button it up

There's quite a bit I remember from eighth grade, when Omaha kids took the required US History class, and my teacher was Mr. Roslowski. We know about state capitals, but what that great American hero who followed in the syllabus after capitals: Johnny Tremain. I don't think we spend enough time to think about, or take days off, to celebrate his contribution to American history. His contribution to my life is that every, single time I hear about internships or apprenticeships I think Johnny Tremain.

L is heading up to Vermont next weekend for what I'm calling her "Johnny Tremain" moment. It all started on our last journey in early March when she first visited the legendary fabric mecca; she met the Eleven there as I was choosing which stunning Indian fabric to collect. X was determining the best options for a new lining (and buttons) for her winter dress coat. The fine proprietor/purveyor was in the midst of a lake of buttons attempting to make some artistic sense of the waves. L noted the expanses of button puddles - what is on display is sorted and held in glass/crystal finger bowls - and immediately decided that this was her type of place, never mind the masses of beautiful fabrics and bits of unassembled creation. That day appeared to be a small step in the sorting, managing, and display of some portion of thousands of artisan, collectible, and finally curated buttons. This would not end without some kind of contribution on L.'s part. And so it is that she'll spend two weeks finger-to-finger with buttons, overhearing talk of fabric and art, touching and learning vicariously about fabrics, all while imagining how and where it all happened. Her chance to have such a wonderful guide on this tour of art is something she'll never forget. I've assigned her daily writings about what she's learned, loved, or wondered. As that happens (I not-so-subtly created her a blog), we can hopefully follow along.

Time will tell.