People are always asking me how I happened to come to my little weaving cottage. Do I live there? It looks like a house but no one lives here? Is it a studio? What’s the story here? Well, here’s the story.
It was always the little white cottage nestled in the trees across the street from my parents. It was so quaint and sweet and I always loved that little cottage. For years it was home for a lovely older couple who raised their family there. Then sadly the wife Elsa passed and after a year or so, Vier the husband moved away. My dad bought the little cottage as a rental property and for quite a while rented it out. Then for a few years my niece lived there until she moved to Western Massachusetts. There were always lights on and lots of life and love in that little cottage but then when my niece left, it was dark and quiet. My dad couldn’t decide what to do with it. He didn’t want to rent it but didn’t want it empty, dark and quiet.
At the same time the second floor of my home was bursting at the seams with looms, spinning wheels, fiber, fabric, etc. I started to think how wonderful it would be to move everything to the little white cottage and be right across the street from my parents where I could see them every day and work from an adorable space! I could finally have my own studio! I could teach my classes on my own schedule and I would be my own boss! Meraki Handwoven would truly have a home! What a beautiful dream!!! So I approached my dad with my idea. At first he said no. Then he said he’d like to think about it and then finally he said yes!!!! I was thrilled!!!!! My husband and I started painting and getting the little cottage ready to move everything into it from my home. It took ten trips but we got everything in and assembled the looms back to working order. Finally everything was finished and I now have my own functioning weaving studio in which I work and teach classes! The looms clickity clack creating fabric and the wheels whirl spinning yarn every day. Students come and take classes. Imaginations are put to work and creativity is sparked! Visitors come and share their stories of their fiber love. There are always cars in the driveway and people coming and going. The lights are on and the little cottage is full of life and love. No one lives in the adorable little white cottage nestled in the trees but it has come to life again my dream has come to fruition.
The best part of all this however has nothing to do with weaving or spinning or teaching. It has to do with being right there every day and seeing my parents. It’s seeing my 89 year old mom come across the street just to say hi and see what’s going on. It’s visiting and chatting with my 94 year old dad who has come over with a boiled egg or two to make sure I’m eating. It’s looking across the street and seeing my parents red house all lit up, full of life and love.
That’s the story of my weaving cottage.