A New Book Coming…and I’m Writing It! What It’s About and How to Pre-Order

So, I’m writing a book.  For over a year I have been shopping a proposal to publishers.  I knew that I could self publish at any point, but I have wanted to collaborate with a publisher for many reasons, not the least of which is to tap in to a professional editor’s expertise in helping to make the book  something that will best serve my audience and that will have a viable distribution channel.   One publisher told me that the proposed book was too broad for their niche.  Another publisher told me it was too niche for their broad audience.  Fortunately, like Goldilocks, I found a match that was just right in Down East Books, headquartered in Rockport, Maine (yes, I know the image says Camden, but trust me on this), which is an imprint of Rowman & Littlefield in Maryland.

This book is both in itself, and is about, the realization of dreams.  I learned to read when I was three.  My mother always said I was two but I’m adding a year to that to make up for a possible exaggeration on her part.  I mean, maybe?  But no matter.  I started writing stories at about age five, drawing pictures to go with them.  I remember one in particular was titled, “The Foggy Frog.”  I collected frogs, the toy and figurine type, although I played with real live toads on the regular outdoors on the edge of the southern NJ Pine Barrens where I grew up.  I remember the pictures I drew.  I could recreate them even today.  By the time I was twelve I knew I wanted to publish books of my own.  I was twelve over forty years ago.  In the intervening four decades I had stopped listening to the inner me who wanted to write, make art, play music, and have a creative career.  People who meet me today think I’ve been working in the creative economy my entire life, but it’s only been since 2014 that I’ve worked in fiber art full time.  By the time my new book is published it will be 2020.  I will turn fifty-five years old in 2020.  I want you to hear something loudly and clearly in this:  it is never too late to realize a dream.

The working title of this book is,  Seasons at the Parris House: Heritage Skills for a Contemporary Life.  I have no idea at this moment whether or not that will be the title on the front of my book when it is released in 2020 but it captures the essence of what it is about.  Let me take an excerpt from my proposal to explain the vantage point from which I approach this project:

“When I was thirty five, eighteen years ago, my husband and I moved ourselves and our four then-little sons from the urban/suburban Princeton, NJ area, a region in which we had spent our entire lives, to rural Western Maine.  We went from a 1950s mid century modern cape on a suburban lot to a two hundred year old Federal home and barn in a National Historic District. Our new neighbor across the street had a cow in the backyard, much to our young sons’ amusement.   I was a stay at home mother with a degree in Business Administration/Marketing from the University of Delaware. I had, prior to becoming an at-home mom, worked in market research and in procurement and project management for a large defense contracting company on busy Route 1 in NJ.  I didn’t garden, I didn’t hook rugs, I didn’t keep chickens or bees, I had no idea how to can food. Upon arriving to the Parris House, I noticed that our apple trees looked like they needed some attention, but I had no idea what to do. Sometimes I baked. But it seemed as though almost everyone around me in my new home was proficient in at least one heritage skill, whether they were my age or old timers, and I thought, “That’s amazing.  I need to learn these things too.” That was the beginning of my journey of bringing heritage skills into my own life, without a big farm, without a lot of formal training, but rather learning them the way the people around me had learned them: the passing on of knowledge, often inter-generationally, from one human being to another.”

That was my situation upon the realization of one of my most fervent dreams to that point, which had been to move to rural Maine and raise my sons here.  What I know now is that the desire to work with my hands, create something out of nothing, grow and preserve food, keep animals and insects, and “practice heritage skills,” was not unique to me.  In the nearly two decades I have lived here in Maine and collected a new skill set, the yearning for these skills among the general population has only increased, including among people living in urban areas and people with little to no land at all to work with.  I tell people all the time that none of this is rocket science, but they often seem skeptical.  They seem to believe that heritage skills are complicated, mysterious, or beyond their reach.  They are not, and this book is for anyone who wants to make a start toward learning them.

I have always enjoyed the juxtaposition in my own life of living in a two hundred year old home in a National Historic District while always embracing the newest technology I could afford.  At the Parris House we have smart phones, smart lights, and smart thermostats.  This laptop I’m writing on right now, not to mention the fact that I use it to run a business that’s about 90% online, is a technological godsend.  We also have centuries old windows with wavy glass and completely pesticide free growing practices.   I dye wool in pots on top of a vintage gas range…and then sell that wool to anyone literally in the world who wants it via the internet.  You don’t have to live like Laura Ingalls on the prairie to embrace heritage skills, and you don’t have to completely forsake the solid methods of our ancestors to live a contemporary life.  Mix it up.  Make some dreams come true with it all.

The book will take you through the four seasons at the Parris House.  It will take a look at the historical contexts of the place, people who went before us, and lifestyle behind what we do here today.  Each season will have fiber art projects, recipes, growing tips, fun things for you to try yourself.  You do not need a farm.  You do not even need a lawn for some of these projects.   They will require no super specialized equipment, impossible to source ingredients, or secret codes to unlock. They will be simple, but not insult your intelligence.  Each featured project or recipe will result in something valuable, beautiful, and/or delicious but without unnecessary complication.  Many will be starting points or stepping stones to get you on your way to a deeper study of whatever it is you find you are most interested in.

It will have beautiful pictures, because I’m a visual person and I’m going to be taking lots of beautiful pictures for this project.

It will be a working book.   While I hope to make it visually inviting, it is not meant to sit on the coffee table or the shelf.  It is meant to be out and open on your kitchen counter or table, in your craft area, or even outside with you, as a reference and companion for the projects it contains.  Get it dirty, dog ear the pages, use the hell out of it.

