Oh, how I love the snow…..
Oh, I don’t mean that I want to go outside! No skiing, sledding or snowshoeing for
The wreathes are all hung.
On the cupboards…..
On Saturday Ken and I had the extreme pleasure of attending Hudson’s Winter Walk.
We started the night in the same way we start everything we do in Hudson, with
something delicious from chef extraordinaire Chris Hebert, whose cafe is right in the
back of the Hudson Supermarket where we have our antique show space. Next, with
the idea of walking off some of our desert, seeing the sights and, for me, the chance
to get some photos, we headed out into the street just in time for the most charming
handmade parade.
Music was everywhere.
We wondered how those musicians performing outside could make their fingers
work on this 30 degree night.
You know what else was everywhere? Dogs!
Hudson is a dog-loving town and there were almost as many bowls of water on
the sidewalks outside of shops as there were tasty people treats inside.
Move over Amsterdam! We’ve got the windows!
The hula-hooper, belly dancers, balloon-twisting clown and ballerina worked it
without a break and drew admiring crowds all night.
Windows, fine…..
funky…..
and Dickensian.
But, what happened here? The bad monkey wrecks the joint and then just sits there
contemplating a piece of broken crystal while in the background, a bird, obviously
an accomplice, flies around doing who knows what on the carpet. I just love this
totally unexpected Christmas crisis window.
Below:
Our first stop was at 3Fourty Seven. As soon as you see The Chandelier, you know that
these people are not afraid to say who they are. Housed in a big old garage, this place has
Bold! written all over it.
They just opened, but with their ecclectic mix of modern, factory, textiles and oddball
artwork that just works, I know they will be enjoying a long, successful run.
They are a super-friendly group of architects, set designers and style-makers. Check
them out at 347 Warren Street. 518-291-4780.
www.3FourtySeven.com. info@3FourtySeven.com.
Below:
Next, we headed into Hudson Home. Again, we were met by friendly smiles and given a
tour of the beautiful shop with its stylish, comfortable-looking furnishings, plush bedding
and unusual accouterments.
And, again, dogs! I wasn’t kidding when I said Hudson is a dog town. A dramatic orange
room sports a few dozen photos of white-framed white dogs and the theme of orange
and dogs is carried out on the table of Christmas decorations and in the two
Chi Chi Chi Chia-looking poodles in the front window.
Be sure to ask about the unusual modern fireplace and the checkerboard rug.
It is no surprise that Hudson Home just had a nice blurb in Vogue. 356 Warren Street.
518-822-8120. www.hudson-home.com. richard@hudson-home.com.
Below:
And then there’s Kosa! The home of organic, recycled, green, indie clothing and jewelry.
Even when time is not on our side, my friends and I stop here. I go straight to the
legwarmers, fingerless gloves, spats and skirts all made from vintage sweaters by
Oh Deer.
My friends, all artists, like the indie clothing and would love the coat being modelled
by the accommodating customer below. I hope she bought it because it looked pretty
great on her. 502 Warren Street. 528-828-6620. www.kosa-co.net.
Below:
Hudson and Mark Wasserback. Mark Wasserback and Hudson. These names are
synonymous. Mark’s Antiques has been around for as long as I can remember and,
luckily, some things just never change. The inventory is crazy, edgy and heaped to
the rafters in any old higgledy-piggledy way. But don’t be fooled. This stuff is
fast-moving and it’s not the kind of place where you should say “I’ll think about it”
and then wander off to lunch.
The photo on the right (above) is of a section of a fabulous 8′ x 5′ table top that Mark
had made from metal printer’s plates.
So many disparate things to see, like the wooden Madonna, above, and the
aluminum light fixture, below.
Below, a divine blue-gray tack cupboard that I really love. Apparently,
and for reasons not understood by either Mark or me, alfalfa was placed in
the top part of the cupboard. Something to do with cleaning the tack. I did
go home…happy!…with the factory board in the photo on the right, below.
