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I really have spent the past ten or so years on this project and am looking forward to its completion and publication. It should be on the market this coming spring. The book sold out about a year or so ago and the decision was made to not offer a second printing. I must admit that I was a bit surprised when new copies started showing up on Amazon. Frankly, I don't know if the books sold or not but I was really happy when I found another fifty new copies of the book in my workshop.

So give me a call or email me and I'll get you whatever you need! But there's a lot more to it than that. And I will freely admit and confess right up front that I really am getting too old for my present of life style. Tom was also doing the show and he had his truck and trailer already packed and ready to go.

Once we were fully loaded, we took both vehicles to my cabin and spent the night swimming and fishing. My daughter, now ten years old, caught the only fish that evening. She reminded Tom and I, both serious fishermen, that she did catch the only fish and felt the need to tell our neighbors about her success.

Needless to say, I was proud of her but she didn't have to brag about it all night. We were up at five the following morning. As the day broke I took my psychotic ten month old yellow lab retriever for a swim. She is definitely a water dog and for hours on end will endlessly chase sticks tossed in the lake. After about her tenth retrieval she spotted a few ducks swimming fifty yards off shore. Needless to say she gave chase.

They just kept swimming and the damn dog kept following them. Once she was more than three hundred yards off shore and clearly out of site I hopped in my boat and finally pulled her out of the water more than a mile off shore. She also felt the need to jump back in the water when we were traveling about fifty miles per hour. And it took several minutes to turn the boat around and pluck her from the cold water.

After breakfast, Tom and I took off for New Hampshire. Traveling was easy at first. Then on RT 11, we hit serious construction sites and were required to stop on many occasions. And on several occasions we had to drive at five MPH over dirt roads for miles. A four hour trip took nearly seven. Neither of us were impressed with the traffic. Once at the exhibit we had to wait a bit to unload our vehicles but inside of three hours my booth looked great and Tom's was well under way.

In the evening, after a dinner of Chinese food, we stopped at a local Wal-Mart. It was surprising to us that the Gunstock Resort where the show was being held was selling their Gatorade for two bucks a container. Tom and I bought equal size containers for 87 cents each at Wal-mart.

Then the fun began. Because this was a low budget excursion I allowed Tom to stay with me in the same hotel room. The room contained two single beds.

Without mincing words, Tom snores like a jack hammer. He also sneezes, burps, gurgles, wheezes, yawns, coughs, clears his throat and mumbles to himself. The noises and sounds, and other biological inflections, coming from him, were constant and unrelenting.

I woke up angry several times during the night and went for long walks. But I got over it. Nonetheless, the show opened around noon of Friday and many people "mulled" around looking at all kinds of great stuff.

During that time, I sold several books and answered questions of all sorts. But I'll tell you, once you've answered the same sort of question a thousand times it really does get a bit boring. The usual set of questions include, but are not limited to, the following; How do you get the bark to stay on?

How did you get into this business? Are these real antlers? What kind of wood is this? Where do you get your materials? These questions, in truth, are well intended, innocuous and innocent, and I'll answer them all day long. But then many of the comments are "darker" as well, including; Why is this so much money? It's just a bunch of sticks. I can do this stuff and I'll make a fortune. You must be getting rich.

I heard these things are made in China. Are these pieces made from plastic? My furniture is better than your furniture. My home is much better than any of the ones you show in your books. Did you really do these books or did someone else write them. Who made the photos for your books? This piece is marked fifteen hundred dollars. I'll give you three hundred in cash for it. You killed the moose just for his antlers and head? One individual grilled me for several minutes on how to retain the value of their log home, when is the best time to sell it, what they could do to increase its value, etc.

My only response to them was to see a realtor in their neighborhood. And, as always, I had at least ten people bring photos of their homes to show me and all the while praying that I would want to include their home in one of my books. I will also say that I do find it a bit disturbing when someone comes into my booth, sets a drink down on one of my tables, picks up a few of my books and spends a half hour looking at the pictures.

And all the while having no intention whatsoever of purchasing one of the books that now had grease stains from the popcorn on their fingers and rumpled pages.

One of the most conniving incidents I've had at a show happened the year before. I asked them about it and they assured me that they were legitimate and had been promised by the promoters that I would give them a book of their choice.

Because I had lots of people in my booth I signed a book of their choice and off they went. Later on, I found out that the promoters had not requested a copy of my book and that the man, in front of his family, actually stole a book from me.

I was hoping that the same guy would have showed up this year because I really would have called the police on him. Here's another tale that happened at last year's show. I had sold a very high-end rustic settee, complete with leather upholstery, to a client.

Of course, I had to deliver the piece which was an hour north of the show. When people say it's only a half hour that really means a full hour! So in my rented U-Haul truck at 75 cents a mile and at about 6 miles per gallon of gas, I drove to the clients home.

After considerable effort up a small stair case to the second floor we placed the settee in a great spot. It looked absolutely wonderful where it was. After the delivery I spent the next six hours returning to my home.

A week later the guy who bought the settee from me called my gallery and said that the piece just didn't work for him and he was returning it. A week later, he showed up with the settee and wanted a full refund. I gave him a check and should have charged him for the extra hundred and fifty dollars it cost me for gas and mileage on the big U-haul truck.

The show opened at noon and closed at 8 PM. It was a very, very long day. And, of course, once back at the hotel, I had to put up with Tom and his body noises all night.

The following day, Saturday, the show opened at ten in the morning. The traffic was excellent and I sold many books and talked with all kinds of interesting people. I survived the day by drinking three, large size Red Bulls. At eight that evening about fifteen of us went to an open air restaurant on Lake Winnipesaukee and had a great seafood dinner.

All of us commented on the economy and talked for hours about the rustic furniture business and how crazy it really is. Sunday, the last day of the show in fact, any show , is always hard.

I did sell one large sideboard the heaviest piece I had with me and was a bit disappointed that I would have to deliver it that evening. Breaking down at a show has to be one of the hardest things to do. In general, you're tired, a bit frustrated and just want to go home. Nonetheless, at four PM, dozens of vehicles made their way to the exit doors and people started loading up.

I was incredibly fortunate in that the show promoters had hired a dozen or so high school kids and they were an absolute blessing by helping me load up my vehicle. And by 5 PM I was on the road! But, of course, finding the home where I had to deliver the sideboard was no easy task.

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