At the Capitola Art and Wine Festival

Saturday was the first day of another fair-type event that I was hoping to go to with Doug. We had had a couple of calmer days, and after all, we could do a walk/ride the 1/2 mile to the beach, and his mobility scooter was charged up and raring to go. Well, at least I was.

The day started out chillier than I'd hoped. After being raised in Washington state, Doug has an aversion to fog and rain. Clouds had formed overnight, and I hoped that it would be a good day for the vendors...and us. We waited until about 2 pm, when the high was about 65. I wore a light sweater, since I get overheated walking, and Doug was armed with a sturdy windbreaker and a hat. We had watched the constant parade of folks walking by in the street from the front window of our little cottage on Riverview Drive, and finally we joined them.

When we got to the Espanade, there were police officers conducting traffic, and we could see a sea of white tents for the craftspeople and wine vendors lining the street. The entrance was crowded, since there were lines of people purchasing their wine glasses for $15, and then "coins" for their wine, $1 a piece.

There was a special: for $40 you could get one glass and 25 coins. I thought that the people who invested in those might need to take an Uber home. We really aren't that big on wine, so we decided to get one glass and five coins, and share the wine. I walked over to a vendor, chose the pinot noir, and she said, "That'll be 4 coins please", as she handed me my 1/4 full wine glass with 2024 Capitola Art and Wine Festival printed on it, I said. "Oh! I thought each tasting was one coin."

"But this is our finest wine. The rosé is $2 coins. Here you go. I'll give you back one coin since you didn't know". I walked over to Doug and handed him our glass. "I didn't have any of it yet. I wanted to show you how big of a pour we got," and I told him the story of getting a "discount".

We chose to walk on the sidewalk for a while, since it wasn't so crowded, but ventured out into the foray since we got tired of only seeing the backs of the tents. I "ran interference" for Doug while he drove the scooter as I had done in New Orleans, saying, "Excuse us, and pardon us, coming through!" People were very nice and understanding, but sometimes I'd get distracted by some pottery or a painting, and look behind me to see him blocked by a few people chatting. I figured I'd have to do better if I wanted to keep him happy.

When we reached another driveway that we knew to be near Zelda's restaurant, we thought we'd get some lunch. "It'll be about 15 minutes", the hostess said, and we agreed to wait. Doug pulled his ride over near the sand where another man was waiting on his scooter and his wife was sitting on a plastic chair. With no place to sit for me, I decided to walk down on the beach where the little lagoon is. Memories came clearly to me of when I was little and my cousins and nieces and nephews paddled around on inner tubes and jumped off of the little cement arrow-shaped drain. And of course, I never get tired of looking at the colorful Venetian Court buildings.

I stomped back through the sand to join Doug, just as the lady vacated her chair. We decided to call my sister Lorraine on Facetime to share what we were doing. It was getting mistier, and since our 15 minutes had already passed, Doug asked the hostess if we could order a drink while we waited. She sent someone over to take our order, so Doug got us each one of their yummy Manhattans with the dark sweet cherries on a bamboo pick. Finally, I received a notice on my phone that our table was ready, so we left his scooter where it was and walked onto the deck. (I always remember riding the merry-go-round at this exact spot in the 60's). A bittersweet memory, but we love coming here now for the calamari or the clam chowder.

Doug started bundling up more, with his hat up on top of his jacket hood, since it was getting even more damp. The hot chowder was very welcome. "I don't know if I can stay out in this weather much longer", he said.

"I really would like to go farther down the street, if you can stand it. Besides, Lorraine said that her friend, Gila is selling her fused glass here somewhere. Let's see if we can find her, okay?"

"Alright. But can we take the other street home? It probably won't be as busy."

"Good idea!" I said. "We'd better get going."

Venturing back out onto the Esplanade, I tried to mainly focus on anyone selling glassware, but couldn't help stopping to view the many potters. Sometimes I'd say, "Don't get too excited by me. I do pottery too! I'm just wondering how you do at this sale." One person said, "I don't know yet. This is my first time.", Others said it was usually worth it.

We came to the end of the street and turned left. We could see food trucks parked in the parking lot where I remember the Capitola Theater had been. That's where I saw Gone With the Wind with my cousin Lonni when it first came out. Then, onto Capitola Ave., where it was just as crowded for Doug, and lines of people were waiting at the wine vendors. One of them had all of the choices at only 2 coins apiece. I would have spent ours there, but the lines were too long.

Finally, I spotted Gila's Glass booth, and went up to introduce myself as Lorraine's sister. "You know, I thought there was something familiar about you!" she said. Gila had the most interesting fused glass wavy objects that could hold photos or even be used as vases for flowers. Amazing, what artists can come up with.

It was time to head for our home away from home. I tried to do a good job of alerting passersby to let him through. At one point, a man kindly helped us pave the way, and I said, "Here!", while I handed him our last 2 coins. "Thank you so much!"

"Much appreciated Ma'am!"

As we passed by the rest of the arts and crafts, I thought, "We really don't need anything, at least right now." After moving down from Tahoe, we have more "things" than even two Priuses can hold. I've even ordered a canvas rooftop carrier to hold some of our stuff for our trek down South in November. Some major weeding out will have to happen. I'll have to remember what I learned from Marie Kondo's book.....Does this item bring me joy? It's worked for me before, but I'll have to remember to be more strict.

When I've sold my pots and jewelery in Palm Springs, I've had people tell me the same thing, so now I understand. "I just don't have room for one more thing in my tiny place...not even one of your beautiful mugs!" I'll keep making them though. The whole process of making something from a lump of clay is satisfying to me. That's what brings me joy.