last November. Billed as a Holiday Arts and Crafts show where the show runners actually charged shoppers a fee to get in, most shoppers seemed more interested in buying $13 caramel apples than any sort of quality artist work. Between the show fees of $340 and the cost of making the 3-hour trip (each way) to Spokane, I wound up losing money on the show. (It would have been worse if I’d had to stay in a hotel, but I stayed in my truck camper on the fairgrounds and no one ever collected a fee.) Needless to say, I won’t be doing that show again.

But then again, if you have a great show that charges a commission percentage, it really costs you.

And that’s where the debate stands.


*Net Sales does not include other expenses of attending a show, such as transportation, lodging, parking, credit card fees, etc. All those do need to be calculated by the artist to come up with a total cost for the show when evaluating it.

What’s the answer?


Sunday mornings are always slow in Leavenworth, no matter how beautiful the weather is.

We don’t know how a show is going to be before we attend so it’s impossible to determine which will work out better in advance. Of course, prior attendance at a show can give you an idea of how it might work out. But even that isn’t guaranteed. I did well in Spokane in 2021 so I assumed I’d do just as well in 2022. I didn’t. Not even close. And the weather is always a factor, especially at outdoor shows.

I’ve done three shows in Leavenworth this spring and the first two were disappointing while the last one was really good. I paid relatively low fees for the first two but was hammered at the third. Still, my cost percentage remained between 22% and 26%. The percentage I take home is pretty solid. There’s some reassurance in that. It’s pretty much impossible to lose money at a percentage-based show. Low sales, low fees.

So there is no answer. It all depends.

And that’s part of what artists deal with when they try to sell their work at shows.

The other part? Setting up and tearing down a booth. Buying and maintaining display equipment. Getting to and from shows. Parking. Sitting in a booth all day, possibly leaving work unattended during trips to the restroom. Dealing with often thoughtless shoppers who make audible comments to friends about how easy it is to make this or how overpriced that is. Seeing your work handled by people who then drop it back down to bang against the metal display. Watching kids with ice cream on their hands touching everything. Keeping an eye out for dogs lifting their legs on table draperies and tent sides.

But let’s not forget the good stuff, too. Being told your work is beautiful. Being complemented on your unique designs. Having a customer buy an expensive piece that took you hours to make and telling you how much they love it.

All that should figure into the costs and benefits of being an artist at an art show, too, no?

Stop Working for Free

I get an email message from someone sounding pretty desperate for a job that isn’t going to help his career move forward.

If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you should know that I occasionally get email messages or texts so outrageous that I feel a real need to share them here as a lesson to whoever can learn a lesson. (Admittedly, many can’t.)

This is one of those occasions.

The Email Message

Here’s the message that arrived via a Contact link on this blog:

Hey Maria,
How’s it going? I hope this message finds you well. I wanted to reach out because I’m a relatively low-time private pilot with around 400 hours under my belt. I used to own a R22 helicopter for several years, but I actually sold it a couple of years ago.
Recently, I came across an article about cherry picking and it got me thinking. I would love to be considered as a potential candidate to join your team. I’m willing to work for free and cover all my expenses, including food and lodging, until we both agree that I’m ready for the job. I completely understand that you have no obligations or liabilities when it comes to me, and I’ll make sure to have full insurance coverage. My main goal is to become a better pilot and find a true purpose in flying. If you have a moment, I’d appreciate it if you could take a look at my profile here: https://[redacted]. In any case, congratulations on your blog. I absolutely love your lifestyle and it’s truly inspiring.

Looking forward to hearing from you.

Take care,
[redacted]

Tearing it Apart

There’s so much wrong with this, that I barely know where to start.

First of all, I have to assume that he means cherry drying and not cherry picking. I don’t do cherry picking. It’s hard work and better left for the professionals. The only cherries I pick are the ones my clients let me pick after they pick. I eat those. It’s one of the perks of the cherry drying business.

But what got me really fired up about this email is this guy’s offer to come here on his dime, cover all his living expenses, and “work for free.” He’s never really clear about what he wants to do, apparently for me, with his uncompensated time, but I have to again assume that it isn’t washing my cars or mowing my lawn. I suspect he wants to be a cherry drying pilot.