For me personally, this book will be a grateful acknowledgment of Maine, of Paris Hill, and of the Parris House.  Without this setting, I would be a different person living a very different life.  That aspect will be strongest to me alone, though, because this book is really written for and focused on you in your place and in your life, be it urban or rural, east coast or west or somewhere in between, in North America or well beyond.

By the time this book is published, we will be gearing up here to offer seasonal quarterly retreats at the Parris House which will provide hands on experiences in fiber art and heritage skills, which will provide more learning opportunities for those who want to expand their making and doing.

Sound interesting?  I was brand-new-author-thrilled when I saw that Rowman & Littlefield had already put up a pre-order page for the book.  You can click on that HERE.   Please remember that publication is not scheduled until 2020.  In the meantime, I’m working hard!

If you would like to keep up to date on everything that’s planned for the next chapter (pun intended), a sign up box for our newsletter is at the bottom of every page of the website.  You will never be spammed.  In fact, the newsletter needs to publish a bit more often (as time allows…or doesn’t…).

For a glimpse of the Parris House homestead, enjoy the pics in the slideshow below.

That’s the big news from here.  Thank you for reading.  – Beth

 

Hooking & Heritage Skills Lessons, On Your Terms

Want to learn to hook?  Already hook and want to learn more?  Or maybe you’d like to learn some other heritage skill?

I recently had a student call the studio and say, “I want to learn to hook, but I want to make my own pattern.  Can you teach me to do that all in one lesson?”  The answer was, “Of course!”  

We will be listing some new regularly scheduled courses for 2019, but maybe you’d like a custom experience too, scheduled at your convenience.  At the Parris House in the National Historic District of Paris Hill, Maine, we teach rug hooking (beginner and specialty topics), wool dyeing, needle felted sachet making, cold process soap making, beginner rug hooking design and pattern making, and more.  If there’s something you’d like to learn, get in touch with us and we’ll make it happen. 

Art, craft, and homesteading classes make great:

friends & family activities

holiday gifts

bridal party or groomsmen gathering activities

birthday celebrations

experiences for college and school students of all ages

special self care treats 

inter-generational learning opportunities

We can create a custom experience at the two century old historic Parris House just for you or your group where you can leave with a memento of the occasion, be it hand crafted soap, a beautiful sachet pillow, a hooked mug rug, plus a new shared pastime. 

To arrange a Parris House learning experience, contact us to get the process started.  We look forward to introducing you to something new!

 

Learning to Trust the Journey – Four Days on the Schooner J&E Riggin

The J&E Riggin in her home port at Rockland, Maine, shortly before we boarded.

As many of you know, I was aboard the Schooner J&E Riggin for four days last week as an organizer and facilitator of 207 Creative‘s Get Hooked at Sea event.  I am sure we’ll do a blog post for the 207 Creatives website or Facebook page on the trip as a hooking retreat and workshop, however, this post is about my personal experiences and insights.  This was my first time on a large sailing vessel, seeing my beloved Maine from an entirely different vantage point and I can honestly say I am changed.  This post is about that.

A bit about the J&E Riggin…

The J&E Riggin is a two masted schooner, 89 feet long (not including the bowsprit), over 20 feet wide, built in New Jersey in 1927 as an oyster harvesting boat on the Delaware Bay.  For its complete history you can go to the beautiful website its owners, husband and wife co-captains Jon Finger and Annie Mahle, have lovingly put together at www.mainewindjammer.com.  One of the most striking things about this schooner is how immaculately restored and maintained it is, in incredibly authentic condition.  It does not have onboard power save for the sails.  When becalmed or when in need of maneuvering in the harbors, it is propelled by a small yawl boat Captain Jon built by hand himself.   The yawl boat is a work of art in itself.  When it’s time for the anchor to be raised, no auxiliary power is employed.  It is raised by the muscle of around four crew and/or volunteers with a gear and lever apparatus.  I tried it.  It’s hard work.  At night, the boat is lit mostly by kerosene lantern.  All of Captain/Chef Annie’s world class meals are prepared in a tiny galley kitchen on a wood burning cook stove.  Annie is a Culinary Institute of America graduate, cook book author, and celebrity chef (she may demur at that last thing, but let’s face it – she is) who has let none of this affect her completely down to earth, generous, and kind demeanor.  The food is…incredible.  Captain Jon, aside from being the captain of our journey, is also an accomplished watercolor artist, musician, and more.  Jon and Annie are the devoted parents of two daughters who were raised, in part, on the Riggin.  Back at home, they keep bees and chickens, and they garden.  Quite a bit of the farm fresh ingredients that made their way in to our meals were from Jon and Annie’s homestead.

The J&E Riggin as she is today is the result of loving stewardship that respects her age, history, and heritage and my respect for Captains Jon and Annie and their equally wonderful crew of five is boundless.  These are hard working people who make their guests not only feel welcome, but feel as though they become a part of the J&E Riggin family in a few short days.

Chef Annie explaining the fine art of eating oysters to the uninitiated. These were, by the way, the very best, sweetest, freshest oysters I’ve ever eaten.

