Mid-morning rain and clouds gave Amana
A dark and dreary tincture. All was grey
Outside Festhalle Barn gates, in Iowa.

“Abandon all wallets,” I heard some say,
“Ye who enter Handworks of Seventeen.”
Was spending the guide who’d show me the way?

Festhalle’s doors slid open. Inside was seen
Beautiful, shiny gear for my tool till.
Hoo boy, was my wallet ‘bout to be lean.

So I figured, “I just won’t pay some bills.”
Others whispered, “The dog house ain’t so bad.
Sofa’s comfy, right?” as they sped downhill.

Hours passed. People had gone silent and mad
For the shiniest, sharpest, most precise
Gear and equipment there is to be had.

The dark sky, as if an opening vise,
Released its grip. The sun broke through. We pooled
To each other’s company, broke the ice

Using shared love for tinkering and tools.
“Did you see her booth? What about his? Theirs?”
Were all it took to make good, fast friends. Fools

All of us there, makers of boxes, chairs,
Chests, and currently for me, a dining
Table, for eating’s been a sad affair.

Lucky for us, great people weren’t hiding.
The amazing, inspiring tools abound
Around the smiths and attendees winding

Through Handworks of 17. So next round,
Get there. Bring your money, and meet great friends
From IG, FB, and ‘course, the farm grounds.

 

Check out the slideshow below for more shots from Handworks 2017

Launch Slideshow