It all started years ago and by years ago, I mean way back "in the day" when I was still just a child. I would spend hours daydreaming about a "shop", how it would look, how it would feel, and how it would make everyone who visited feel at home and as if they had stepped out of the ordinary into a special, quiet retreat.

Over the course of the past 20 years I have dabbled in just about every aspect of crafting, antiquing, toyed with the idea of running a restaurant, considered an herb garden, a daylilly farm, and several other ideas that we will just leave to the imagination. Through each adventure, my mother simply strapped on her little "here we go again" backpack and plunged right in with enthusiasm and support. I remember a craft show, a Christmas craft show for those who know the importance of such a thing....I convinced my mother that this was IT, we were going to create beautiful things and sell them. We stayed up all night finishing said beautiful things and then my poor father and ex-husband spent the next few days lugging props and displays and crafts to a Civic Center about an hour away. Everyone said our displays were beautiful and loved the floral arrangements and hand-sewn pillows with fabulous silk bows and mother of pearl buttons. [thanks Granny!] Then they would ask, "Where is your shop? You Must have a shop!" My reply was, "Oh, well we don't have a shop....yet." My mother simply sat down and I believe there may have been some quiet sobbing.


But that was years ago.

Four years ago found my mother and me standing out in the back yard of a home my parents had recently purchased. We stood and looked at two old buildings, one a chicken house and one an old barn of sorts, and we both sort of shrugged and said, "Well, it Would be perfect for a shop..." and my father sort of clutched his chest and muttered something about being too old for all this. We of course ignored that and assured him that this was going to be so much fun he would end up thanking us one day. He, in turn, handed me a garden rake and suggested that I begin by cleaning out the barn. Sitting on the grass one afternoon under the shade of the huge Tulip tree next to the barn, my mother and I talked about a name for the shop. During our discussion we were agreeing that the idea behind this shop would be a concept of providing the simple little extras that make a home unique, something one might add to an almost forgotten corner that would turn it into a favorite nook. "Almost like how birds feather their nests....they build something sturdy to weather the season but then, they feather it to make it soft and floofy..." and so, Feathering the Nest became not only the name of a tiny little shop, but a phrase to define the desire to add those special touches to a home.

Six months later my father had laid a floor of wide pine boards found in an abandoned house, stained and hand rubbed the finish until they were softly glowing underfoot. A simple whitewash of paint finished the walls and ceiling, we left the exposed beams and cleaned the row of tiny square windows. My father then disappeared for a few days in his workshop and one evening came to the house to tell us we needed to come look at something out at the shop. He had torn out the front wall and replaced it with four windows salvaged from an old farmhouse and alongside the new windows was an antique french door. I'm pretty sure my mother and I sniffled and hugged him while praising his craftsmanship profusely. Two days later he had produced a "check out" stand that was both whimsical and functional...ok daddy, now you are on board for real! We still use the check out stand today.


Trust me when I say that our beginnings were of the most humble in nature. We were open three days a week and my mother ran the shop as I was still involved in the corporate world as a web developer for a processing bank [credit/debit, etc]. But after a year, my father decided to open up the other side of the barn and expand our shop. This room had even taller ceilings, a plywood floor handpainted in squares of cream and coffee with scattered dragonflies stencilled in shades of irridescent green, purple and gold. My mother and I spent days on end, scouring vendors, catalogs, magazines and the internet for that one something special. We kept a nod towards the outdoors, always thinking of how it would feel to stumble into a forgotten magical garden cottage. And so began the ever widening search for silken pillows with bows, tiny glazed replicas of baby chicks, the perfect nest full of eggs, candles scented with things such as fresh cut grass, lemon verbena, or green tea.

In March of 2006, I ended my relationship with the company I was working for and packed up everything, including the shop...and moved to Hahira, Georgia. [pronounced Hay-Hi-rah] In June, Feathering the Nest opened the doors of it's new home. The shop has had an overwhelmingly warm welcome from the local shop owners, the people of Hahira and surrounding areas. A few people know the details that went along with the move, the happenstance of a shop being available, and other key events and all agree that some things are just "meant" to be.
Feathering the Nest is one of those things.

I would like to say a special thank you to the following people for being there, for helping hands, for encouraging words, for love and support:

thank you! Momma and Daddy
...and you! Aunt Mary and Uncle Charlie
...and you! Granny
...and you! Stephen and Thomas
...and you! Aunt Sue and Uncle John
...and you! Michael
...and you! Rob
...and you! Julie
...and you! Sandra and Shannon
...and you! Sharon and Janie

...to be continued