We see a lot of messages in our social media feeds that go something like this:  “Trust the journey.”  “It’s not the destination that matters, it’s the road there.”  “Live in the present, the future is not guaranteed.”  As a fiber art teacher I also often encourage my students to enjoy the process and remain open to the outcome that results, rather than holding an expectation concretely during the making.  At the Squam Art Workshops, where I taught for two years, “process over product” was a mantra.  Indeed, on our Get Hooked at Sea retreat aboard the Riggin, not a single one of us finished our lovely project guided by teacher Maggie Bonanomi, but we were fine with that.  It was about the process, the making, the camaraderie, and we will share our final products with one another over the coming months.  On the J&E Riggin, this concept becomes very literal.  One morning I asked Captain Jon where we were going that day.  He said, “I don’t know!”  And he meant it.

The J&E Riggin’s usual sailing territory for guests is in Maine’s Midcoast Penobscot Bay, approximately between Boothbay and the Acadia area.  Where she sails on any given day is determined by the wind and weather.  Every trip leaves from Rockland, which, as an aside, is my favorite town in Maine.   Rockland is central to those two approximate sailing boundaries and the weather will determine which way Captain Jon takes the Riggin.  It is a “sail to nowhere” and yet, it is very much a sail to somewhere.

For me, that somewhere was a place of revelation.  One comical revelation was that, in spite of not being able to ride in the back seat of a car without turning green, I can be a passenger on a schooner in open water and not feel a single twinge of seasickness.  My bag was packed with a tub of crystallized ginger and two boxes of Dramamine but neither proved necessary.

Other revelations were more serious.  One was how very badly I had needed a trip just like this one, a trip with no set destination and with very limited connection to the news, the internet, and the demands of my every day business life.  Another was my need to spend time with creative and energetic people.  This trip was shared with creative people all around: captains, crew, and guests, who were pursuing something meaningful to them upon which they each made their individual imprints.  The crew, four young men in their twenties and one woman around my age, I believe, were phenomenal examples of extremely gifted people sharing their gifts in ways most people only dream of.  Captains Annie and Jon were unwittingly providing to me an example of sincere and exemplary hospitality that I know I will use as a reference point when we open the Parris House to retreat and workshop guests in 2020.   They refer to their relationship with the J&E Riggin as one of stewardship, not ownership, which resonates with me as we have never claimed ownership of the 200 year old Parris House either.  You can only steward these great old entities while it is your time.  They predate and outlive us if all goes well.

Related was the revelation of just how much I require freedom and space over my life and over my time.  There is a tremendous feeling of freedom when you are a guest on a schooner in the big Penobscot Bay.  I can only speak as a guest because I was well aware of the constraints the captains and crew were under as they make sure every detail of the trip is attended to for us.  As a guest, however, I was able to make the mind blowing observations regarding the power of the wind, the vastness of the ocean (especially when it looks so big, yet we’d not even left the bay), and how small my favorite landmarks looked along the shore.  My perspective on everything was turned upside down/inside out when I was looking at places I’d only seen from land from out on the water.  I realized that there are so many things I’ve never seen before and will probably never see in this lifetime, and with that realization came the knowledge that I had better choose very carefully how I spend my remaining years.  I booked another trip on the Riggin for my husband and myself in 2019 halfway through our voyage.

Fog hanging over the harbor off Warren Island State Park

And then there is just the overall awareness that we do not have to, in fact usually we can not, know our destination for much of our journey in this life.  Our daily journeys, led by Captain Jon, always ended in some beautiful harbor, in fair weather or foul, expected or unexpected, with limited control over the destination because of zero control over the weather.  On the journey, the captain controls what he can in the context of what he can’t.  Sometimes the sailing is relatively blind.  On the first day under sail we were treated to a fog bank.  We could see it on the horizon when we set out and within about an hour we were engulfed in it.  Visibility was low.  The J&E Riggin’s fog signal rang out in to the bay.  Sometimes we could see other vessels just within our visible range, looking like ghost ships.  Other vessels a little further off would have been invisible.  The J&E Riggin is equipped with modern GPS, radar, and radio communication.  It is also equipped with an experienced captain.  Therefore, we were never in danger although we could not see.  It is often human nature to fear when sailing blind, when we don’t know what’s next, but it is actually the essential nature of our lives.  Uncertainty of outcome is a given as long as we can not bend time to see our futures.  What choice do we have when rising in the morning but to answer the question, “Where are we going today?” with “I don’t know!”

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m a list maker, a planner.  I chart out every day, every week, every to-do list.  I make plans and try to follow them.  I act with intention on what I can when I can if not doing so would lead to perceived disaster.  Examples are how I conduct my dearest relationships, my health, my business, my class preparations, my writing, my home.  But those four days as a guest aboard the J&E Riggin persuaded me to loosen the parameters on my life and make time and space for more experiences like that one.  The world will not stop turning if I can’t answer an email within fifteen minutes.   Spending half a day hiking my favorite mountains here in Western Maine might inspire more art pieces and workshop ideas than working away at my desk on something seemingly important but with, in the long run, a weaker return on time invested.  On the Riggin there is a truly beautiful efficiency to everything, and I do mean beautiful.  Nothing is out of place, everything is immaculate, all details and contingencies are planned for, and the result is pure elegance of experience, and yet…uncertainty in destination is not only acknowledged, it is celebrated.  What an example for living.

Here is a slideshow of our trip for your enjoyment.  If you would like to book the trip of a lifetime on the Schooner J&E Riggin go to the website at www.mainewindjammer.com.  Reservations for the 2019 season are being taken now.   For those wondering if we’re working on another Get Hooked at Sea trip, the answer is “Yes!  We are!”  So please watch for posts about that as we figure out the details and timing.

