When my sister and I started a business together, we didn’t know if we would end up in cotton or wool, so we called our business The Ewe Tree. This was a time everything natural was so engulfing retail that we received offers not only to purchase the name, but to do business as, and use on the internet. When we retired weaving, Jan kept the name for her quilting business. It was twenty plus years old, known and respected, had great credit and accounts; why start over.
Now she has a lovely web site that features her work, and that would be the end of it. Oh, for years there were anguished emails begging for one more shirt, one more jacket. The occasional phone call did end when she relinquished the thirty year old phone number several years ago.
Recently she forwarded a lovely email:
I was in a thrift store outside Philadelphia today, shopping for interesting clothing, and came across this excellent sweater – I’m always drawn to clothing I can tell is unique or handmade. I’d just gotten rid of a number of sweaters and thought I had room in the closet for another, and noted the odd label – “The Ewe Tree, handwoven” it said. So I looked it up and found this site.
Just wanted to drop you a friendly line and tell you it’s strangely in the 50’s and raining tonight here in Philly and I’m really enjoying your sweater. It’s going to have a good second (or third or fourth or however-many) life with me! I’ve attached a pic if you want to see if you remember making this one.
Hope all is well, Joe
Awwwww. We made that style shirt from the mid-nineties until I retired in 2002. I remember putting on that tomato soup warp. We only wove it one time, and I have no recollection of when. I do recall two or three shows in Philly, but it could have come from anywhere. I’ll never forget the woman who found me in Virginia and called her husband in Boston: “I just found the weaver who made the shirts that your brothers took!” and bought half a dozen of that very shirt for her husband and his brothers.
Friday I saw the shoulder surgeon. After discussion, he recommended a “reverse” replacement. After cleanup of all the damaged goods, a new ball is placed in the shoulder blade, and a pad on a shaft in the upper arm bone is the new socket. Reverse of the old. I will have as much motion as now, more if I work at it, and no more pain.
Next week I’ll schedule out all the protocol to be able to meet the surgeon in the operating room. It’s an overnight stay, and I was offered local anesthesia. I think I’ll do that. But first, we’re spending a week in Wisconsin.