yum sip yum: food bar food.

Posted on July 16, 2014 by junebug

The first thing I asked Amanda when she had a free second: “What’s the story behind the name, Food Bar Food?”

Her answer was simple and clear: she wanted the name of the restaurant to reflect its focus on food and beverages. Nothing more, nothing flashy really… it’s one of those “there’s-food-and-a-bar-and-did-we-mention-the-food?” kinda restaurants. The web site calls their culinary offerings “global comfort food,” which I think is a humble description for truly unique dishes one won’t find anywhere else, at least not in our little sliver of the globe.

Brandy and I were so excited and honored to be invited to Food Bar Food’s soft opening, and for my very favorite meal: brunch! The brunch menu consists of six “plates,” four “bowls,” four burgers, and a healthy assortment of sides. I don’t thing I’ve ever encountered a menu on which everything – absolutely all the dishes – appealed to me. Usually there are one of two items I wrinkle my nose at, but not this time. I wanted everything, from the Asian spiced fried chicken to the haddock burger with Sriracha mayo.

After deliberation that easily could have stretched us into lunch, I decided on the Pad Thai frittata – a rice noodle egg pancake with shrimp, veggies, peanuts, scallions, and ginger sauce. I noticed a “gf” notation next to the price and dorkily shouted to Brandy, “What’s this mean? Nine dollah, girlfriend?”

“Uh, no. That means it’s gluten free.”

Ah. I’m letting you all know, there are gluten-free options. Woot!

Brandy ordered the Huevos Rancheros – two eggs with black bean chili, roast poblano chili relish, queso blanco, red chili sauce, and a corn tortilla cheddar quesadilla, all for ten dollah, girlfriend! We each gobbled up half and then traded plates to finish the rest. Both dishes were TO DIE FOR. Amanda wasn’t kidding when she said the food is the focus.

But wait. I haven’t yet described the BAR part of Food Bar Food. Not only do they have a full bar, with four rotating taps, a dozen bottled and eight canned beers, a wall full of wine, and some enticing specialty cocktails like the Honey Badger and the Hair of the Salty Dog, but they also have an AWESOME Bloody Mary menu. We tried the Rooster (Kimchi spices, Sriracha, ginger, lime, and Thai basil), the Bloody Maria (cholula, jalapeno-infused tequila, chili salt and a pepperoncini), and the Bull, which arrived garnished with a ding-dang pork rind, for heaven’s sake!

We’re so excited about this new restaurant where our nourishment needs are the number one priority. When you get a minute, check out their dinner menu, too. You’ll see all sorts of unusual combinations created by seasoned chef Jeff Minnich – like sea scallops with avocado mousse, or the braised and crispy duck leg with cranberry balsamic sauce, and somehow the most expensive dish there is just twelve dollah, girlfriend!

Food Bar Food, located at 126 W. Bruce St., is now open Tuesday – Saturday for dinner, and Saturday – Sunday for brunch.

Copyright © 2012-14 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.

wheely good: trucks.

Posted on July 9, 2014 by junebug

Recently Brandy and I had a sudden, unexpected opportunity to go out at dinner time, followed by a massive bout of indecisiveness because without all the kids to please, our options were overwhelming. Sushi? Barbeque? Burgers? Wings? Then we thought, why not go somewhere we can just get a little of everything and share? And that magical place is TRUCKS, Harrisonburg’s very own dedicated food truck lot — one of my most favorite ideas our city has ever cooked up. The last time we were there, only one truck occupied the large space. It was time to pay a visit and see what had changed. And stuff our faces.

Despite an impromptu rain storm that delayed our arrival, coupled with our general ineptitude that always delays our arrival anywhere, and despite the fact that it was like ten minutes before closing, all the trucks were still open and serving customers. Grilled Cheese Mania was the first truck on the lot. Brandy and I published a story about them last July, and now twelve months later, they still draw a sizable, hungry crowd (one girl said, upon receiving her grilled cheese, “Thank the Lord!”). And now they’ve cozied up to their friendly neighbors: Lobsta Rollin’, La Taurina II, and Taste of Soul.

