A Good Yarn


hatWorking in a retail store, you get to meet a lot of people. Some of them make a mark in your day. A mark that is worthy of re-telling.

Yesterday I met a man who fits that bill. He came into the shop, an older man, probably in his 70s and very dapper. Slacks pressed, button-down shirt pressed, too. A blazer and hat similar to the one at left.

His eyes sparkled and he was purchasing some suede patches for the elbows of another blazer that he wasn’t ready to part with over a couple of small holes that had worked their way onto the elbows. He complimented our shop several times and said it was like stepping into the good old days. (The shop, to be fair, has been in the same family for 65 years and it is a bit like stepping into the past!) His tailor had sent him in and his friend got him there with no wrong turns.

I asked him where he was from and he said, “New York” area. He told me he had been called to service when 9/11 happened. Working for FEMA. He showed me his ID. I told him that I had worked at the World Trade Center in the early 80s and how that day hurt me personally even though I was miles and miles away.

I thanked him for his service both to our country and to the city that was my home and is now the home of all three of my children. He held my hand and thanked me, a glint in his eyes and a smile on his face. Maybe it was because I was cute (that’s what N. said) or maybe it’s because he was pleased to have been recognized as a veteran. I don’t know. He said he’d be back again and I hope he will. I hope I’m there that day. But I will remember that encounter in my little yarn shop with gratitude.

Like the three lady friends the other day, I wish I had taken his photograph.

Gone knitting.

Hueblein Tower, Simsbury, CT

Hueblein Tower, Simsbury, CT

When I was a little girl, my parents lived on Avon Mountain in Avon, CT. Our house was on the top of the same mountain as this tower … just way to the right of the tower in this picture (out of the picture, in fact.)

Looking back, that was such a beautiful place to grow up. Each season was beautiful. We were lucky.

We often took “hikes” to the Heublein Tower. Way back then, the tower had fallen into disrepair but the grounds were still gorgeous. A great trail to follow that made it family friendly. And beautiful views from the trail’s edge. Often there were hang gliders jumping off the edge of the mountain from just below the trail … it was awesome watching them take off and fly.

I remember my father telling stories about an Indian (now we’d say Native American) chief who hid in one of the caves just under the tower during a war long, long ago. The cave was called King Phillip’s Cave. At least that’s what we called it in our family. (I just now Googled it and it seems to be mostly true. The chief, King Phillip, was watching his tribe burn the town of Simsbury to the ground during King Phillip’s War.)

Anyway, this vista of the mountain and the tower took me right back to my home. I love the fall in New England and can’t wait to return there to live full-time in the near future.

Gone knitting.