Delectable Night at the Museum

The last couple of weeks, I went on a Crazy Road Trip that took me North to meet up with friends.

We had three days of wonder-filled fun which ended at my picking Jack up from school in Boston and driving home.  After 34 hours in a car in a period of one week, my back gave out.  

Right now I'm lying here on my belly with a herniated disk, finally able to arch my back enough to type out this long overdue post.  That'll teach me for turning 50 and thinking I'm still 22.

To take my mind off the pain, allow me to re-live my extra-special expedition with these two brilliantly beautiful women...

Lisa Boni aka Ivory Blush Roses and Allie Aller.

I had never met Lisa so when I heard she would be attending the Slow Stitching Getaway with Allie in New Jersey,  I proposed a road trip adventure and they accepted.

We drove from New Jersey to Brattleboro, making a bee line to Delectable Mountain Cloth.

Driving into town, we were greeted by one of Vermont's quaint covered bridges...

Jan was waiting for us, having just arranged this Spring-born bouquet for our arrival...

We spent the day together; laughing and sharing and shopping and oohing and aahing over all the exquisite cloth.

As the day waned, we headed out for a cup of joe and a trip down the hill...

To the local art museum where Jan's friend had a piece in the current textile exhibition there...

And we carried Jan's cloth with us as we went...

The day was pure bliss and we didn't think it could get much better...until the sun went down and then all bets were off.

It began with dinner at Brattleboro's T.J. Buckley's.  The magic, I mean.

Jim and I had been there for dinner last Fall after we dropped Jack off at school.  It's a super special place.

Tiny...there are only eight tables.  Enchanting...you're seated in a refurbished dining car.



Intimate...Chef Michael cooks in the same room with you and there are only two other staff members.



It's most definitely a place for special occasions...like celebrating with three women whom you admire and don't get to see very often.



The company, the food, the atmosphere...we savored it.  Every bite.  When we left, we were somewhere close to heaven I'm sure.

We floated all the way back to Delectable Mountain Cloth where Jan had to pick up a couple CDs of her music to give to Allie and Lisa.

So imagine it...you've had an amazing meal on top of a day filled with beauty and treasure...and then you walk down the streets of Brattleboro at night and you get to peek through these windows...

Your eyes get wide, your heart beats fast, your breathing quickens...and your insides squeal with delight.

And even though the store is closed, it's not for you!

Because you're with the owner and she opens the door and lets you inside...!



See what I mean?  I had to stop jumping up and down so I could take pictures.

The store was dark but for the window lights reflecting off the whites of the laces and linens, the radiance of the silks, and the luster of the buttons.

I found these quilt blocks made by Jan tucked away on a shelf.  When she pulled them down and spread them out, the three of us smiled aloud.  Each was about 4" square and the fabric combinations were masterful...




Jan pulled out her scrapbooks and began to share.  Her story.

   

The story of the store and how she came to be where she is now. The clippings, photographs, notes, and people...the memories that have all become Delectable Mountain Cloth.

It was magical; a secret passageway to the heart of the store.

It was after Jan had turned off the lights and re-locked the door and we were walking away when Allie captured it perfectly.

"Wow," she said.  "That was like Night at the Museum, wasn't it? Just like Night at the Museum..."

Something extraordinary had come to life after dark that wasn't visible in the light of day.  We had felt it.  I'm sure that the fairies re-appeared after we had gone to set the store to right again.  A magical night at the museum of cloth.

Stores like Jan's don't just happen...they're made.

They're tended and fed.  They're cultivated and curated.

They require bold and brave souls to devote their lives to preserving a trade, to following a call.  I'm sure it's not easy.  Stores like Delectable Mountain Cloth are rare and in constant danger of fading away.

If you haven't been there, you need to go.  And if you can't go...call Jan the next time you need some cloth.

Next post, I'll share what I brought home with me and I'll continue the Road Trip.

Writing this post has almost made me forget the shooting pain in my back and butt.  Almost.

P.S.  In case you missed it, I made a video of Jan and her store and posted it on Vimeo when Jim and I were there last September.  Here's the link.  Make sure you click on HD for high-definition if you're going to watch it full screen; otherwise it's fuzzy.  The music to the video is one of Jan's compositions and my favorite, Falling.

Once there was a tree...

And she loved a kind and generous woman...

And every day the tree would go with the woman wherever she went.

She went to the school where the woman taught and she met all of her students.  She went to the grocery store, to soccer fields, to family parties, to hospitals and to the gym.

Everywhere they went, people noticed the tree and laughed and smiled at the woman and the tree was happy.

As time went on, the tree took on more responsibilities, carrying more and more of the woman's essentials.

