Show Time

As I start this week I reflect on my past few Mondays. Last Monday we were loading the trailer for the Paducah show.  A cast of characters were soon to descend on Frond Design Studios. The first was Carolyn… Carolyn works at Fern Hill (my mom’s store where I worked for 20+ years). If you have been to Fern Hill she is always engaging and enthusiastic. She believes in what Fern Hill is doing and Frond too. It is a special mission to work for a cause. The cause is truth and authenticity in business. An authenticity that has been true to itself for 32 years. I remember when my mom started Fern Hill. I remember she and my father sitting in the family room thinking of names for the store. Pouring through books with a rusty orange carpet as the gesso to this art happening.

My mom and dad ultimately chose the name Fern Hill based on the beautiful poem by Dylan Thomas.

poet Dylan Thomas

Fern Hill – Poem by Dylan Thomas

Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
Trail with daisies and barley
Down the rivers of the windfall light.

And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,
In the sun that is young once only,
Time let me play and be
Golden in the mercy of his means,
And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves
Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and
And the sabbath rang slowly
In the pebbles of the holy streams.

All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay
Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was
And playing, lovely and watery
And fire green as grass.
And nightly under the simple stars
As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,
All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the
Flying with the ricks, and the horses
Flashing into the dark.

And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white
With the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder: it was all
Shining, it was Adam and maiden,
The sky gathered again
And the sun grew round that very day.
So it must have been after the birth of the simple light
In the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking
Out of the whinnying green stable
On to the fields of praise.

And honoured among foxes and pheasants by the gay house
Under the new made clouds and happy as the heart was long,
In the sun born over and over,
I ran my heedless ways,
My wishes raced through the house high hay
And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows
In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs
Before the children green and golden
Follow him out of grace.

Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would
take me
Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
In the moon that is always rising,
Nor that riding to sleep
I should hear him fly with the high fields
And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land.
Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea.

So Carolyn broke in and asked “What can I do?”
My brother Justin texted… “What can I bring from New Pioneer Coop?” (he is a lead there for wellness) it is the coolest store in Cedar Rapids aside from Delve of course. I said ” a cinnamon roll for sure and some kombucha.”
Mike and Mary Patterson headed over.
My daughter Nichole headed over.
Eventually we loaded our stuff and headed south into the Spring eluding us here.
When you head to Paducah from Iowa in April it is pretty cool. Dogwoods are blooming to remind us that hope is here. Magnolias are blooming. People are cutting grass and the smell of that cut grass wafts through the town.
We got there. We set the booth. We so enjoyed all of the people supporting us for years or just discovering us.
Thank you. Frond is different. Frond runs with fabric not scissors.

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