 

 

 

 

An Informal Video Tour of the Work Studio at the Parris House

Something a little different for this post…

I haven’t gotten a lot done this week because I’ve been recovering from a very nasty ankle injury, but I had a friend suggest that a video tour of the work studio might be interesting to some people, especially the makers out there. I shot this with my cell phone, so it looks like a FB live, not wide screen. This is not a magazine shoot ready working space. In fact, it’s extremely functional. We’re planning to paint it this summer when I’ll probably be doing some beautifying for it, but right now it gets the job done. I hope this is an encouragement to those out there working out of spaces that do not look like a magazine spread (although I plan to have one some day!), and for people building viable businesses where they are with what they have. Oh, and Wyeth’s in it and he’s pretty cute.

I am just getting my feet wet in making video and populating our YouTube channel, but if you’d like to never miss a video (some of them are how-tos and instructional) you can subscribe to the channel HERE.  

Happy watching and happy hooking.  – Beth

Confessions of a Recovering Workaholic, Part 1

Wyeth feels no guilt about relaxing at our lake cottage, Sunset Haven.

I have recently had to face the hard truth that I am a workaholic, and if you are too, you might want to read up here, because that life is not sustainable.  You might think it is, but it’s not.  Really.  It’s not.

As those who have been following my social media know, I have been reading and doing the exercises in the book The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron since the beginning of the year.  I just finished week ten, of twelve.   Week ten is really heavy on recognizing workaholism not only as an addiction or compulsion, but as a fear based way of living.  What makes us slide over the line in to workaholism?  Why do we think we have to be “on” 24/7/365 to succeed?

If you’re a small business owner I can already hear you, with some justification, saying, “Well, that’s just what it takes.”  To some extent, you’re right, especially if you are your small business, or at the very least, you are the one responsible for driving sales and growth.   It’s hard to ever totally shut off when there’s no guaranteed external paycheck, when you either make the sales, bring in the new students and customers, finish the custom orders, meet the shipping deadlines, pay attention to your social media and marketing, or else you don’t pay the bills.  If you have employees or contractors the pressure is even higher, because part of paying the bills is making payroll.  I get that and I know it can be overwhelming.  Kicking back for a day, or a week, or if you’re really burned out, a lot longer, can seem like professional suicide.  But, I have discovered something else that’s professional suicide:  overwork, overwhelm, and burnout.

So, I took the Chapter 10 workaholic quiz in The Artist’s Way and failed spectacularly, in that, I was guilty of every common marker for the problem.  No, I haven’t been taking at least one day a week off.  No, I don’t take vacations.  Yes, I do put off my family and friends because I “have to work” or I “have a deadline.”   Yes, I do cancel non-emergency preventative medical appointments because I’m “too busy.”   Yes, sometimes I realize I have not left my studio in three or four days because I’m trying to get it all done.  No, I don’t take myself on what the book calls “Artist’s Dates.”  Yes, I do blow off yoga and hiking and time in the woods and on the water because I “just can’t find the time.”  Yes, I “forget to eat.”  I could go on, but you get the idea, and some of you – I know that some of you – are living this way too.

Just stop.

Let’s go back to why we do this to ourselves.  We’ve already addressed that there is a baseline reality to some need for very hard work:  we are under tremendous pressure to pay our bills, make our deadlines, and pay the people who may be working for us or providing materials to us.  But do we really have to go this far down the workaholic rabbit hole to make that happen?  I’m taking the leap to find out, but more on that later.

The “why”s go beyond the very real financial and logistical pressures.  One “why” is overwhelmingly cultural.  Here in the United States we are raised (or were – I think it’s improving with subsequent generations) to believe that our value is not in who we are, but in what we can do, what we can produce.  We are an independent, bootstrapping, hyper productive, entrepreneurial culture of powerhouses….right?  Our heroes embody rags to riches stories.  We worship celebrities because of how they look and how large a venue they can fill, without ever knowing who they are.  We elect politicians not for the content of their character but for the alleged quantity in their bank accounts, because that’s how we define success.  Look, I have no objection to anyone becoming wealthy in America.  In fact, I applaud it if it is done in an ethical way that contributes to that person’s family and community, and I wouldn’t mind making it happen for me and my family.  What I object to is the metrics by which we value human beings in this culture and the way it drives us not only to work excessively and compulsively, but to work ineffectively and in ways untrue to who we are.

For some of us, another “why” is closer to our homes.  Perhaps we were raised by people who cared little about who we were as human beings and more about who they could mold us to become, either in their own image or according to some ideal in their minds.  (I regard that lack of acceptance and freedom as child abuse, but that’s a whole ‘nother blog post.)  These parents might appear well meaning, but the message they ultimately send is this:  you are not enough as you are, you can not be trusted to shape your own life and path, you are not what we expected and therefore are somehow disappointing.  It is no surprise that people raised in environments like this lack confidence, have trouble making decisions right for themselves, become people pleasers to their own detriment, and yes, try to compensate by working themselves too hard in order to prove their value.  It may not always be parents who cause this crisis of authentic identity and self worth.  It may be a highly critical teacher or role model.  It might be peers who are bullies.  It might be an abusive partner.  All of this is addressed magnificently in Elizabeth Gilbert’s book, Big Magic, and without practicing psychotherapy without a license, I try to touch on this a bit when I teach my design class, Yes, You Are & Yes, You Can.

