Anticipation was the best part! Or a Day at the Races.

This a pic of the little Pot Pouri bear, which was my sole purchase at the Doll Bear & Quilt show yesterday. A blurry little pic, & I see she was made in China! Oh well, I suppose she is a well travelled little girl.

And, sadly, it is true, that the anticipation was the very best part of the Show. I never managed to get one photo taken, and barely managed to get any sightings of traders tables, the competition dolls & bears, and worst of all, the quilts were so poorly displayed it broke my heart for the entrants.

It was held at a Racecourse. A large building, with a bar. Which opened. Quite early. I was almost tempted to try a nice cold beer. And I dont really like beer. I saw 2 sad men standing quietly, drinking beers & keeping their distance from the madding throng! How wise.

I only met one person I knew, it was nice to catch up with her. We used to take Doll making classes at the same studio many years ago. She has stopped making the dolls now, too, but she still makes clothes & still has her stall at the shows.

It was a shame the show was so cramped, & the organisers were apologising for the lack of space. The venue has 3 levels, which had all been promised to be made available for the show. Only 2 levels were available in the event, which meant that things were so crowded as to verge on claustraphobic.

Saddest of all was the lack of space afforded the quilts displays. The aisles were so close it was impossible to take photos, or stand back to admire.

With age & time, girths increase it seems, & if two stout ladies met in an aisle one had to almost knock down a quilt (or the other lady) to pass! Which did happen. You could not stand with arms outstretched. It would have pushed quilts out on the hangers. The feet on the stands were almost death traps to unwary feet, I saw 4 near dives as the people tripped over the feet. One of the near dives was me.

I felt sorry -& irked, I am ashamed to say- by mothers who insisted on bringing their children in large fancy prams, upstairs, to clog the space even further. And the poor little old ladies with walker frames... Some of them may have been quilters, but I saw filthy looks aimed their way. Mutterings were to be heard, with impolite suggestions.

At traders tables, the crush was five deep, which meant viewing the goodies on offer was impossible. I would have loved a chance to look at some fat 1/4s but couldnt get near. Some people of increased girth seem to be unaware of their sheer volume of space taking! It is not a nice sensation to be shoved aside by a large breast! Which seemed as hard as steel! And almost at ear level! Or a gigantic bum, the owner of which, seems to be oblivious of it's size.

I suppose we still imagine ourselves to be the size 10 or 12 we once were?

I did note one woman, who came hesitantly round the quilt aisles, & screamed,
"OH my God! That is my quilt. It is the first one I have ever made! I have a Rosette! I got Second! I cant believe it. Oh I feel sick!" All of us around her congratulated her, & she was so excited she was shaking. What a lovely surprise for her.

I am not one to push & shove. I will stand politely aside. I dislike being forcibly shoved, from any angle. I did my best to view the quilts. I managed to speak to a nice quilter about her longarm quilting business. I was shoved & flung around the competition entries of dolls & bears. One circuit round, & I was flung out the other end, on a surging tide of humanity.

I left long before the 'lucky door prize' was announced. I even felt lucky to have avoided a panic attack. I have never had one, but felt as if it might just be the day I would!

It was so nice to get home, put my feet up, & just be calm! Bliss.