Do Happy Sheep Make Warmer Sweaters?

Despite the tanking economy, with pundits and politicians bemoaning the Jobless like they once bemoaned the Homeless, for some people money is no object. Today I walked around one of those artsy craft fairs that dot the countryside in late summer and early fall. This one was a two-day affair held on the grounds of the local Audubon Society, so the setting was bucolic and conducive to spending. There were the usual tents, each containing a smiling artist desperate to sell, surrounded by the fruits of his or her labor, or to put it more accurately, hobby. Of course, there was not one thing for sale that I or anyone else needed, just things that might be fun, for a few minutes, to have.

One guy carved strange, human faces into wooden tree trunks, ostensibly to be used as garden decor. They were truly bizarre, and cost between $500 and $800. I asked the artist how long they would last, what with bugs and mildew and rain and snow, since it was after all still a tree trunk and a dead one to boot, and he looked me over carefully before answering, "About 20 years." I'm pretty sure that if I were younger he might have said 30 or 40 years, depending.

There were those stained-glass window hangers depicting turtles and hummingbirds. There were odd rag dolls made out of fabric and feathers, and lots of hand-woven scarves and rugs and place mats, and some lovely cherry dining room chairs that cost $2,000 each. At least eight different jewelers made silver pendants displayed artfully draped over rocks that all, coincidentally, looked exactly alike and cost the same amount. But the most memorable was one woman who made sweaters. They were quite lovely, knitted by hand in bright colors and with interesting and unusual buttons. I admired one in particular, but then said to my friend, "Uh-oh, it's $400!" The weaver overheard me and asked, "Is that a lot or a little?" I said it seemed like a lot, especially since I already own plenty of sweaters, and not one of them had cost anywhere near that much. She then said, too snootily to ever have me as a customer, that many people actually ask how she can sell her things for so little. "After all," she added, "I raised the fibers myself in a positive home environment."

Honestly, I don't really care how happy or well-fed my clothes were before I got them. I'd buy a sweater made from a depressed sheep if it fit well and kept me warm. As I walked away, the sweater lady said, "If you ever have $400, come back and see me." Somehow I doubt I will.