I have been living the workaholic life for at least the past fifteen years, but probably longer.  I started my ten year career in real estate in 2003.  Every good real estate broker knows the drill, or at least, what the drill might be if you’re a workaholic and insecure about making and being “enough”:  take calls at all hours of the day and night, show property on weekends, nights, and holidays, travel to anywhere your client needs you to to execute documents (although this is better in the age of Docusign, unless your client isn’t computer literate),  climb in every nook and cranny of every house, barn, attic, basement you show,  stand over open septic tanks breathing it all in, walk land during hunting season hoping your blaze orange jacket is enough, on and on and on.  My clients loved me. I was very well regarded in the field.  And here’s the punch line in real estate brokerage.   You’re an independent contractor, you have no benefits, and you don’t get paid unless the sale closes.  Many of those failure-to-close factors you have zero – and I mean ZERO – control over.  It’s stressful, sometimes lucrative, sometimes very not lucrative, and many people burn out.  After ten years, I did.  Spectacularly.  So what did I do?

I started my own business and carried those same workaholic habits right in to it.  Duh.  And with those habits have come some serious mental and physical health issues I now have to attend to, the need to work on improving relationships and friendships I have neglected, and a real subversion of my own creativity, because no one can create when the proverbial well is dry.

I’m done.

No, I’m not done with Parris House Wool Works.  On the contrary, I have big plans for Parris House Wool Works and for myself in a variety of arts.  However, I am done working all the time.  I am done not having a life outside of my business, and I am done thinking that who I am is so inextricably tied to what I can produce.  What does this look like in practice?

Well, I’ve taken the past two weekends almost completely off.  This weekend my husband, Bill, taught our soap class (which was delightful, by the way; we get the best students) and then we came down to our lake cottage, Sunset Haven, which is where I am writing this from today.  (No, blogging is not work for me.)  Unlike many times we are at Sunset Haven, we are not cleaning it for the next Airbnb visitors.  There was a rare gap in the rental calendar and we can just spend time here for ourselves this weekend.   We went to a cafe this morning and had breakfast, and then we did something unheard of for us:  we mindlessly walked around the Maine Mall, got a lilac scented candle (our own lilacs won’t bloom until well in to May), got some coffee, and came back to the cottage.   My husband is catching up on our personal finances and I’m blogging, lakefront.  It’s a winter wonderland here, the lake is still mostly frozen, and in a little while I’m going to take Wyeth for a long walk on the camp roads.  That doesn’t exactly sound like a Hawaiian luxury vacation, I realize, but this is a major departure for us.   It’s a first step.

What will this look like going forward?  I don’t know.  That’s why this post is titled “Part 1,” because I plan to keep our readers informed on how this lifestyle change is going.  I’m doing the journaling of this for me, I admit, but I’m also doing it for those of you following along who are also burning yourselves out in your own businesses or careers, or who are in danger of doing so.

What are you doing to take care of yourself this weekend?  How will you give yourself the time and space to approach your work this coming week well rested and fresh?  If you have been to the land of burnout, how did you recover?  How are you doing now?  Feel free to comment below.

Have a wonderful Sunday.  – Beth

 

 

 

 

 

 

Have You Signed up for the 2018 Belfast Hook In in Belfast, Maine? Read On for Details…

This is a reblog from www.207creatives.com.  If you don’t follow the blog over there, please do!

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

We’ve been fielding a lot of questions about when this year’s Belfast Hook In would be and about how to sign up.  Here are the answers!

This year’s event will take place on Saturday, April 28th, 2018 from 9 am to 3 pm.  We will be gathering again at the First Church of Belfast, 8 Court Street, Belfast, Maine.

me and my hoopWe are so pleased to announce that this year’s guest speaker is Doreen Frost of Vermont Harvest Folk Art!  She will be speaking on The Art of Punch Needle Embroidery.

Doreen’s full bio can be found here, but she is an accomplished folk artist and author from Pawlet, VT who creates marvelous designs and finished pieces in punch needle embroidery.  This is a different art than punch needle rug hooking, instead using fine fiber threads and very fine punch needles.   We are looking forward to hearing her speak about her inspirations, her art, and her techniques.  She will also be available for questions and have materials for sale if you are already a maker in this craft or would like to become one!  Please visit her site at http://www.vermontharvestfolkart.com for more information and a look at her beautiful and original artwork.

As before, we will have an informal rug show and our breakfast and lunch will once more be provided by the friendly chefs of For the Love of Food and Drink.   We will have vendors and door prizes, and of course, lots of wonderful camaraderie as we gather again to celebrate our heritage craft.

Ready to sign up?  You can find and print the registration form here, or, contact us at 207creatives@gmail.com, or, call Beth Miller at 207-890-8490.   Need a flyer to rally your friends?  Click here.  In response to feedback from last year’s event we are capping attendance at 96 this year, so please register soon!  Registration is $38 before March 1st, $40 thereafter.  Registration deadline is April 21st.

 

What’s In Your Blueprint?

This blog post has been taking shape in my mind for weeks.  There have been so many catalysts but I have not been able to quite put it all together until now.

As those who follow my social media may know, I’ve been working my way through the book, “The Artist’s Way” by Julia Cameron since the beginning of the year.  I still have three and a half weeks to go with it and I already know that I’ll need to repeat the material to get maximum and ongoing benefit.  There’s just so much to work with.  But, so far, it’s been an amazing and eye opening journey in identifying and working through creative blocks, and learning more about why we often stray from our heart’s direction.

I have also been working through a program with life and business coach Mike Iamele, who is right down in the Boston area but works with clients all over the world.  One of the many things Mike invites us to do is discover five or six words that really capture our essence, the who we are that we bring to every venture, every relationship, every part of our lives.