Can I just pause here for a second and direct your attention to the awesome VARIETY provided by these four little trucks? Next time you and your friends, or coworkers, or family members, or heck, even your whiny kids can’t agree where to eat, just come here. If you’re still whiny when you get your plate, which I doubt you’ll be, you can even eat at separate tables, grouchy-pants! But I predict that, inspired by the fellowship and solidarity of these trucks and their staffs, you’ll get a case of the warm fuzzies and chow down peacefully.

Anyhoo. Lobsta Rollin’ most always offers Lobsta Tacos (which we ordered), the Lobsta Roll (the dish that started this whole thing rollin’, ha), and a Lobsta Wrap. They’ve also served Lobsta Quesadillas, Lobsta Mac and Cheese, Lobsta Bisque, Lobsta Poppas, and Clam Chowdah. Oh, and they sometimes get truffles from Truffelicious!

Originally from Miami, they brought the lobsta craze to Harrisonburg just a few months ago, have been wildly successful, and are already expanding (spoiler alert!) to a store front near Massanutten! They’ll also be expanding their catering and delivery services so you’ll never be far from your lobsta.

The ladies at Taste of Soul — Ebony, Angela, and Areyl — served us some side dishes that will make you miss your grandmother in a most visceral way. The homey look of their truck, the mason jars lining the counter, their smiles and laughter, and their time-honored family recipes elicit a giddy yearning for a world that seemed only to exist when I was a carefree child. We ate their collard greens, their mac and cheese, their potato salad, and even a cupcake. All that was missing was the succulent pork chop, a sell-out that particular day. Also on the menu are fried chicken wings, boneless tenders, and hush puppies, and THIS MONDAY, you can get breakfast! Chicken and waffles plus a coffee. The newest addition to the lot, they’ve accomplished all this in a very short time.

Rounding out the lot is La Taurina II — II, because you might have already visited the first one. It’s been on North Main for about five years, and I’m so excited they were able to expand to a second location. They serve flavorful, delicious, fresh food at bargain prices. You really get a lot of food. They make tortas, tacos, burritos, quesadillas, and sopes, with a variety of meats to choose from. We ordered Tacos Campechana (Mexican sausage with pork shoulder) and we pretty much licked the plate, and then, I admit, I continued eating the sauce with my finger.

So, yes, if you were keeping track, the two of us ate three large plates of food and didn’t feel bad about it for one second. TRUCKS is located at 1321 South High Street, next to Tangier Seafood. Each truck has similar but not identical hours of operation, so we created a page dedicated to ALL of Harrisonburg’s food trucks. It’s called Truck, Yeah! and it lists all the trucks alphabetically with their hours and locations. If you know of a truck not listed and can supply the details, please email katie@ilovemyburg.com and I’ll be happy to add it! See you out and about!

more flower to you: sparrow’s floral design.

Posted on June 5, 2014 by junebug

Sparrow’s Floral Design

plant one on me: sparrow’s floral design.

Posted on June 4, 2014 by junebug

sparrow’s floral design

leaves in good hands: sparrow’s floral design.

Posted on June 2, 2014 by junebug

The simple, lovely flower has long been a source of joy and comfort to us humans. We look forward to spring when we can dig in the raw dirt and plant beauty. In the fall, we sentimentally press those coveted blossoms between the pages of heavy, thick books in the spirit of preservation. In winter, we might delight ourselves in the purchase of a bouquet, just to brighten the dull grayness of the room.

You’ve likely given or received flowers at least once in your life… for flowers deliver a message much larger than you can fit on that itty bitty card. They are nature’s poetry. Flowers transmit feelings – love, admiration, grief. At weddings, the hope tied to catching the bride’s bouquet. An anniversary gift that says, “I love you more than life itself.” During illness or bereavement, the encouraging reminder that life does, in fact, triumph.

Brandy and I were invited to a Flower Party and Potluck Dinner hosted by Amanda Tutwiler, owner of Sparrow’s Flowers. It was at Hillandale Park on a lovely evening. We all (14 of us) brought a few stems of whatever bloom we could pilfer and something to eat, and Amanda supplied the vases, greens (for the flower arrangements, not for eating), and of course, her expertise.

