Halloween weekend in Philadelphia seemed like such a good idea when we planned our trip. I had four stops on my itinerary: Ardmore and Lonni Rossi's store; Philly and the Snyderman-Works Gallery; Intercourse and The People's Place quilt museum and store; and Adamstown and some antiques malls. Mike added a few surprises: dinner with his brother--which turned into roll-on-the-floor hysterical laughing fun (who knew?), a cheesesteak lunch on South Street (NOT on my diet), and a visit to his JCFS woodworking teacher to tour his studio (almost as good as Carol Taylor's digs).
My priority was getting my foot in the door of Lonni's store. The last time I tried to shop there, the stor
e was closed-not fun after a four-hour drive. But this time not only was the store open, everything was 20% off! Just think: Handpainted Lonni Rossi fabric! OH MY! And on SALE!!! See Susan drool. See Susan buy a few yards of very damp fabric just to avoid a lawsuit. Only the white and gray fabric is handpainted. The other $70 worth is "merely" commercial goods. I must say I was not eager to leave the store, but there were my husband and puppies to consider. Tell me why that's important, please.
Our next stop was Pa. Dutch country where we ate an abominable lunch of bland, fatty, uninspired sandwiches much like the food of my childhood--but at least there was no ring-balogna--and I visited The Olde Country Store and quilt museum. The store downstairs has every kind of quilt fabric in print, except, of course, Lonni's. It's not cheap, but there's a lot of it: traditional, dependable, predictable. I bought some fat quarters in shades/hues/tints of browns, rusts, and beiges, plus two yards of Amish black. I was wearing my Obama button and as I paid for my $50 worth of fabric was treated very curtly by the proprietress. McCain country. Gun-toting, Bible pounding, right to lifing, capital punishing, war mongering, half-truth and scare tactics spouting McCain country. I wonder if they every saw pictures of Sarah in her thong.
But I digress. We met Mike's brother for dinner in Villanova (Maia--very modern, trendy, plus side of average food) and spent the night in Exton, PA. The next day found us in Philly at the Snyderman-Works Gallery and on South Street. The gallery is inspiring. Some of the art was bizarre and seemed as if it were torn from the artist's soul. Some was serene--apparently from more peaceful souls. I resolve to follow where my ideas take me instead of trying to impress other people. My current path isn't leading me anywhere. It's not working.
This may seem like a lot of driving. It was. We had planned to spend Friday in Philly, Saturday in Lancaster, and Sunday in Adamstown. But then the Phillies had to go and win the World Series. Philadelphia was NOT a place to be in on Friday. We flipped our plans so that there would be room for us in the city by Saturday.
Saturday's lunch, a cheesesteak hoagie, was an improvement over the previous day's pseudo-German garbage. After another night in Exton--early to bed due to sheer exhaustion of running heite to beite (forgive me, Yiddish police), we were off to Adamstown antique malls. We went to two large establishments and bought nothing. I was simply too tired to think clearly and refused to spend money on the wrong stuff and have a tastelessly over-decorated foyer. Consequently, my foyer table will remain tastelessly under-decorated for another year. We were on the road by 10:15 and paid a visit to Mike's woodworking teacher in Strasburg (whatever--the town with the railroad) before starting on our way home. It was fun, mostly, but I'm really, really tired of the inside of Mike's car.
"Tyvek Explorations" is an on-line class offered through Joggles.com. This piece shows some Tyvek that was painted on both sides with Lumiere then stitched onto some batik and some cheap velvet. The accompanying bright orange fabric is lame'. All stitching was done in one swell foop--fastening and quilting are the same threads. After all was fastened securely, I hit the Tyvek and the neighboring double-sided lame' with my heat gun. Tyvek melted everywhere except at the stitching. The lame' melted toshow the color I faced it with. Lots of controlled shredding. 
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