|B Right On Quilting in Brighton CO|
In an effort to get to know the area, and visit with a friend, I took the suggestion of Sharon to visit the quilt shop in Brighton.
To do this, Mary and I coordinated a day and time to meet. I had to get directions and follow my GPS that apparently wants me to support a very expensive toll road here.
At the end of the day my husband informed me I spent 23 bucks on tolls on the round trip! What?!!! Live and learn, and find an alternate route! The tolls are not marked, and they take them off your license tag, so it was a shock.
Back to the story...
As I left the town of Aurora, the landscape became even more desolate and barren. But I could see the mountains looming to my side, then ahead of me. I passed Denver Airport and suddenly looking at the mountains, my heart began to pound. I began to panic. The thoughts came fast and unbidden...
"how will we ever cross those?!" " Are we insane to try to cross those not knowing what's beyond?" " We are just crazy to do this" and I felt myself walking beside a wagon, with others trudging toward the giant mountains covered in snow, and wondering how we could go across them. Feelings of futility, and anger, and worry, most of all uncertainty.
Think I'm crazy yet? (Jury is out)
I am no stranger to belief in past lives, and I think each life is from God and lived to experience and learn in order to understand and love more fully. I've read a lot of studies done by many doctors on this subject.
I think I may have done this migration before, causing me to have a lot of stress about moving here this time.
I know subconsious fears can influence how one sees the present, and bringing it to the surface and seeing them as stemming from the past can alleviate some present discomfort. I also think maybe, just maybe, I have done this move before.All I know is the thoughts felt real, in the present, and came without thinking about anything but following directions to the quilt store!
I also wonder about DNA. We all came from ancestors before, we share DNA all the way back to eve so to speak. Can any of that shared DNA have memories attached? Greater minds than mine are pondering these issues I expect.
So I find Mary and the quilt shop and the cute little town that looks caught between 1910 and 1935.
(rubbing hands with glee) I like exploring little towns like this. I had no idea just how interesting this would be on first glance.
This town is not a sleepy forgotten place, with closed storefronts. It's alive, and in use as it has been since it started. There is a prison, there are farms and ranches, there is a railroad behind Main street still in use. People come to Main street to shop and visit and eat.
We went to the cafe on Main street for lunch, admittedly a bit wary of what we'd find.
Well we found a small but full restaurant with a mix of customers. Young mothers, business people, couples and families and groups occupying all tables but two. We chose the one in the back next to a table of men dressed to work outside.
Jovial and friendly, they opened with, "if you sit back here next to us, you'd better behave" and I countered with, "oh, I don't know, y'all look like your not a stranger to misbehavior!"
The rushed but nice waitress, a slim woman wearing jeans and a tight t shirt, gave us menus and iced tea, and took our order. On an old fashioned order pad. Mary ordered a BLT and I got a Turkey, swiss Avocado sandwich toasted. With salads not fries. They were hot off the grill sandwiches and lovely fresh salads. We ate them while having a wonderful conversation, the kind where two long time friends jump from subject to subject, sharing and asking questions, and laughing at times, shaking our heads in commiseration at times.
The men had their lunch quietly next to us.
Then I asked the question, "do y'all live here?" I wanted to know more about this little place.
"No," they answered, the spokesman saying "he's from Idaho, he's from Wyoming, I'm from Montana" or something like that.
"REally! are you here for work?" I asked, being an amateur journalist! I figure everyone has a story and I want to hear it, and if they want to be private they will send a sign, I'm pretty good at noticing when someone doesn't want to chat.
Most people are glad to share their lives if asked.
The strong quiet affable men explained their jobs. They follow the railroad, and run equipment that polishes the rails. Train wheels damage rails, then the damaged rails in turn damage wheels further so they drive polishing equipment over the rails to smooth them out. They were on the East coast this year, trying to maneuver their big equipment through cobblestone streets of Philadelphia! Now they are here. Next stop, somewhere down the line!
I felt richer having shared a conversation with them. They were happy and respectful and reminded me that taking the risk to reach out to people is worth it. As they unfolded long legs, put on cowboy hats, and stood to leave, each one said goodbye, God bless you.
Mary and I asked the waitress about dessert, and she gave us the last laugh of the experience. She said it's an enormous sweet roll covered in icing but you must order two. She grabbed a non existent fat roll on her waist, saying one roll for each side, to keep in balance! Bwaa hahaha. Having more than enough fat rolls already I passed.
The quilt shop was large, with so many fabrics I love from Moda Marbles, to Stonehenge, to modern. They had lots of kits and sale items, every notion out there, and I thought I could move in. We wandered and considered each item, discussing what we'd do with it. It was so much fun. That day all fabric was $8 a yard but it would be going up to $10 a yard next month.
Sharon, who lives in Greeley and left a comment on my post, was right. I did love that store! How nice that she risked reaching out to a stranger, me.
How nice that we exchanged phone numbers and have had a great long chat since then!
What opportunities there are in taking a risk to reach out.
When I was a bright young thing, I went to Disney World with a long time friend for NYE. The two of us had many adventures together through high school, and this was just one more while we were both on break from University. We met three college guys from Toronto, on a ride in Tomorrow land.
The three and I wrote many many times to each other that year, and one of them, Joe told me that my shyness was wasted.
"Look at people! look at their eyes, and say hello, then follow that with something, anything, to reach out", he said to me,
" stop hiding"
Oh! I began to look up. I looked up when paying a clerk, I looked up when approaching a walker, I looked up in class to see who was next to me, and I began to reach out. I read the book by B. Walters, How to talk to practically anybody, any time about anything. I was scared but getting braver.
Did it always work? Nope. Did it work more than it didn't, yep. Did I get better at it, definitely.
I put this into effect as a social worker, having to listen to each person's story, bring out the needs and hopes from each family. I put it in practice doing the "dog and pony show" that teaching junior high students required. I use this in outreach with other artists and to get work as a lecturer and teacher of quilting techniques.
Why am I sharing all this, on a public blog, with unknown people who have likely long since stopped reading all my words! What no pictures? I feel people are sliding into isolation with electronic "social" media. Ironically all this social outreach has formed a group of young things who don't know how to converse (or as I've actually heard them say, "conversate" ) or even want to talk to others.
People's lives and hopes and dreams cannot all fit in a 25 bite IM.
We are more important than that.
What do you think? Talk to me....