Tag: woodworking

  • Back to the Drawing Board (Again): A Website Update from Dawn

    Back to the Drawing Board (Again): A Website Update from Dawn

    Ever wonder what happens when a former SQL programmer meets WordPress? Well, you get someone who knows just enough to be dangerous — and stubborn enough to keep trying until something works.

    Here’s the honest truth: I’m rebuilding our website. Again. For probably the sixth time this year.

    The Problem (And Why I’m Not Giving Up)

    Our beautiful pieces deserve better than a website where product variations don’t show images. I mean, who’s going to buy a pen when they can’t see what the different wood options actually look like? Nobody, that’s who. And after switching themes to fix one problem, suddenly we’re stuck with black and white everything and a store page that’s acting like a moody teenager.

    The numbers don’t lie either — $30 in online sales over 12 months tells the whole story. Rex is creating incredible work daily, but if people can’t see it properly online, how can they fall in love with it?

    What’s Different This Time

    I’ve switched hosts, I’m learning WordPress and WooCommerce from scratch (again), and yes, I know there are professionals who do this for a living. In fact, I’ve got one lined up for when the grant funding comes through. Until then, it’s me, my former programming brain that keeps expecting SQL logic, and a whole lot of determination.

    The silver lining? I’m getting faster at this. Almost all our existing products are back up and running, and I’m already planning how to showcase new pieces as Rex finishes them.

    What This Means for You

    More new products: Without the constant website emergencies, I can focus on photographing and listing Rex’s latest creations. There’s some amazing work coming out of the shop that deserves to be seen.

    Blog posts might be a bit sporadic: My days are currently split between coding and everything else that keeps Sarkanys Rising running. But I’m going to push Rex harder to share more “day in the workshop” stories because, honestly, his are way more interesting than “Dawn fought with WordPress again.”

    Things will keep moving around: As I figure out what works best, you might notice changes. That’s me making improvements, not breaking things (well, mostly).

    The Real Talk

    My back hurts from hunching over the computer, I dream in CSS code, and sometimes I miss the straightforward logic of databases. But every time I see one of Rex’s pieces — like that walnut pen he spent three hours perfecting yesterday — I remember why this matters.

    We’ve got beautiful work that deserves to be shared with people who’ll treasure it. If that means learning WordPress the hard way while applying for grants daily, then that’s what we’ll do.

    Until Next Time

    Thanks for your patience while I wrangle this website into submission. Keep an eye out for new pieces (they’re coming!), and as always, we’re here if you have questions or just want to chat about wood, resin, or the joys of small business website management.

    Now, back to figuring out why my shopping cart keeps disappearing…

    — Dawn

    P.S. Rex wants everyone to know that while I’m wrestling with pixels, he’s still turning wood into magic. The workshop never stops, even when the website throws tantrums.

  • “Bad Doggie, No Biscuit”: When Festival Magic Meets Umbrella Justice

    Festival Memories That Still Make Us Smile

    Some stories stick with you like sawdust on your work clothes — the kind that make you grin unexpectedly while carving a new piece. This one comes from our Kansas City Renaissance Festival days, complete with haunted houses, umbrella-wielding grandmothers, and legendary laughter. 🎃

    Back When Fairs Had Soul

    Years ago, I was part of a Renaissance festival community — not today’s cookie-cutter corporate fairs, but the genuine article run by the Kansas City Art Institute. The site was seven (7) miles from my home and I still consider KCRF my home faire. Handmade everything, cobbled-together magic, and wonderfully odd theater folk who’d make Monty Python proud.

    During the off-season, we often created haunted houses. Picture classic monsters lurking in carefully crafted scenes, animatronics jury-rigged by creative actors, and an entrance tunnel so disorienting that most visitors missed the first path split entirely.

    The Setup

    Our werewolf friend worked the “sissy path” — the gentler route with fewer jump scares but still plenty of atmosphere. His big moment came after gruesome dioramas: leap from the shadows screaming whatever seemed scariest that night.

    The Legend is Born

    Enter one rainy evening and an elderly Eastern European grandmother, separated from her grandchildren who’d convinced her to brave the maze. Picture old-world elegance: black headscarf, long coat, large umbrella doubling as a walking cane.

    She’d been stoic throughout — no screams, just occasional disapproving tongue clicks at the displays. Completely unflappable.

    Until our werewolf made his move.

    “DINNER!” he roared, leaping toward what seemed like an easy mark.

    Without missing a beat, she swung her umbrella with fencer’s precision — THWACK — right between his eyes.

    In her magnificently stern, accented voice:

    “Bad doggie. No biscuit.”

    Then, with a satisfied “hmph,” she repositioned her umbrella and walked straight to her confused grandchildren.

    The Ripple Effect

    Sound carries in haunted houses.🎃 Every actor heard that moment of umbrella justice, and not one could keep a straight scary face afterward. The howling laughter probably terrified more patrons than our carefully crafted scares.

    Many wished they’d witnessed it (I know I did). Those present were sad they missed giving her the standing ovation she deserved.

    What This Means Today

    Festival folk are strange and wonderful people who collect stories like souvenirs. At Sarkanys Rising, every handcrafted piece carries that same spirit — authentic craftsmanship with unexpected delight.

    When you pick up one of our wooden creations, you’re getting something with soul, made by people who believe in handmade magic. Because the best stories, like the best art, come from real moments that become conversation starters and memory makers.

    These days, when you hear me (Dawn) say “no biscuit” in an unusual accent, you’ll know why. Some moments are too perfect not to carry forward. Will we see you at our first Renaissance Festival this year? Looking forward to making new memories.