While folks arrived, we chatted about the usual: work and children. We talked about how irritating it is when your kids tattle on each other. I’ve basically told my kids, unless there is blood pouring from your body or something’s on fire, work it out yourselves! (Mother of the Year?) But they still tattle. Maybe I should implement a point system. Each kid starts with, say, five points. Whenever a kid tattles, he loses a point. If the accused is actually guilty of the crime, that kid loses two points. If anyone has any points leftover at the end of the day, he or she doesn’t get rolled up in a carpet and dangled off a bridge (Mother of the Year!). You know, it’s the whole “choose your battles” thing. Anyhoo. Food continued to arrive and we continued to drool… but the guest who was bringing plates and cups didn’t make it, so I hopped in my car and scooted down the street to Food Lion. Once back at the picnic shelter, I was hailed a hero and we chowed down.

During dinner we chatted about the upcoming Art Lotto (can’t wait!!), summer plans, and the show Fargo on FX that I’m completely obsessed with. And then the real fun started. We each grabbed a vase and just started piling in the flowers.

There were irises and lamb’s ear, daisies and azalea blossoms, baby’s breath and peonies and lots, lots more. It was fun, and festive, and pretty, and relaxing, and I thought, this would be a great activity to do at a wedding while waiting for the bride and groom to get to the reception. You know, while they and the wedding party are having photos taken, the rest of the guests could create centerpieces for the tables. Huh, huh? You are free to use that idea, and may I suggest hiring Amanda to facilitate it.

The bouquets were all different and spectacular, and we realized they sorta represented each of us. My arrangement was tall, extending way past the rim of the vase and sorta leaning over to one side. Like me. I heard, “Mine’s all over the place” and “Mine doesn’t make any sense.” And of course, Ella’s was just plain cute.

Everyone meandered back to the food table for a last nibble or two, and we all got to bring our beautiful arrangements home, plus a couple of floral sachets, too! My bouquet is still intact, still tall and lopsided, and still just as pretty as ever. It reminds me how nice it is to have fresh flowers in my home. I could get used to it.

You can contact Amanda at Sparrow’s Floral Design through her Facebook page, or if you don’t have Facebook, you can email her at sparrowsflowers@gmail.com.

beer witness: rocktown beer and music festival 2014.

Posted on May 26, 2014 by junebug

Rocktown Beer and Music Festival!
Copyright © 2012-14 · All Rights Reserved · ilovemyburg.com. Written content by Katie Mitchell. Photos by Brandy Somers. This material may not be copied, downloaded, reproduced, or printed without express written consent. Thank you for respecting our intellectual property.

beer hug: rocktown beer and music festival 2014.

Posted on May 23, 2014 by junebug

grin and beer it: rocktown beer and music festival 2014.

Posted on May 20, 2014 by junebug

After having attended the Rocktown Beer and Music Festival all four years, and having documented it on this site for three of those four, I’ve come to understand that the Beer Fest — now a beloved Harrisonburg tradition — is really just a large family reunion, minus the awkwardness. Beer is the ultimate social lubricant, after all.

You won’t run into eccentric relatives, like your Aunt Norma who always asks, “When are you ever going to have a baby?” Or your great Aunt Phyllis who’s determined to tell you about all twenty-three of her cats. Your teenage niece, who was so cute and fun at the last reunion but is now all brooding and angst-y and Snapchat-y. Or that relative you don’t know at all, who’s parked himself at the chips and dip. And Aunt Norma’s new hubby, who sneaks out to hide in his car until it’s all over.

You won’t run into that relative who constantly brags/complains about his all-important job, or the one who constantly brags/complains about his corns, bunions, sciatica, and that punk who moved in down the street. And the reunion ambles along a path that eventually arrives at the collective question: WHAT IS THIS WORLD COMING TO??

Nope. You won’t find any of that at the Rocktown Beer and Music Festival. But here’s what you will find.

1. Your buddies. You’ll see people you haven’t seen since last year’s Fest, and people you just saw yesterday. I run into my old friend Melissa every single year. I worked with her ages ago at Clayborne’s, and I never, ever see her anywhere… except the Beer Fest.

2. Music. This year, Rocktown Beer and Music Festival welcomed three bands: Harrisonburg favorites The Deadmen out of DC; the mood-elevating Bronze Radio Returnfrom Connecticut; and the versatile jam-band out of Baltimore, the Kelly Bell Band.