These two experiences so early in the year have helped me to take knowledge that seemed intuitive and break it down in to the “why” of my evolution and direction in my business and my life overall.

To put it concisely, we are all here to do our own thing, and if we try to do someone else’s thing, it’s not going to work out very well for us or for anyone else in our lives.  It’s as if we are all built from a completely unique blueprint, and if we stray too far from our inherent design, we fail.   Like a structure built by lazy or inept carpenters, we eventually break down if the blueprint isn’t carefully and respectfully followed.  Who the architect of our blueprints is is a question best left to philosophers, scientists, and theologians, but I no longer have any doubt that the blueprints exist.

No one can read your blueprint as well as you can.  In fact, it’s probable that no one can read your blueprint at all except you.  Others will say they can, and they will attempt to push you in a direction that follows their idea of what your blueprint is or should be.  Don’t let them.  They may be well meaning, or they may have an agenda to use your gifts for their own benefit more than yours.  Either way, just say “no.”

I have been dialoging recently with book publishers, who I have learned know a great deal about individual blueprints.   In one conversation with a publisher, we both sensed that his publishing house and my proposal were not a great fit for one another.  Why?  Because in order to make my book work for his press, I would have needed to strip away a good deal of its essence, a major aspect of it that made it what I call “heart work” for me, and even he did not recommend I do that.  In speaking with the publisher who is much more likely to work with this project, that aspect of the proposal is not only fine, it’s desired.  On a second project, one that came to me unexpectedly, the book editor said to me, in so many words, “Only you can write this book,” going on to explain that every author can only write the thing that’s in her heart to write, and if she tries to write something else, it never works.  It literally makes for an unsuccessful book.

The business model for Parris House Wool Works is not what may have been expected by anyone on the outside, even though had I been brave enough to truly follow my blueprint from day one, it might look even more unconventional.  In a conversation with a friend today, we spoke about the differences between my studio and another we are both familiar with.   These differences are not good or bad, they’re just differences.  We are working with different blueprints.  As a result, some people prefer this other studio to mine, and some people prefer mine to that one, and that is something I actually love to see play out.  It means that the people who come to my studio are the people who belong there.  One of the most frustrating things a business owner can do to herself is try to be right for everyone.  Not only is it impossible, it stunts growth because energy is wasted trying to please those for whom your offerings, those things driven by your particular blueprint, are just not a good fit.  Like the publisher who doesn’t fit with my book proposal and vice versa, not every customer, student, client, whatever the relationship is, is meant to be yours.

The very best opportunities I’ve had in this adventure have come from following my own blueprint: my affiliation with Beekman 1802, teaching at the Squam Art Workshops and other amazing venues in New England, working with Making Magazine, doing some major commissioned work, and more.  All of these things have felt absolutely right and in keeping with who I am and what I want to achieve as an artisan.

Whenever I align my life and work with my blueprint, things fall in to place; not without hard work and careful attention, but they do come together.  When I do something because someone else thinks it’s a good idea for me, because I feel obligated, because this is what’s expected, or because “this is how it’s always been done,” I am less successful.  Additionally, when I crowd my days with too many things, leaving little time to reflect on and sense my best direction, I do poorly.  The blueprint is clear and uncluttered.  It is in our best interest to read it.

What’s in your blueprint?  Feel free to share a time, experience, or opportunity that felt true to who you are and what is in your heart to do.

 

 

An Idea for Coming Years

Here at the Parris House we are almost-empty-nesters.  All of our sons are grown, but our second son, James, is temporarily home teaching biology and environmental science at a nearby private school before he makes a big and permanent move to Canada.  Our oldest son, Robert, is getting married in September and has been living in the Philadelphia area for years now.  Our two undergrads, Peter and Paul, are always doing co-ops, internships, and research with profs during the summers and no longer come home except for holidays and short visits.  Upon graduation from college, they will have permanently flown the nest also.

As it has for many empty nesters living in old houses like ours, it has occurred to my husband, Bill, and I, that a five bedroom, four bath, approximately 5000 square foot, 200 year old house and barn – no matter how well loved and historic – is an awful lot for two people to wander around in.  The options become many.  Downsize?  Make the addition in to an apartment for visiting family and Airbnb guests?  Or something else?

There is a lot to be said for keeping the Parris House.  We like our neighborhood (most of the time…), we love the history of the house and we feel responsible for stewarding that.  We raised a pretty happy family here and would like to give our future grandchildren the benefit of visits to “where Dad grew up.”  It is a significant but not insurmountable thing that Parris House Wool Works is named for this location.  Both my public and private studios are in this complex of buildings, the former in the main house and the latter over the garage.  My husband’s pottery studio (Sunset Haven Pottery) is established in a finished, heated section of the barn, with the kilns conveniently next door in the garage.  We have very good locations for our chickens, bees, and organic garden.  We have enough apple trees to produce an abundant crop without so many that they are another big job to do.  We are not down a long driveway, nor are we secluded, which, for me at this stage of life are drawbacks, but perhaps when I am 80 or 90 could be beneficial.

Perhaps the biggest factor in favor of keeping it is that my husband is a very change averse human being by nature.  While I am always up for a move, an adventure, a big change, a “let’s chuck this all in and…,” he is decidedly not.  The move from his home state of NJ to Maine was a very big deal for him, and moving from our home now of eighteen years to another, even if smaller, easier to manage, much cheaper to heat, and closer to work for him (but probably not newer – just not a big fan of non-antique homes), does not seem to appeal.