Even setting aside his extremely naive belief that a 400-hour R22 helicopter pilot can somehow get insurance to cover him for cherry drying work, the whole email reeks of desperation and ignorance.

Even if I had a helicopter for him to fly — and I definitely do not — what in the world makes him think I’d put him in it? I get first dibs on any idle helicopter that needs flying. And if I had a second spare helicopter, don’t you think I’d look for someone who had some actual experience in that make and model? I wouldn’t even consider using an R22 for cherry drying. It’s just too small.

Maybe he thinks I have a fleet of helicopters just sitting here, waiting for low time pilots to climb on board and fly them. I don’t.

But what tells me he didn’t do his homework was the simple fact that he seems to think that spending a summer as a cherry drying pilot will make him “a better pilot.” How much flying does he think there is? Although he offered “congratulations” on my blog — which turns twenty years old this year in October — he obviously didn’t bother to read much of it. Especially not the posts like this one where I specifically say that drying cherries isn’t for low-time pilots and is not good way to build flying time.

On my Contact Page
Yes, this is right on the page that he used to contact me. I guess reading the page contents was too much work for this guy looking for a job without pay. (This is a good reminder to update that page; Flying M Air has been sold and I’m retiring at the end of this cherry season.)

And no, I can’t expect him to wade through all 2500+ posts on this blog. Or do a search for “cherry drying” and read the posts that come up. Or click the cherry drying tag in the sidebar to quickly see posts tagged that way. But I seriously doubt he did more than watch a YouTube video of me drying cherries, find my blog, and click the Contact link to share his ridiculous offer with me. (He apparently didn’t read the paragraphs on that page regarding Career Advice and Pilot jobs, either.) He’s not the first lazy, ignorant job hunter I’ve encountered but I’m hoping that he’ll be the last.

Do I sound unreasonably harsh? Well, all I can say is what the fuck? I remember what I went through to get the various jobs I’ve had in my lifetime. Emailing someone with an offer to work for free at a job that doesn’t exist and that I don’t quality for anyway was never in my game plan. I have a whole series of posts titled “So You Want to Be a Helicopter Pilot.” Maybe he should start by reading those?

Stop Working for Free

But all of the above is not the purpose of this post. The purpose is to remind people that they should never offer to do a job for free.

No, I’m not talking about volunteering at the local Food Bank or Habitat project or any other charity operation. I’m talking about working for free — especially using highly specialized skills that you acquired at the cost of your time and money — for a for-profit business. Like a helicopter charter or agriculture company.

Believe me, companies have enough money to pay employees. If a company does not have enough money to pay its employees, it’s not a company you want to work for.

Any company that takes advantage of people offering to work for free — especially if that includes covering their own expenses — is not a company that you want to work for.

I firmly believe that everyone should be compensated for their work at for-profit organizations. That goes for pilots, writers, photographers, and any other job that takes a person’s time and effort or makes use of something that person created. Harlan Ellison said it best, and I know I’ve linked to this video more than once. Watch the video. Understand what he’s saying.

When you work for free, you tell people that your work is worthless. It’s not worth paying for. Is that the message you want to send? Do you expect to work for free for your entire life? That’s the path you set yourself on when you work for free.

Just stop it.

End of May Already?

Time flies when you’re busy, whether you’re having fun or not.

My last two posts were more than a month ago, in April. I haven’t written a single word — in any of my blogs — since then. I’ve just been too damn busy.

Or tired. Or unmotivated.

The Trip Home

I’m home now from my winter travels. Unlike previous years when I took my RV — most recently, a Lance truck camper — down into Arizona and California for December through March — this year I was on my boat traveling along the Great Loop. I’ve done a total of just over 3000 miles in the boat since I launched it in Chicago in October 2022. Most of that has been solo — just me and my pups. Turns out that my guest accommodations are not satisfactory for friends who have joined me. (Who knew?) Also, I don’t think they got the trip they were expecting. So solo is probably better, at least for now, until I can find a companion who has the right expectations and doesn’t mind sleeping in a cozy cubbyhole.