The tree was full with the woman’s life...her papers and pens, her books and her money, her gym cards and energy bars, her receipts and the birthday cards that the woman gave to the people she loved.  The tree strained from the load and sometimes felt she might burst at the seams from the effort.  But the tree was strong and loved the woman very much.

And the tree was happy.

Then one day, some bad men who needed money, stole the tree away from the woman and took her far far away.

The woman was very, very sad.  She cried and told the policeman how important the tree was to her...how she was a very special tree, how much she loved her and how she carried the tree with her wherever she went.  They just couldn’t be apart.

The policemen heard how much the woman loved the tree and searched high and low to bring her back to the woman. As the policemen spread the story about the tree through the force, one officer thought he had recognized the tree in a trash dumpster they had inspected earlier that day.  Two policemen went back to the dumpster to see if the tree was there but the dumpster was empty.  The trash truck had already come to haul the tree away.

The policemen got back in their car and went to the landfill where they knew the truck had gone.  There amongst mounds of discarded trash, rotting food, old paint cans and muck, they found the tree.

The policemen drove the tree back to the woman’s house.

When the woman opened her door and saw the tree, she squealed in delight and hugged the tree and thanked the nice officers who found her friend.  The tree shook with joy  as the women held her, feeling safe once again with her friend who she thought she had lost.

And the tree was happy.

And the woman was happy too...

But also sad.

The tree was wounded and hurt and was covered in grime and gook.  And even though the woman knew it wasn’t her fault that the bad men had hurt the tree, she felt guilty anyway and she put the tree away.
 

And the woman stayed away from the tree for a long, long time.

Until one day when a wise and very good friend of the woman got sick.  The woman wanted to do anything to help her friend feel better so she asked her friend what she could do for her.  The wise friend knew exactly what she needed so she asked the woman to get the tree out of hiding and take the tree to where she could be healed.

 

The wise woman felt that the tree was a metaphor for her own aging and wearing body.  Like the tree, she was no longer perfect but was still very much alive and filled with generosity.  She herself has lots to give and so must the tree.

The wise woman knew that the tree was never intended to be put away on a shelf but to be carried and worn...to serve the woman until she was all used up and until her last leaf fell from her limbs.



The tree was so excited to be taken off the shelf and wanted desperately to be part of the woman’s life again.  So she dusted herself off and cleaned herself up as best she could.  She took a soapy bath and tried to scrape the paint and grime from her trunk and branches.

She couldn’t wait for the woman to see her again...

When the woman saw the tree, tears welled up in her eyes, she embraced the tree and clutched her to her chest.  She was so very happy to see her friend again.



And the tree was happy.

[If you are new to this blog, you may not know the background history of this tale.  I made The Giving Purse in 2010 for a fundraising auction.  You can see more pics and read the story of the original purse here.   To here the story of the woman who bought, carried and had the purse stolen, you can go here and listen to her tell it in her own words.]

[For all those who wrote to give ideas on how to clean the purse...I couldn't find a dry cleaner anywhere who would attempt to clean the purse with all those leaves and apples.  Finally this weekend, Jim slowly worked on restoring the purse.  He dipped into water tentatively at first, scrubbing little by little until we were certain that none of the velvets or silks would run.  The result was great and better than any dry cleaner could have done.]

Here's to happy endings and new beginnings...

An Old Friend comes to Visit

When we make something and send it out into the world, it's rare that we are able to hear what happens to it after it leaves our hands.

We can only hope that the time, love and care that we put into our projects will somehow transfer to the receiver.   Maybe, if we're lucky, a bit of osmosis occurs through the cloth and the receiver feels loved.

Today, an old friend returned to my doorstep a little worse for the wear but with quite a story to tell...

Some of you might recognize The Giving Purse.  She was born in 2010 to be auctioned off at a fundraiser to benefit women in need in Howard County, Maryland.  Inspired by The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein, you can read the creation story of the Giving Purse and my letter to the future owner here.

In this audio clip, I introduce you to my friend Maura who ended up winning the purse at auction...


After that night, Maura carried the purse for two years and they went to work creating connections and sharing their magic...




They were quite the pair until one day the purse was taken from her.

She's come back.  Albeit a little shabby...

A bit dirty...

And in need of a little rehab...

Here's the amazing tale of what happened and what it meant to Maura...


There are many elements of this story that I felt were important to capture and share here today.   When the fundraiser organizers named their event, The Power of the Purse, I don't think they realized how powerful a purse could really be.

I am very grateful for Shel Silverstein and his marvelous story, for my hands and my ability to create this purse.  But most of all for my beautiful friend Maura.  I don't think the Giving Purse could have found a more generous spirit with whom to travel.

Now Jim and I are off to figure out the best way to clean her up and get her working again.

Got any ideas?