It’s during my mini-rush that the dragon-lady vendor stops over again and we chat about how she drove from Dallas to be here today. Oi vay! Dallas! That’s like a 12 hour drive. Needless to say, she was working both days of the event. I wasn’t. “Saturday only” for me – I work one day in a craft faire or event quite often. I wasn’t driving all the way back to Santa Fe again on Sunday. I also made sure to make a nice little “One Day Only” sign for my booth. We had taped all the table signs down early on to keep them from blowing away.

The Dallas dragon lady pages through my books at length, and finally decides on the same huge CCJ Celtic design that I started the day with. I decide to try one last time for a trace, and go over the larger knots of the design, wet her skin carefully, see that it’s drying in the wind too fast before I can even get the trace paper on top, wet it again, press it down, then decide to try wetting the trace paper while it’s on the skin from the dry side to see if that will help. Of course, I peel away the paper to nothingness. This time I figure I’m being taught a lesson on relying on anything other than my own talent, and start praying to Lakshmi while I slowly, slowly do the design completely free hand. Having had once to practice, it does go better the second time, and by the time I’m finished, I am pleased with the result.

A couple from New Jersey are the last customers of my mini-rush. They stop to watch and start asking questions and the girl becomes instantly and totally enamored of henna. “I don’t pierce, I don’t have any tattoos, I don’t do anything like that ... but this stuff I can get into! Oh man, I’m gonna be getting this done every couple weeks!” She asks many questions about henna, and I tell her to please take my card and e-mail once she’s back home to help her find a good henna artist in New Jersey. I also make sure she hears my nasty-black-henna rant, since I’ve heard tell of it on the pier out there where she lives.

By the time I finish painting the Jersey girl’s boyfriend, the belly dancers have come out and are entertaining everyone with a short performance. I don’t envy them in their short outfits, it’s still howling winds and cold outside, but the girls look fabulous and it’s nice to be entertained and take a break. Unfortunately, once they finish up the entire crowd (all 50 of them) seems to disperse at once and just like that, the event feels like it’s finished.

Rebecca and I sit around for another hour until it’s about 4:15 and then decide to call it a day. No one is left but the vendors anyhow, and as we pack up the girl who organized this year’s event stops by to thank us for being a part of it and hopes we will consider doing it again next year. Rebecca and I schlep our stuff back to the car and it feels great to get out of the wind and warm up at last. We eat cold burritos on the way home and have a fantastic talk about spirituality. There’s something about driving for long periods to make for really good (or really bad) conversation. My face feels slightly numb and tingly from being wind blown all day, chapped and little tight, but that went away once the chill got out of my bones.

By the end of the day, I count my money and I’m pleased to see I made $135 for the event, that’s three times my vendor fee, and I give Rebecca her cut of the profits, thanking her profusely for all she did. The profits are really quite amazing considering I probably only did about 20 designs all day long. I call my husband from Rebecca’s house and we decide for me to pick up pizza on the way home for dinner. I’m glad to hear our baby was a complete angel for Daddy all day, although I’m envious of the fact that only Mommy seems to get stuck with the teething-from-hell fits.

Pulling up at home, I leave everything but the henna in the car, resolving to unpack it tomorrow, and am greeted by the sweetest smile from our son that you ever did see. I say a prayer of thanks and now that the day is done, and by the time I’ve changed into sweat pants and out of my makeup, I feel just great.

Alissa Hall's mehndi site