THE PHANTOM

Although I had plenty to do here at home, I felt I needed a break from it today. I remembered a craft show was being held at my grandson's school and decided to go. The show was well attended but many of the booths were filled with imported goods and I was only interested in seeing handcrafted items.

I think I understand why people sometimes fall prey to the import impulse. It's tempting to think about buying imports to re-sell when one has run out of time to craft. Personally, I would rather end up with fewer items to sell than to stock up on things I didn't make myself.

What annoys me the most about imported items is the fact some crafters actually try to pass them off as their own handcrafted things. It's terribly disappointing to either participate in or attend a craft show that promises all handcrafted goods, only to find the promoters did not stand behind their policies of only choosing crafters who make their own items. I'll get off the soapbox now.

The day wasn't a total disappointment. After viewing the craft show, I traveled to a rustic farm market called Barn-N-Bunk. http://barnnbunk.com/ I thorougly enjoyed the fragrance of their fresh cut Christmas trees, pine wreaths, and garlands. There were craft booths inside the barns and one building had a loft full of vintage quilts and other collectables. I had a good time looking through the handcrafted offerings and assortments of old time candy, jams, and Amish made breads, cheese, and noodles. I didn't buy anything though. I was just there to browse today.

I rarely go anywhere without having one sort of animal adventure or another and today was no exception. I had returned to my town and decided to make one more stop. I was headed down Central Avenue and from a residental driveway ran a tiny brown dog. He had a collar so I assumed someone cared about him, but no one was outside to watch him and he ran straight into traffic. There he stood in the middle of the busy street, with cars whizzing past. I was sure I'd not be able to get to him quickly enough if a driver didn't stop for him.

I was amazed when the little dog made it safely across the street and I turned into the alley where he was standing. He looked directly at me, and as I rolled down my window to talk to him, he darted into traffic again, going back the same direction from whence he'd come. I cringed, thinking there was no way he'd be so lucky a second time, but he made it across again. I couldn't back out of the alley into the busy street so I went around the block and tried to find the little dog. I thought I'd be able to return him to his owner who likely didn't know he was outside.

The little stinker had disappeared. I knew exactly where he'd been, and traced his steps, but he was no where to be found. I started to pull over and knock on doors, but had no idea where to begin. I circled the block twice more, looking for him, and then went on to make my last stop of the day. On the way back through that part of town, I drove through another alley and down a couple more streets, but the little guy had vanished just as suddenly as he had appeared. Could he have been a figment of my imagination? I'm glad he's safe - even if he was a phantom dog.