Our NewsletterA Common Thread Our move is semi-complete. We are in the new location and we are almost ready. As promised we will be open for business on July 2nd and 3rd but not everything will be in its final place I can assure you. At the end of this newsletter are a couple of collage pictures of before we started renovating and just a day or so ago as we were filling the walls. Because these last two and half weeks have been so hectic, we were honoured when Canadian cross stitch designer Lynne Nicoletti offered to do a little blog for us in place of our summer newsletter. Lynne is a local Londoner and we are pleased to have her give a little introduction about our new location. Make sure to check out her designs by going to www.lynnenicoletti.com. "Hi, my name’s Lynne Nicoletti. I’m a needlework designer who’s spent most of her life in London, Ontario. Today though, I’m having fun preparing a little text for Kathy and Neale’s newletter. As you know, Thread & Eye is relocating to 964 Leathorne Street… to a place that’s going to give us all a whole lot more room to play. Most of us have moved at least once in our lives and those memories of wrapping, boxing, labeling, lifting, transporting and re-lifting, identifying, un-boxing and un-wrapping don’t fade quickly, do they? Can you imagine trying to find a new home for each little packet of John James needles, for every single pair of stork-nosed scissors and for all those beautiful Vicky Clayton silks? The mind just boggles! And who among us has to find the perfect spot for a giant bulletin board (a tricky mix of being abundantly noticeable but not obtrusive). Moving my husband’s motley mix of manly machines and metal bits would be easy-peasy compared to moving and re-housing Neale’s framing tools! The worst part of moving though has to be cleaning, painting and preparing the new place BEFORE you can even move your stuff in. Vacuuming up the dust bunnies and erasing previous homeowners unfortunate paint selections are nothing compared to transforming an ethnic grocery shop into an inspired and inspiring refuge for our stitching community. How do I know that the new home of Thread & Eye used to be a family-run, ethnic grocery store? I’ve had a previous relationship with that building. Not so very long ago, it was a place where my husband and I would pick up some of our pantry staples… 964 Leathorne Street was home to the India Spice Centre. On opening their front door, billowing scents of cinnamon, cloves, coriander, cardamom, cumin and so many flavoursome and exotic spices made our mouths water. This is where I bought my Karha, the Indian equivalent of a Chinese wok (considerably safer though since it has a flat bottom). And where we’d pick up big, burlap sacks of fragrant Basmati rice. It was also where we learned that all mangoes are definitely NOT created equal... One day, as we paid for our groceries (near the front door where the Indian movie rentals, kohl eye make-up and treatments for glossy hair were displayed) we commented to the shop-owner that we’d been so disappointed in the mangoes that we’d picked up at the supermarket that week. Well, you should have seen his reaction! A conspiratorial gleam entered his eye as he reached under the counter and pulled out a nondescript cardboard box. Hmm, we wondered… he does realize that we were talking about mangoes, doesn’t he?! Very slowly, as though he was about to produce a newborn kitten or fragile piece of crystal, he separated the layers of tissue wrappings and proudly displayed a yellow-ish mango. It was, undoubtedly, the smallest mango we’d ever seen. Gently cradling his prize in two hands, the shop-owner confidently declared "These are the best mangoes you’ll ever eat". Guy and I exchanged a private ‘this guy’s full of it’ glance but asked "How much are they?" Without hesitation or shame, the man blurted out some outlandishly high price and went on describing his mangoes. "These arrived from India just 2 days ago. Their flesh has the texture of silk and they’re as sweet as honey. So juicy that you must eat them outside or over the sink. And don’t just throw away the seed with the flesh still clinging to it… that’s the sweetest, most succulent part." We took a gamble and paid that extraordinary price for this tiny, insignificant-looking mango… and he was right, we’ve never again tasted a mango as wonderful as this. I've been prattling on forever, haven't I? And you're probably wondering what on Earth does all this have to do with needlework or with Thread & Eye! Just a little more patience please... I'm getting there. There were a few places in and out of London that we could have picked up my Indian spices but we chose to buy them from the India Spice Centre. The owner had taken a little time on a busy Saturday and created a bond between his grocery store and us. Years ago, we spent a hot, summer afternoon in Port Dover and picked up an inexpensive dream-catcher in one of the main streets' gift shops to send to an uncle who lives in England. It was an unpretentious little shop and a cheap little tourist-y item... one which I expected would be tossed into the bottom of a small plastic bag and passed across the counter with a bored glance and an almost inaudible 'thanks'. Imagine our surprise then when the smiling shop-owner, reached under her desk and pulled out reams of tissue paper with which to comfort Uncle John's dream-catcher. His swaddled gift was then carefully lowered into a pretty box and decorated with what seemed like yards of twirling ribbon1 Our spur-of-the-moment, mundane, little 'thinking of you' token was elevated to epic proportions by the generous gift of this woman's commitment to customer service. And now our rather circuitous route has led to the real destination of this piece... customer service. It doesn't matter to me whether a shop-owner's providing her community with mangoes or jelly beans, evening gowns or blue jeans, ceramics or needlework supplies... the true value of that shop rises in direct relation to the level of customer service that they provide. We've all had similar experiences at Thread & Eye... where Kathy never hesitates to help stitchers swap out colours when trying to customize a chart. Or give a quick lesson on French Knots or how to stitch 'over 2'. I wonder how many times she's been asked to explain the difference between Lugana and Jobelan? Or how often she's cut just "this much" fabric from the bolt? She's a fountain of stitch-y information... about what new fabric types and colours the mills are producing; which flosses are truly washable; any new gadgets that will add to the pleasure of stitching and whether there's any familial relationship between Lavender and Lace and Mirabilia (in case you're wondering... yes, there is). Neale, too, goes to great lengths to provide the highest level of customer service. How many of us have stood at his table mulling over mats and frames. He displays the patience of a saint as he guides us through a multitude of options... "Hmm, the dark brown frame with the ivory mat gives this picture a sophisticated, traditional appearance... but this pale blue mat really brings out the colour of the water around the lilies... what do you think, Neale?" I know that Kathy and Neale are planning some terrific new ways to help us get the most out of our favourite pastime at their new location on Leathorne Street. My absolute favourite is the fact that the larger space is going to enable us to have our very own play area... one where we're free to plop ourselves down with all our stitch-y things and while away the day... all day... any day. So, when the grass seems to be growning several centimetres a minute; when the laundry's screaming "Wash us, you lazy bum, wash us!" and the entire house is conspiring against my putting needle to thread, I can just throw my needlework basket into the car and seek refuge at Thread & Eye... perhaps we can spend the afternoon together.
Don't forget our new location: (1 street east of Adelaide along Commissioners or 1 street north of Commissioners along Adelaide) 964 Leathorne St |
