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.

Delectable Jan

After we dropped Jack off in Boston, Jim and I drove the 2 hours West to Brattleboro, Vermont where we spent the weekend.

My trip to Delectable Mountain Cloth to visit Jan Norris inspired this video:

[Note:  I highly recommend clicking on the HD which will take you to vimeo where you can watch the video in high definition.  Otherwise it's a bit fuzzy at full screen.]

Delectable Jan from Susan Elliott on Vimeo.


You can find the Delectable Mountain website here.  You can reach Jan and the staff at Delectable Mountain by phone at (802) 257-4456 or by email at staff@delectablemountain.com  You can follow the shop news on Facebook here.

I've uploaded all the pictures that I used in the video to my Flickr account here.

After my visit, I felt such overwhelming gratitude to Jan that this was the only way I knew how to express it.

She does so much more than buy and sell cloth.

She puts all of herself into what she creates.

She really is everything.  I just love her.

Chincoteague, Virginia

For the past few days I was away on a needlework retreat in Chincoteague, Virginia.  Though the group has been gathering for the past 10 years, this was my first time.

To say I was warmly welcomed is an understatement.  Four days of stitching with no agendas, no classes, and no commitments...sitting in a room filled with talented needlewomen is stimulation enough!

Not to mention the setting...

I couldn't help but wake up a few mornings and head to the beach on nearby Assateague Island to see the sun rise...

Assateague Island is part of the National Park Service and is home to wild ponies and tons of birds.  I didn't see any horses but I did see lots of birds...kingfishers, egrets, great blue herons, etc.

Next year I'll have to take my "birding lens" for my camera.  This year, I was caught quite unawares by the spectacular scenery...

Since we were at the beach, I worked and worked to try to finish that Rainbow Beach Shawl I've been working on for years. (Mine is knitted in Tahki Cotton Classics.)

My friend Carolyn made the same one in muted cotton colors...only difference is she finished hers about two years ago...

And hers is completely finished.  Notice the yarn ends hanging from the end of my shawl?  I still have all those ends to weave in as well as finish the edge.  But I'm close...

Close enough to have our picture taken (thanks Marian).

Spending a few reflective days in such a beautiful environment reminded me of this Gratitude film by videographer Louie Schwartzberg.  

Coincidentally, he's started a 21-Days of Gratitude series and it starts today.  For 21 days we will journey into Gratitude through daily meditations and stunning video and audio presentations.  If you'd like to join in, you may register here.  It's absolutely 100% FREE!

I figure it's a good way to get into the spirit of Thanksgiving.

Happy Monday everyone.

An Clo Mór

The Big Cloth.

Harris Tweed.  The only cloth in the world protected by an Act of Parliament.

The Harris Tweed Act of 1993 ensured that only cloth that fully conforms to the following is entitled to bear the Orb trademark:

Harris Tweed means a tweed which has been hand woven by the islanders at their own homes in the Outer Hebrides, finished in the islands of Harris, Lewis, North Uist, Benbecula, South Uist and Barra and their several purtenances (The Outer Hebrides) and made from pure virgin wool, dyed and spun in the Outer Hebrides.

That means that Mary Ann was the winner of yesterday's post having recognized the trademark from the tweed fabric her parents sold in their business.  I had so much fun reading all of your responses.

Though many of you were correct that the symbol was a globus cruciger, this particular rendering was from the Harris Tweed trademark.



As for the funniest guess...I let Jack decide.  And we both loved Rebecca's response of a papal bowling ball.  I'll be emailing you both to send you a bit of tweed from the Hebrides.

Just a decade ago, the Harris Tweed industry was in decline.  Considered kind of a doddy, old-fashioned fabric worn by stodgy professors and the likes of Miss Marple, Harris Tweed's popularity was suffering and was failing to attract weavers from the younger generation.

A concerted effort was made six years ago, to re-position the tweed brand and revitalize the industry by marketing new, bold colors to the fashion trade and allowing young weavers/designers to design their own patterns.

The result has been phenomenal.  Harris Tweed is winning fashion awards, appearing in luxury boutiques and has been picked up by retailers such as J. Crew, Dr. Marten, Vans and Converse.