Mark’s factory presentation of party snacks induced me to step away from my
no-sugar routine long enough to enjoy one or two cookies. 612 Warren Street.
528-701-5382. wass1@nycap.rr.com.
But, there’s more! At the back of Mark’s store, steps, like a stairway to heaven,
lead to another of Hudson’s long-standing gems: Larry’s Back Room.
Chock full of treasures, some traditional
period pieces, some not traditional at all, you’d need some time to poke around
in here.
I spotted a pair of tall silver factory molds that, to me, are just begging to
be wine tasting tables. Larry’s walls are lined with collections, backed with
burlap, interestingly mounted and accurately labelled.
612 Warren Street. 528-248-2643. Lforman1@nycap.rr.com.
At this point, Ken, who had been really patient while I took almost 300 photos and
talked a blue streak, looked like he was getting weary.
So we headed back to the Hudson Supermarket…..
to check up on our space….
straighten the grain sacks…
and the mountain of lavender bags…
and the big pile of pagent wings I brought in to sell…
and to watch the fireworks that call an end to a very happy night.
My house needs some editing. Well, I guess it could use a whole lot of
editing. Until recently, I sold from my house and barns to antique dealers
and designers but time doesn’t allow for that any more. What seemed like
an abundance of cool stuff then, now feels like a crowd. As I was walking
through my rooms, I noticed, not for the first time, that there are an
awful lot of people living here with us. Here are some of their faces….
So many of them are religious. While I cannot be counted among the orgainzed
faithful, something deep in me responds to the music, accoutrements and
ceremony of places of worship whether meeting-house simple or over the top.
My parents believed that children should grow up knowing about God and
have some experience of church in order to have something to believe in.
They were pretty lackadaisical, though, and I either attended Sunday School
at our own Dutch Reformed Church or went with a friend to their Sunday
School or Synagogue. I was fortunate to live in a town that had dozens of different
choices and I visited almost all of them.
Except for the Catholic Church. Things were different back then, the Catholic
Church was more closed and I was never invited to a service there as a kid.
For a long time, I thought I didn’t know anyone who was Catholic.
Of course, I eventually got in and, once I have my foot in the door, I’m hard
to get rid of ! The pomp and cirmcumstance, the glory of it all has kept me
enthralled with Catholic services and it is always my first choice when in a
foreign country. I have found that I am perfectly capable of lifting my voice in
song in any language. The Tallis Scholars performing Thomas Tallis’ sacred music
is my favorite to listen to, with Krishna Das’ “All One” a close second. But, when it
comes to my people, I don’t confine myself to the pious….
My taste is catholic, not just Catholic.
Anybody want to join me in the church of maple syrup? Aunt Jemima is a saint
in my book!
My big garden girls are all inside the house where they belong.
Big Mouth, from the carnival, and Bedroom Eyes, a mannequin. These guys
don’t go outside, either.
A santa, hand-made by Terry John Woods. And a mask which has holes in the
eye area allowing the wearer to see. Terry used to have a sale at his Vermont
family farm one day a year, the day after Thanksgiving. People came from far
away places, like California, and slept in cars overnight on his country road in
order to be first through the door. The handmade items and antiques were pretty
wonderful but I don’t think I would give up Thanksgiving for them. It only took
me 2 hours to drive to his hamlet. And another hour to find the place, tucked
away on a dirt road, a mile down from a five corners. I could never quite remember
which of those roads to take.
Old papier mache angels. Too nice to keep in a closet till Christmas. And,
Patina and her other sister, Patina. Patina is technically the green that shows
up on metal when it oxidizes. However, most of us call the signs of age on any old
surface “patina” and get away with it every time.
There are dozens more people in my house, but enough is enough. Above,
though, is a preview of what’s coming…the faces of my animals! I have a very
strong feeling that, during the editing process, none of my people are going to
get the boot.