I’ve been trying to detail my trip in my Great Loop blog, My Great Loop Adventure. Unfortunately, I got behind in my posts and then I got really behind in my posts. As I type this, my most recent post covers my stay in Clearwater Beach, FL in January. It’s now the end of May. I have to hope I can reconstruct the following three months from my notes, travel logs, and photos. That’s one of my main tasks for June. You can help motivate me by reading and commenting on the posts there. That blog will eventually become a book — if I can ever catch up and finish it.

I had the boat hauled out of the water in late April and put “on the hard” at a marina in Chester, MD. The boat’s bottom looked great — no damage at all and very clean after a quick power-washing. It won’t need painting before I launch it again, so that’ll save some money. On the other hand, it appears that a shallow water incident on my first Loop day did indeed do some minor damage to the prop. (That is the only shallow water incident I had where the prop was involved, so it must have been that.) Obviously not enough to affect operation — after all, I did drive it 3000 nautical miles after that — but enough to have the prop pulled and the two tiny blade bends fixed. That might reduce the vibration I feel at certain speeds and, according to the yard owner, it might even help me get an extra knot of speed. I was also very pleased to see that I didn’t have any crap trap line wrapped around my prop; I know I cut one line with the prop on Florida’s west coast but never had any symptoms of a problem.

After cleaning the inside of the boat and packing up, my pups and I headed for Dulles Airport early in the morning of April 27. At 2:30 local time, we were back in Wenatchee, where my friend Bob picked me up and took me home. My house-sitters had vacated just a few days before, leaving the place neat and clean, with clean sheets on the bed. (Thank you John and Allie!) I’m not sure if the cats were glad to see me, but I know the chickens weren’t. I’d been gone so long, they surely had no memory of me.

Good to Be Home?

For the next few weeks, I felt conflicted about being home.

First of all, it was nice to sleep in my big, comfy bed that, amazingly, didn’t rock at all at night, no matter how windy it was outside. It was nice to be able to use a toilet without worrying about how many times I’d flushed, what color the tank light was, and where/when I’d have to dump waste. It was also nice to take a shower with as much hot water and space as I needed without having to walk to a separate building on shore. And I really do appreciate my dishwasher, washer, dryer, and giant refrigerator.

I was home with all the comforts of home. My boat is comfortable, but its space is limited and, like living in an RV, there are special concerns that you just don’t have at home.


Here’s the view from my deck one day not long after my return. How can a person not love looking at this every day?


I changed the Lock Screen on my phone to a shot taken by my Looper friend Kim on her boat Pony as we headed down the Chicago River in October 2022. Now I’m reminded every day where I want to be.

But I did miss being on the boat. Traveling from place to place, meeting new people every day, seeing new things every day. Facing and overcoming challenges. Enjoying the simple joy of a sunrise from up on the command bridge, with a gentle breeze in my hair and waking birds flying about. Motoring to a new destination with very little idea of what I’d find along the way or when I arrived. I’m a traveler — like my grandfather was — I’m happiest when I’m on the road — or water — exploring new places or revisiting favorite old ones.

So the first few weeks home were a bit of a mental challenge, with an internal argument telling me I should be happy to enjoy the comforts of home while also telling me that home was boring and predictable and I needed to get back out on the boat as soon as I could.

The Art Shows

Of course, I had to hit the ground running when I got home. (Or I thought I did.) I had four weekends in a row with art shows and I seriously doubted I’d have enough inventory to do them.

It started a week after my return, with my second appearance at Wenatchee’s annual Apple Blossom Festival. There’s an Arts and Crafts show the second weekend of that event with strict setup rules. That had me setting up my booth on the Thursday before the event. That day, I also (finally) got a haircut and made myself presentable to the world. I spent the next three days in my booth, suffering through the dust or pollen or whatever that stuff was that got on everything. The event was extremely disappointing; I suspect my work was too high-end for the audience. I tried not to be insulted when two different people — guys, of course — came into the booth to ask if I had anything around $10. I don’t.

What followed that were three consecutive weekends at Leavenworth Village Art in the Park. This is a juried show that I’ve been part of for the past three years. It’s held every weekend from May into October and artists are able to choose the weekends they want. Management then picks the artists and tells them which dates they can have. I picked five weekends in May, August, and September, and got four. I always want Mother’s Day weekend — I’m selling jewelry, right? — but this year I didn’t get it. Until about two weeks before I got home. Another jeweler had backed out on that weekend and I was asked if I wanted to take her place. Hell yes. So that’s how I wound up with three weekends in May.