We have had a great deal of success with Airbnb for our Little Sebago Lake cottage, Sunset Haven.  Several years ago I put together a small, exclusive hooking retreat there over a September weekend and I do believe a good time was had by all.  We had a guest teacher, we went on a nature walk, we hooked, we ate lobster, and we laughed a lot.  As Airbnb Superhosts, we get a lot of email from Airbnb.  Recently we learned that some hosts do Airbnb Experiences, which are value added stays at some of the destinations.  Hosts provide a class, an activity, a tour of the area, or something similar as part of the stay.  It’s an intriguing idea and not unlike ideas that have occurred to me in the past for both Sunset Haven and the Parris House.

When we first purchased the Parris House the most common exclamation from our friends back home was, “You could have a B&B!,” to which our most common answer was, “Hell, NO!”  But there’s a compromise solution in there somewhere between a full time B&B and a set of lovely rooms and bathrooms sitting empty and gathering dust.

Currently the upstairs at the Parris House looks like it houses four young men, because that’s what it’s been doing for the past eighteen years.  But with the application of fresh paint, some careful vintage furniture shopping (I’m looking at you, My Sister’s Garage), and a program of wonderful weekend activities along with home cooked meals (thank you, Parris House hens, bees, and gardens), a retreat center could easily take shape.   Bill and I are both Registered Maine Guides and beekeepers, he is a Reiki Master, soap maker, chicken keeper, and a potter (when he’s not at his professional job as the Controller for a Lewiston firm), and, obviously, I am a fiber artist, gardener, and hopefully by then, a published author.  Together we have a skill set that could keep guests entertained and relaxed for a weekend away, and it would also be imperative to bring in guest teachers for additional class offerings.  During non-class or activity hours, guests could assist with the daily tasks of gathering eggs and picking vegetables, take a turn in the beehives, pick apples, light the wood stoves, or, alternatively, they could do none of these things and simply knit, hook, read, or go out and sight see.   Click through the slideshow below to see some scenes from the Parris House and Paris Hill Village.

For skiing we are close to Sunday River, Shawnee Peak, and Mount Abram ski areas.  Hiking and trail walking/running are abundantly available, including at the Cornwall Preserve right down the street and the Roberts Farm Preserve in Norway.  Norway Downtown provides shopping and great restaurants including Norway Brewing Company, 76 Pleasant Street, Cafe Nomad, and more.  Also there for fiber enthusiasts and makers is Fiber & Vine and the Folk Art Studio there.   Within the National Historic District of Paris Hill, just a short walk, you can golf at the nine hole Paris Hill Country Club which also has a cafe, or explore the Hamlin Memorial Library & Museum and the Paris Hill Historical Society.   For those so inclined, the Oxford Casino is about ten miles away.  There is also public access to Norway Lake, about seven miles away.

At most, the Parris House will sleep seven.  There are three available bedrooms that will take two-person beds for couples (or singles to have more space!) and one, my favorite, that is a beautiful, vintage refuge for one.  There are two baths that would be shared between the four bedrooms, one with laundry facilities.  The fifth bedroom and bath would be for us and is with my work studio.  So full retreat weekends would be somewhat exclusive because of that space limitation, although there are possible options for lodging elsewhere in the village as well.  We are thinking these retreats could run, at first, once a quarter, and if they are well attended and in demand, perhaps more often, but that would be a lot to commit to from this time distance.

This is where you come in.  Give us your feedback.  Do you like the idea?  Is this something that you could realistically see yourself doing?  What classes and activities would you like to see offered? What seasons would be your favorites for a retreat?   How far would you travel for a weekend away at the Parris House?  Would you also like to see us run another retreat at Sunset Haven?

These retreats could not be offered before 2019, possibly even 2020, so this is some long range planning, but we were just interested to see what kind of response the idea brought.

In other news, I think there’s a football game or something on today.  If you are a football fan, enjoy the day, and happy hooking! – Beth

Wool Dyeing with Acorns – A Serendipitous Experiment

My second son, James, is a biologist/ecologist, a recent grad of Dalhousie University in Halifax, Nova Scotia.  He is at home right now, teaching biology and environmental science at Hebron Academy.  He also serves on the board of the Center for an Ecology Based Economy in Norway, Maine.   He is here until his Canadian girlfriend, Beth, graduates also this spring.  Then he’ll be gone to Canada to start his life with her.  But…for the time being, he’s home, and we have learned a LOT from him about nature, plants, soil science, composting, climate change, birds and animals, and more.

As a result, we were not surprised when he announced he was going to try to make a bread meal out of acorns, which is something native peoples did prior to the arrival of Europeans on this continent, and which people who like to try this sort of thing still do today.  It’s a long process.  The primary issue is that the tannins need to be removed from the acorns before they are fit for human consumption.  Tannins are found in every day beverages, like tea and coffee, but acorns are extremely loaded with them.  This makes them not only bitter, but prone to causing the types of gastrointestinal upset not spoken of in polite company or professional blog posts.

To get the tannins out, James needed to soak the acorn meal for an extended period of time and change the water frequently.  He told me that some people will even put their bundle of acorns in to a running stream to let the tannins be leached out over time in the moving water.  Before he could do the leaching process, he had to crack the acorns open, pull the meat out of the shell, and then grind it all up in the food processor.  When he reached the point where he needed, “a cotton dish towel, or cheese cloth, or something” to hold the meal, I had what I thought was a brilliant idea.  I said to him, “How about if we wrap it in white wool and see if it will dye it?”  Fortunately, he was game.  And I knew that the water would be changed so frequently (several times a day in the beginning) that the wool would not get weird or stinky on us.

