Packing Pots, Nerves and Optimism

This Saturday I’ll be setting up my little world of ceramics at Witham Hall in Barnard Castle — and I’m equal parts excited and mildly terrified.

From the outside, markets look charming and effortless. A pretty table. Smiling maker. Lovely things arranged just so.

Behind the scenes? It’s a strategic operation and emotional rollercoaster!

What do I actually take?

I have far too much work. A wonderful problem — until you’re staring at shelves trying to decide who makes the cut. I want enough pieces to show the range (they all have their own personalities, after all), but not so many that my table looks like a ceramic jumble sale.

So I’m being decisive. Possibly ruthless. If you don’t fit on the table, you may have to wait your turn.

The practical puzzle

Pricing - my eternal conundrum! Fair to me. Fair to you. Reflective of the time, materials, skill, love, occasional despair… and the fact I only have two hands.

There’s a lot of quiet maths involved in ceramics. And a lot of quiet hope.

Signage in place, business cards ready , payment system charged and behaving itself....

And then the real challenge: transporting fragile, slightly temperamental clay characters safely to the market. There will be bubble wrap. Towels. Deep concentration. I shall drive as though I’m carrying the Crown Jewels.

What I’m most looking forward to, though, is the people. The moment someone picks up a piece and smiles — or laughs — or says, “That’s me.” That connection is everything.

I’m quietly hoping this one will be busier than my very first market last year… which happened to land in the middle of a snowstorm. I had about half a dozen people brave the weather, and I appreciated every single one of them.

This Saturday, I’m aiming for slightly more than six.

If you’re nearby, do come and say hello. I’ll be the one rearranging the display for the tenth time and pretending I’m not nervous at all.

Wish me luck — and clear skies!