Here’s the current incarnation of my art show booth, set up for Mother’s Day weekend in Leavenworth, WA.

(I should mention here that I don’t do weekends during the summer because that’s cherry season and I’m on standby. I can’t answer calls promptly if I’m sitting in a tent a hour’s drive away. More on that in a moment.)

So I set up for Mother’s Day weekend — three days. Unfortunately since I thought I wasn’t going to do Mother’s Day weekend, I booked a class in Ellensburg — two hours from home — to teach silversmithing on Saturday. I thought that class might get cancelled; it was a relatively expensive four-hour class. But it wasn’t so I had to get a friend to sit in my booth on Saturday while I went to Ellensburg to do that.

Mother’s Day weekend sales were very disappointing.

So was the next weekend. That made three weekends in the row with disappointing sales.

I was beginning to think that it was either the economy or the venue that was bringing my sales numbers down. People are definitely not spending like they were back in 2021. And, at the same time, some of my work was becoming more refined and, yes, more expensive. Was I making a product that wasn’t a good match for the “tourist shows” I was showing at? My friend Janet, who has been doing art shows for about 40 years now, thinks so. I think I’m on a sort of knife’s edge where I could go either way. I can make the lower-end items people seem to be ready to buy but I want to make the higher end items that are more creative and challenging and help develop my skills as a silversmith.

The good part of all this is that although I thought I’d have to spend the month making jewelry to keep my inventory up for shows, I didn’t. I made a handful of new items and then, after that third bad show, took the week off to tend to other things.

I went into the four-day Memorial Day weekend with very low expectations.


This was the first of two “next level” pieces I made during the month of May. Hubei Turquoise in sterling silver.

And I kicked butt. Seriously: I had my second best ever show. (The best was Mother’s Day weekend in Leavenworth back in 2021.) Although I’d told myself I’d stop making the wire-framed pendants that had gotten me started back in 2018, I had to make them while I was at my booth just to keep my displays filled. And beaded earrings and bracelets and necklaces. And I sold them. But best of all, I also sold one of the high-end pieces I’d made earlier in the month — a piece I considered “next level” for me. While I was sad to see it go — sometimes I get a real attachment for my work — I was also thrilled that someone was willing to pay that much money for something I’d made.

So now I’m done with shows for a while, coming down off a high from this past weekend. My next show is at Lake Chelan — yes, another tourist show — but I suspect I’ll do well if the weather is good and folks come out. I have three weeks to stock up and I have some ideas for the kind of next level pieces I want to make.

The Diet

Well, it took about 10 years, but I managed to gain back all of the weight I lost back in 2012, the year I also shed a husband and gained full control of my life. If you’re a regular reader, you may recall that I’d gone on a Medifast diet along with a friend and we both lost about 45 pounds in four months. (I basically followed him down the scale; he was a week ahead of me and we’d started at the same weight. He’s shorter than I am.) I kept most of the weight off for a few years, but little by little my overeating habit returned and the weight came back. For the most part, I eat very well — very little junk food and hardly any fast food — but I tend to like what I eat and eat more than I should. That’s what got me back to where I started in early 2012.

I’d tried cutting back on my eating but was unsuccessful. I needed a program that was easy to stick to, one I knew would work. So I went back on the new version of Medifast, which is called Optavia. Mostly the same food — although definitely sweeter sweets and saltier savories (what’s up with that?) — and the same plan. I started on May 1 and 30 days later, I’m weighing in at about 16 pounds less than I started. I’ll stick with it throughout the summer and have no doubt that I’ll reach my goal weight (again) before I go back to the boat in September.

And this time I’ll keep it off. It’s mostly for my health, but I can’t deny the emotional kick I feel when I look in the mirror and see someone who looks as good as I should.