3. Food. Patrons enjoyed delectables from Clementine, Jack Brown’s, the Local Chop and Grill House, and Union Station. This is some of the best food in the city, making the Beer Fest way classier than your family reunion at picnic shelter #4, no offense.

4. And finally, duh, the beer. More than thirty breweries to sample, including seven from Virginia: Blue Mountain Brewery, Bold Rock Cider, Champion Brewing, Devil’s Backbone Brewing Co., St. George Brewing Co., Three Notch’d Brewing Co. (who just opened at tap room here in Harrisonburg, in the Urban Exchange building!!), and our hometown heroesThree Brothers Brewing Co. I’ve been thinking about those small mugs the Beer Fest gives to its guests, and I’m just gonna put this suggestion out there for what it’s worth. Some people like a wide variety of beer and like having ten 4-oz samples. However, I’m an IPA fan, and I would appreciate being able to get an 8-oz mug filled five times, since I know I’m sticking to IPA. Maybe in the future, we can select our preferred mug size when we order tickets?

5. The staff. You get friends, music, food, beer, and people who will help you. The Beer Fest’s more than 150 volunteers keep the lines moving, the music playing, and the place clean and safe.

And now here is something exciting: Rocktown Beer and Music Festival Fall Edition!! Yep! September 20, 2014, come on down to the Turner Pavilion for another festival. So far they’ve lined up thirty breweries; the band lineup will be announced by June 1st, and tickets go on sale July 1st. And hey, maybe Harrisonburg’s newest brewery, Pale Fire Brewing, will ready by then! If you ask me, I think it would be wise to just go ahead and have your family reunion here. Everyone will get along much better, trust me.

class and principals: harrisonburg education foundation gala.

Posted on May 12, 2014 by junebug

In honor of Teacher Appreciation Week, which was last week, we’d like to tell you a little about an event we recently attended that celebrated everyone involved in the educational process and raised funds for educational endeavors in our Harrisonburg schools – the annual Harrisonburg Education Foundation Gala.

While we probably all agree that education in itself is important (i.e., learning is important, curiosity is important, cultural progress is important), our educational system has become highly politicized during my fifteen-year career. Supporters of teachers have for years bemoaned the paltry salaries of teachers, asserting that teachers work far more hours than most full-time employees and receive, hour for hour, far less pay. Others believe we do nothing but “babysit” kids all day and then get a three-month vacation. But I’ve always believed that if you made teaching a high-paying job, it would attract the wrong kind of person to the profession. Because let’s face it: to be a teacher, you can’t really be selfish. Or greedy. Or materialistic. You wouldn’t last a day. You can’t apply a capitalist, profits-driven model to public education. We welcome all students – not one is turned away – regardless of whatever gifts or shortcomings they have, and we take them as far as we can. Period. We get no bonus for exceeding some quota of successful students. That’s proof enough that we don’t do it for the money. We do it because we love young people. I know, because I am a teacher, and so is Brandy. And not to toot our own horns, but teachers are givers, not takers. We’re givers – we give to students, give to our colleagues, and give to the community, maybe more than you know. And we don’t have a ton of resources with which to give, and neither, it seems, do the politicized entities who employ us. So we find a way to provide for each student’s needs, regardless of who’s in office or the political climate or whatever. We find a way because we love the kids.

And because public education is a non-profit enterprise, it needs to raise funds from time to time. That’s where organizations like the Harrisonburg Education Foundation come in. Their sole purpose is to supplement local, state, and federal support by raising funds to “award grants, provide scholarships, and support enrichment opportunities in the Harrisonburg schools” that otherwise might not be possible. And especially when money’s tight and budgets are slashed, Harrisonburg Education Foundation’s work becomes absolutely vital. They keep programs in place that might otherwise fall victim to a crappy economy and apathetic politicians. Harrisonburg students’ education is better because of HEF and the folks—companies and citizens alike—who graciously donate to it. With the help of volunteers and donors, they throw one humdinger of a party, celebrating everyone involved in our schools and collecting some much-needed funds, too.

