Setting Up the Table Again

September means the tent comes out of the shed again. We wipe off the dust, check the poles for rust, and load the truck the night before so nobody is standing in the driveway at six in the morning trying to find a missing tent stake. Fall is fair season around here, and fair season is a big part of why we do this at all.

There is a rhythm to it. We pick a market, usually somewhere within an hour of Ashland, and we start thinking about what to bring almost a week out. Cooler weather means people want things for their hands and faces again, so the body butters and lotions come along in bigger numbers than they did in July. The Silky Body Butter always sells fast once the air turns dry, and we have learned to bring extra Lip Balm because nobody thinks they need it until their lips are already chapped.

Setting up the table itself takes about forty minutes if nothing goes wrong, which it usually does. A folding table that stood level in the yard will not stand level on a slanted patch of grass at a county fairground. We have gotten good at using folded cardboard as shims. We arrange the soap by scent instead of by type, because that is how people shop with their nose before they shop with their eyes. The Goat Milk Soap and the Rubber Ducky Soap tend to sit near the front, since kids gravitate toward the duck shape and parents gravitate toward the goat milk once they read the label.

What we like best is not the selling. It is the talking. Somebody stops because a scent reminds them of their grandmother's kitchen, and then we are talking about grandmothers for ten minutes instead of soap. Somebody's dog sniffs the Beard Wash sampler off the table and everyone laughs. A woman from two towns over tells us her husband will only use the Beard Balm now and asks if we can hold two for her until next month. That is the whole business, really, standing behind a table and finding out what people actually need instead of guessing.

We get asked the same few questions at every fair. Is it really made in Ashland, yes, in the same kitchen where we make dinner. Does the goat milk soap smell like a goat, no, and we say it kindly because it is a fair question. Can they smell the unscented one before they decide, of course, that is what the Glycerin Soap — Unscented Guest Bar is there for, and half the time people end up buying it anyway because plain and clean is its own kind of pleasant.

The hardest part of fair season is the weather turning on us mid-day. A cold morning warms up fast under a tent, and body butters get soft, lip balms sweat a little in their tins. We keep a cooler bag under the table for exactly that reason and nobody has ever complained about a product being kept out of the sun.

By the time we pack the truck back up, we are tired in the good way, the way that comes from being on your feet talking to strangers about soap for six hours straight. We drive home with less product than we brought and a few new names in our heads, and that always feels like a fair trade.

If you catch us at a market this fall, come say hello, ask us anything, smell whatever you want. And if a fair is not in your plans, our shop in Ashland is open for local pickup any day we are home, and shipping is free on orders over seventy five dollars, so the table can more or less come to you.