I made a trip last week to the quilt show in Lancaster, PA. En route, I decided to see how many quilt/fabric shops I could find and browse. I made myself a plan, and stopped at nearly every one on my list of about twenty. Most of them were variations on a theme -- rows and rows of bolts of fabric all neatly ordered by color, by designer, or by category. All but one.
The first thing you notice when you pass through the front door of this particular shop is a big wooden staircase right smack in the middle of the store. Of course, this makes a person want to head right up those stairs to see what's on the second floor. And there was a message to be read on each and every riser going up. But before I could get that far, I first had to pass by the person running the shop (the owner, maybe?) who was seated at a small table, feverishly working on making something. The next thing I realized is that the huge pile -- and by that I mean a heap about 10 feet wide, 5 feet deep and about as high as I am tall -- between me and the stairway was actually hot pads. In every imaginable color and fabric pattern. There had to be hundreds of them there! Maybe thousands.
I worked my way around this place, amidst frighteningly tall stacks of fabric on bolts, wondering who was the sorry soul that might have to do inventory at the end of the year. Eventually, I found myself back face to face with the person working at the little table. Trying to make a little conversation, I asked if she had been over to see the quilt show a few miles away. Her reply was that she was too busy working. Guess what she was doing?!? Making more hot pads! Oh, my!
I tell you what ... if you're ever in need of a hot pad, tell me and I'll head you in the right direction. If you've ever been to this particular shop, you'll know exactly what I mean. It's unforgettable.
Oh, yeah ... they had lots of quilts for sale, too.
(photo taken and sent to me by someone I know who happened upon this shop, too -- thanks, Penny)