Cherry Drying

I start my last season drying cherries on June 10. This is a mellower than usual season with less acreage and fewer pilots. It’s also not clear how much flying I’ll do — if you recall, I sold the helicopter to buy my boat last year. Last year, I leased a helicopter for the season, but that ended with problems I didn’t want to blog about — and won’t unless they rear their ugly head again. (Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t blog about everything in my life.) This year, I might be flying one of the helicopters my pilots are bringing up from Texas. Or I might not. It depends on whether it rains. (If my pilots have everything under control and can dispatch themselves, I’ll tell the Leavenworth Village Art in the Park folks to put me on their wait list for other summer weekends.)

This will be my fifteenth season drying cherries. Since I started way back in 2008, I’ve built my business up to the point where, at its peak, I had six guys on my team every summer and was bringing in more revenue than I did during the heydays of my writing career. Things are slowing down now and that’s fine with me. The stress of worrying about a crew of mostly unknown pilots and literally hundreds of acres of client orchards has really taken a toll on me. This is the last season I’ll be involved and I’ve already let most of my clients know.

When I look back at my freelance career, I’ve come to realize that I’ve been working every single summer since 1998. If it wasn’t a Quicken book, it was cherry drying. I’m really looking forward to having a whole summer off for the first time in 25 years and I’ve already made plans for it.

As for the business, I’m hoping this season’s pilots will consider taking over my contracts and giving my current client base the good service they deserve.

Will I miss flying? I already do, a little. But honestly, I’m enjoying the boat so much that I think I can get over it.

Remember: you can’t move forward if you’re looking behind you. Being a helicopter owner/operator is in my rear view mirror and I’m not turning around.

Other Stuff to Keep Me Busy This Summer

My list of Things to Do gets bigger every day.

Gardening
I didn’t properly put my garden to bed last autumn so that meant more work this spring. I finally have most of my 12 beds planted. I still need to weed around them and get things neatened up.

Selling Stuff
My biggest problem at home? I have too much stuff. I’m in the process of selling off a bunch of it. I’ve already sold my helicopter landing platform and tow bar; one of my summer pilots might be buying other helicopter gear I still have. I also need to sell my truck camper and my little boat — yes, I still have that! Future items for sale: my telescope, my cheesemaking gear, a bunch of circa 2000 Apple swag from Macworld Expo shows, my beekeeping equipment, and so much more. Craig’s List has been an absolute gem at moving this stuff out without costing me an arm and a leg.

Garage Bathroom
I still need to finish the bathroom in the garage. That’ll require some assistance on the plumbing from a builder neighbor who I hope to get in here soon. The goal is to have it done — or at least the toilet functioning — by the end of June.

Garage Reorganization
What a mess my garage is! I’m reorganizing it to move all my woodworking and tools out of my jewelry shop area and into the adjacent space. My workbench will become a miter saw bench. Then I’ll expand the jewelry shop to include space for two students, as well as my futon and some other furniture to make it a more comfortable, useful space.

Spring Cleaning in the House
I’ve already done the cleaning part of this. Now I just need to offload a lot of clothes and other household items I simply don’t need in the house. Yes, I’m downsizing! There are a lot of reasons for this, but the main one is that less stuff means less clutter.

Blogging
I really do need to catch up on my Great Loop blog. And not neglect this blog so much.

Working the Jewelry Biz
I need to keep making new jewelry, selling it at shows, and bringing it to established consignment and wholesale accounts. Others are selling my jewelry for me and although they take a hefty fee — as much as 40% — it’s a lot more efficient to let them sell it than to go to shows, especially since I can’t do shows when I’m on the boat. I also want to start teaching small classes out of my shop, using days when I need to make a specific product to teach others to make the same thing. That’s something I need to set up soon since my time home is so limited.

Those are the main things that will keep me busy this summer. I guess I’d better get to it.

May Helicopter Flight with Mr Bleu

Another video from the FlyingMAir YouTube channel.

On May 5 — and yes, I know it says May 6 in the video — I took Mr Bleu out for a Flight around the Wenatchee area. Join me for a cockpit POV flight that includes cockpit narration and some radio work.

NOTE: This is the 1080 HD version of this video. An ad-free 4K UHD version of this video is available to YouTube Channel Members and Patreon Patrons at the Access Premium Content level. You can become a YouTube Channel member here: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCLGD_GbGsS6YKK_Ekx0QMqQ/join

You can also get access to just the special version of this video with a one-time contribution of just $3. Learn more here: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/MLanger/e/72245