So the process began.  The water was changed frequently over the course of weeks.  Every once in a while we tasted the meal.  Sure enough, the bitterness was dissipating, and the wool was getting more and more nut colored.  I knew that at the end of the process, when the meal was ready for drying and baking, I’d have to mordant the wool, but this could obviously not be done while the acorn meal was still wrapped in it.

Finally, one day, James declared the meal ready for baking.  He took it out of the water, and the wool, and dried it on sheets in the oven.  The dried meal was then frozen in jars until he baked a bread with it at Christmas time.  It’s…an acquired taste.  There was some residual bitterness, but it also had an earthy, nutty quality that I very much liked.  The reviews were mixed with the visiting brothers, girlfriends, cousins, and grandparents.  If you’d like to try processing acorn meal and baking with it yourself, there are many resources on the web that can guide you.

I took the wool, mordanted it as best I knew how in a hot bath of white vinegar (I know there are better mordants for a natural dye like this, but this is what I had on hand), rinsed it, and dried it.

I like the color.  It’s a soft, nutty, slightly mottled tan, a little darker and yellower where the meal actually sat all that time, and I have a half yard piece – or I can put it in to fat quarters if you prefer – to sell.  I will be pricing them at $14/fat quarter.  (Contact me if interested!)  This wool is truly one of a kind as I don’t think I’ll be processing acorns again anytime soon.  Or maybe I will.  Maybe I will find a process more suitable to dyeing specifically and give it another try.  This was serendipitous, kind of akin to the Thai iced tea dye I did a while back after noticing how brilliant the color of the tea was when it spilled on my counter top.

Natural dyeing is not my area of expertise.  I do not currently teach it, because I feel that I don’t know enough about it.  I do plan to invite someone wonderful who does, however, to the Parris House in the summer or fall, so keep an eye on “Classes & Events” for when I can get that scheduled.

Happy hooking!  – Beth

 

 

 

 

There’s Still a Short Time to Shop for the Holidays, Etsy Coupon Code!

Happy Holidays!  How is your gift shopping going?  Have you remembered to treat yourself to something nice too?  Here at Parris House Wool Works, we want to help.  First, be aware that between now and December 15th, we are running a coupon code in the Etsy shop.  You can save 15% off any order of $50 or more by simply using coupon code HOLIDAY2017 at check out.

Second, here are some great ideas for gifts, for you and your winter hooking/crafting, or for someone on your gift list.  While these are our top ten recommendations, remember that the coupon code is good for anything in the Etsy shop.

So let’s do our top ten!  Just click on the item title to find it in the Etsy shop.   Please note where quantities and time frames are limited.

Holiday Wool Fat Quarter Quad

Holiday colors, 1 fat quarter each, hand dyed, cut or uncut – your choice.  This is a great selection of wool to hook last minute ornaments for teachers’ gifts, hostess/party gifts, or just for your own tree.

Complete Beginner Rug Hooking Kit

We have two versions of this, so make sure you check the shop for both.  One comes with our 10 x 12 box frame and the other with our 12 x 12 folding frame.  Fantastic and economical way to get someone you love in to the craft you love.  You can also customize it with a different pattern if you so choose.  Limited number available.

 

Americana Baker’s Dozen Stash

Only one available! This stash is a great way to start off a new hooker or augment the stash of someone experienced!  Also works well for applique, felting, stitching, or other crafts.

10″ x 12″ Rug Hooking Lap Frame

This is a favorite frame of mine.  Almost everything I hook that is not really large is hooked on this frame.  I love its simplicity and portability.  This frame is hand crafted by Bear Pond Wood Works in Hartford, Maine in solid, quality, no-knot pine.  A great beginner frame, but also a great frame period.  Limited number available.

12″ x 12″ Folding Lap Frame

Another solid and super popular pine frame by Bear Pond Wood Works, this one folds nicely when you take the base off to fit in to your hooking tote.  Limited number available.

Hand Dyed Tie Dye Wool Scarf

Only one available! Need something for someone who doesn’t hook or craft but loves wool?  Hand dyed tie dye scarf with hand fringed ends.  Toasty warm and a good length to tuck in to a coat collar.

Reach for the Stars Snowman Pillow Kit

Great winter project!  Reach for the Stars snowman pillow (or wall hanging, table mat) with all the wool you need to hook it!

Gossip in the Pines Pattern

Gossiping cardinals.  We see them every winter.  Who says females are the biggest gossips?  These two gentlemen chatter away all winter long.

7″ Snowman Ornament Kit

Need to hook something quick?  This kit is for you.  Cute snowman can be easily finished by using fabric bonding material for the back.  No sewing required.

Antique Hair Receiver

Only one available!  I pick our local antique shops for the prettiest, most unusual Maine items I can find.  I love this antique hair receiver.  Originally used to hold hair from combs and brushes, this could also be a jewelry holder, contain small silk flowers, or whatever your imagination comes up with.

So those are our top ten recommendations, but again, HOLIDAY2017 gets you 15% off any order of $50 or more on ANYTHING in the Etsy shop.

Please note that this sale runs through Friday, December 15th.   Some of these items need to be made and/or assembled so anything ordered after the 15th is not guaranteed for holiday delivery.  If we have an unexpected number of orders on the frames, it may also be difficult to have those in time for holiday delivery as well, so if a frame or a kit that includes a frame looks like the thing for you, please order right away.   First come, first served.

Thank you and I hope you have a holiday filled with happy memories and  happy hooking!  – Beth