News Flash: Rhubarb is not a Hamptons affectation!

Another one of my wrong ideas has been completely blown out of the water. I always thought that rhubarb, and the miracle of eating these unpalatable stems was an affectation of well heeled Eastern people. I don't blame all that much on Martha Stewart, but I have to confess that it is based solely on her reverence for this strange vegetable that I formed these wrong conclusions. My friend Sid (who LOVES rhubarb) informed me of my mistake when she described her Midwestern childhood filled with rhubarb desserts. I will freely admit that I had my suspicions of it all the way up until I put a finished bite of this rhubarb crisp in my mouth.

Now I get what all the fuss is about. Rhubarb isn't about to replace potatoes on my favorite vegetable list, but DAMN! It's good!

Here's Sid doing all my work for me. That's what I love about good friends. You can shamelessly put them to work making you garden beds and crisp. This stem of a vegetable has turned out to be so good it almost makes me think I should grow some cardoon. Anyone had that before? It's like artichokes without the good part.

Look what came in the mail! Life changing pins from Pam at Pam Kitty Morning. I have to admit that my current pins are about a hundred years old and about as sharp as the President.* One thing I have learned from twenty years of sewing is that fine tools make the difference between entering your sewing room with a light step, brimming with creativity and the drive to see your ideas through versus: wanting to smash your sewing machine into a brick wall and then wear the parts around your neck on a string as a macabre battle trophy like a bunch of dried scalps.

I'm pretty excited to try these babies out. Plus, I find the glass heads so irresistibly dainty! Thank you Pam!

Sometimes I want to say things about my own town and some of the interactions with the people in it. I've learned to really look deep inside myself before I report on anything that might get people's backs up or hurt any one's feelings and to control my innate desire to unravel my life with enemies.** It's killing me to not be able to discuss a particular interaction right now that is hovering right on the end of my forked tongue.

Incidentally, Sid tells me I don't say nearly as many questionable things as I think I do on this blog. She may be right about that, but I can't help but shiver with the memory of my ENORMOUS shame at hurting someone local by pointing out how different they are from me in a rather dramatic way, and then, as if that wasn't enough, I go to other people's blogs and inflame the tender feelings of other people's readers. However, being accused (yesterday) of saying "the most cracked out thing" someone has ever heard was actually kind of cool. The anonymous person who said it did so with so little venom, and admitted to being experienced in making cracked out statements themselves that I found I really liked and respected this person. Still, I mean, I'm shaking some people up around here, at least a little.

But that's not ever my intention. I'm not a shock jock. Firstly because I'm not a "jock" at all, and also because that expression always reminds me of Howard Stern who I think is just a gross individual, and who managed not to shock me with his divorce and subsequent dating of a blond, big boobed bunny who most likely didn't start off adulthood with blond hair or big boobs.

I found out yesterday that one of my new card lines, Snow and Graham, is already being carried by Mes Amies up the street. I actually asked the rep more than once if she was sure that no one else in my town was carrying this line. She swore up and down and seven sins to Sunday that no one was. So why should I feel so guilty? As though I had committed some crime? I'm tired of working so hard not to step on other store owner's toes in this way. I mean, I have no desire to repeat merchandise, nor to step on any one's toes. I much prefer to encourage good will and camaraderie with everyone on third street. But I'm tired of making so many efforts and still getting stung and feeling like it's all resting on my shoulders.

I hope more of the store owners on Third street bother to come and see what I'm carrying in my store. So it's a two way street. I was glad to see Naomie from Mes Amies come down to visit, but of course I now feel like scum because of the whole "Snow and Graham" snafu. Plus she informed me that she used to carry the "My mother's buttons" line for a long time (though not now). This tells me we have similar tastes. How much crossover can there be between our stores when hers is a clothing store and mine in a home and personal accessories store?

It makes me want to produce all of my own merchandise so that this will never happen again.

Having a store downtown is a way more political and touchy business than I would ever have imagined. So many mines in the road, so many eyes watching your every move suspiciously. So many people waiting to see if you last or close. Who knows what's in all of their hearts?

Actually, I have to say that there are a few store owners who have been above and beyond helpful and friendly. People who have inspired in me, not a sense of obligation to respect them, but the desire to work with them towards common goals as store owners in a small town. It's never easy being on the bottom rung of a hierarchy, but when you are, you need some allies and I 'm happy that I've been blessed with a few of those!




*My ability to censor my censoriousness is deeply impaired by too little sleep.
**This is more of an exaggeration than a flat out lie.