And the bright collections are being picked up by young techno-philes for everything from kindle covers to iphone cases.

There have even been Harris Tweed rides.  Not just in Edinburgh and Glasgow (we missed it by one week) but in New York City, London and Tokyo...

Credit: AFPRELAXNEWS

How do I know all this?  Well...when I asked Jack what he most wanted to accomplish when we visited Scotland, he said he wanted to see a circle of standing stones.

I came to discover that there are many standing stones in Scotland but one of the coolest was located on the Isle of Lewis.  And so, I began researching and planning how we might add this island to our trip and began reading all about the history, tradition and production of Harris Tweed.  I began reading the blogs of people who live and croft on the islands.  And I fell in love.

I fell in love with people who were so connected to the land, the animals in their care, and the work that they do.

Without giving too much away, our one day trip to the Isles of Harris and Lewis was, by far, our biggest highlight out of an entire trip of highlights.   It will take me a few posts to get through it all so I'll start here today with Harris Tweed.

We drove for almost two hours to reach the coastal town of Ullapool in Northwest Scotland...



From there we took a 2.5 hour ferry ride to Stornoway on the Isle of Lewis.



We arrived at 12:15pm and rented a car to take us to all the places we wanted to see in the seven hours before we had to get back on the ferry to go home.  I only wish we had had more time there.

I had planned about 20 minutes to zip into Harris Tweed Hebrides, the one place where I knew I could purchase some Harris Tweed.  After all, there was too much see and do to spend much time shopping.

Jim manned the camera while I hunted for cloth...

I've never seen anything quite like it.  

I had pre-shopped the selections online so I had a good idea what I wanted to purchase, a combination of traditional patterns...

As well as brights...

To explain a little why and how I fell in love, I encourage you to watch this video on the land, the weavers, and their cloth...

HARRIS TWEED HEBRIDES from caspar zafer on Vimeo.

What distinguishes Harris Tweed is the number of colors that are spun into each bobbin of yarn.  Wool is dyed before it is spun and then mixed in hundreds of combinations, using anywhere from two to eight colors.

What looks like a "brown" from far away...

Is a complex, rich composition of fibers that reflects the colors of the land from which it comes.

There's a great quote from a weaver at about 5:29 in the video.  He says:

Personally, I like the old school.  I like the darker more earthy colors that reflect...basically, reflect the land, the sea, the heather and just the rough Hebridean colors.  I think they're quite a good match for the Hebridean psyche.  From the beginning to end, the amount of time, effort...and loyalty as well...that's put into this...It's something you won't find in any manufactured cloth.

Amen.   In this culture of mass-produced, de-valued products, isn't it great to know that Harris Tweed endures?  It gives us hope for the world.

But before I go, just quickly click on this video and listen to the song sung by these women on the Isle of Lewis while they are waulking.

Waulking is the process of soaking and rhythmically thumping newly-woven tweed to shrink and soften it.  Recorded in 1970, it's worth watching a minute to two...

Waulking Song from The Wire Magazine on Vimeo.

For more information on the history of Harris Tweed, visit the Harris Tweed Authority's blog here.  To purchase Harris Tweed online, click here.  And to follow Harris Tweed on Facebook, click here.

Next time I'll share more about this land, this cloth and the most beautiful book I've ever seen.

Scotland: The Quiraing, Isle of Skye

Mist-filled, mystical and magical...

The Quiraing was the most amazing, other-worldy place that  I visited while in Scotland.

Located on the Trotternish peninsula on the North Isle of Skye, the Quiraing is a supernaturally beautiful world of ridges, pinnacles, peaks and plateaux.

Created when hundreds of feet of lava rock crushed the softer, older sedimentary rock underneath, causing the terrain to collapse on itself.

The area is still slowly slipping toward the sea...

Requiring annual repairs to the twisting road...

In the timeframe when we visited, the fog was blanketing the ridges and the wind threatened to blow us from the Trotternish Ridge on which we stood...

There's a great hike in this area but we didn't have enough time.

I hope to go back one day so I'm tracking all of that in my Scotland journal...

The Quiraing is one of those areas that are best captured in a panoramic shot.  Lucky for me, my new camera took beautiful panoramic photos.

I was trying to find a way to share it with you so you could see the picture pan across the screen.  

I learned that this is called the Ken Burns effect in an iPhoto slideshow, allowing you to add movement to a still photo.  

It's named after documentary filmmaker Ken Burns who used the effect extensively in his films, giving life and motion to archival photos by zooming and panning around a still photo and splicing it with film.  Who knew?

I share it just in case you were having the same problem today.

I know, I know.  You get such value when you visit here.

Have a magical, mystical day with a Ken Burns effect thrown in for good measure...

Quiraing, Isle of Skye from Susan Elliott on Vimeo.

Liquid Sunshine

The very first Scot we met was the Customs Agent who welcomed us to Scotland and checked our passports.

"Are ye ready for the weather?" he asked.  

We laughed and told him that we had bought waterproof everything before we came...I had even bought a waterproof camera bag.  

That's when he said, "Aye well.  If I can see my two feet in front of me, it's a sunny day in Scotland. Have a nice trip."

We laughed and walked away and boarded the bus that would take us to Edinburgh.  It was raining at the airport but the sun was shining fifteen minutes later when we reached town.

By far, weather was the most common topic of conversation with each Scot we met.  

I lost count how many times someone told me that Scotland was the only place where you could experience all four seasons in one hour.  

Evidently it's true because last Sunday the Scotsman newspaper reported:   SCOTLAND experienced all four seasons in one day yesterday, as the first storm of autumn swept across the country, bringing chaos to the country’s roads.

Having spent two weeks driving all over Scotland and its Western isles, I can honestly say that the weather in Scotland puts on a fabulous show. 

Experiencing weather in Scotland is like watching a cinematic, high-def movie complete with sound effects, wind tunnels and pelting rain.  It changes minute by minute and provides a never-ending spectacle of visual delight.

Scotland's weather is one of its greatest assets.

And the winds that blow off the Atlantic provide fuel to the sky and water...blowing in rain clouds one minute...

And sunshine the next...

Honestly, I could have stood in one spot and the weather would never disappoint.  

The picture below shows me looking to the right as I stood waiting for the ferry from Armadale to Mallaig...

And here's the view I got to my left...

What a palette of blues and grays.  I was never bored and could stand and watch the changing landscape for hours on end.  

The colors created by the play of light and shadow were fabulous.  Gray days made the greens of the hills appear even greener...

And the angle of the setting sun, left the hills all in shadow while the light played with the clouds in the sky...

But it was our tour guide on the Isle of Skye who refused to complain about the mist and drizzle, instead calling it "liquid sunshine".

It was liquid sunshine that made the grass so green and the flowers so beautiful.  And it was liquid sunshine that brought the rainbows...

We saw rainbows everywhere. I was lucky to photograph the one above.  

More often than not, I couldn't get my camera out quickly enough to capture them, having to be satisfied with the bittiest glimpse...

It wasn't until we were settling down for the night in our rental cottage near Drumnadrochit...

That we got the greatest gift of liquid sunshine ever.

It was a double rainbow in the field just outside our house.

This time it wasn't fuzzy or far away.  We ran outside to the fence to get a closer look.

This time we could have walked the 30 yards or so into the field and touched it.  Or so we thought.  

But the fields belonged to the cows. They made that very clear. 

So we just stood back and watched the spectacle in wonder and amazement.

And Jim was smiling from ear to ear and he said, "Now I can see why people would think there is a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow."

Because it looked to us as if a leprechaun had put a pile of stones just over the spot where the gold was buried.

And the cow didn't have a clue.  

Or did she?

It was the first time in our lives that we had been so close to a rainbow let alone one that was so rich in color and dimension.  We recognized it for the gift that it was.

So now we're back in the bonnie state Maryland, the  state with the highest rate of pre-mature deaths due to long-term exposure to air pollution, and back to reality.

I am having a great time recording my trip in my travel journal...though embroidering is slow going.  Today, I'm finding a home page for the Rainbow Cow or should I say, the "Rainbow Coo".

It's not every day that liquid sunshine douses a cow.

See you next time.  I'm off to go for my messages (*wink).