So Brandy and I were honored and excited to be invited to this year’s HEF Gala at the Barn at Kline’s Mill (one of Early Katering’s two venues). This place is lovely. Located in Linville, the Barn sits on ten gorgeous acres with inspiring views. It seats up to 250 people and can be used for all sorts of occasions, from weddings to family reunions. They have another location in town, on Evelyn Byrd Avenue, which seats about 120 and has a more traditional rather than rustic atmosphere. Or, they can cater your event wherever you desire to have it. Their menu is HUGE, and having attended several events catered by Early’s, I can safely say that every item is delicious. Being teachers who are used to wolfing down half a Lean Cuisine in 16.5 minutes each day, Brandy and I were probably more excited about the ample buffet than anything else.

We donned our country and western duds and drove on out to the barn for a fun evening of dancing, eating, drinking, socializing, and money-giving! I listened to Black Sabbath in the car beforehand to prepare for a heavy dose of country music, and on the way, we were greeted by this rainbow:

The inside of the Barn is clad in beautiful, light-colored pine walls and lit with large, soft white globe lights. Scores of dining tables filled one side of the barn and a bar, food tables, bandstand, and dancing area comprised the other side. Plenty of room for mingling, glass clinking, face stuffing, and boot stomping.

The evening went like this: a silent auction, followed by a line-dancing lesson, and then a live auction, delightfully interspersed with meatballs and artichoke dip and fresh fruit and trips outside to gaze at the beautiful landscape and bleat at nearby sheep.

Dozens of businesses and individuals donated auction items, including
* Movie night for ten with popcorn
* Drum lessons
* Whine-and-Dine with the Superintendent
* a wagon full of gardening tools and supplies
* lift tickets to Massanutten
* several gift baskets (one for dogs, one for cats, one called Family Game Night, one called A Day at the Beach)
* exercise-related packages from RMH, Crossfit, Hot Yoga
* a river trip
* JMU tickets
* tutoring sessions
* tickets to HHS events
* and a whole bunch of other prizes. Like 60.

You could also purchase a bottle of wine for $20 and possibly win a prize that way! The line dancing was a hoot – the instructor yelled, “Grape vine! Kick! Stomp! Shimmy!” but the pupils did more like shuffle-bump into the person next to you-stumble-laugh… at first, anyway. Then they got the hang of it and were really quite good!

Lots of people attended the party, and I couldn’t help but notice that many of them – most of them, probably – were teachers, raising funds for their own profession. And I wondered how many of them would drag themselves out of bed the next morning — Sunday — and go diligently to their classrooms to prepare a few more things for the week… taking time away from their own families to serve the greater good.

Look, there are still like three full weeks of school left, so if you (woopsie) forgot to appreciate a teacher last week, there’s still time. Trust me — we accept thank you’s, tokens of appreciation, and free stuff ANY TIME. If you don’t currently have a teacher, think back over the teachers of your past and surprise one of them. If you are a teacher, pat yourself on the back, pour a glass of wine, thank God the year’s almost over, and know that we love you, very very much!

change of art: arts council progressive party, 2014.

Posted on May 7, 2014 by junebug

art of the matter: arts council progressive party, 2014.

Posted on May 5, 2014 by junebug

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home is where the art is: arts council progressive party, 2014.

Posted on May 1, 2014 by junebug

Harrisonburg, you know how to throw a good shin-dig. I’ve been to some that were all pulled pork and PBR. Some that were wine and cheese and silent films. Some that were champagne and eggs benedict. Some that were margaritas and enchiladas. Some that were craft beer and local food. I even hosted one that was sushi lessons and gourmet cake. But this one was something brand new.

I went to my first-ever Progressive Party with Brandy and I LOVE the concept. A progressive party is one in which guests move from one home to another to enjoy a multi-course meal. Cocktails and appetizers at one location, dinner at the next, coffee and dessert at yet another, and so on. Until a couple weeks ago, my only experience with such a thing has been at my own house. I sorta have my own version of the progressive party… snacks for the kids on the coffee table, then dinner at the kitchen table, followed by maybe a popsicle or ice cream sandwich on the porch. And cocktails for me throughout. Okay, so maybe that’s not really a “party,” but there usually is a fair amount of laughing, dancing, and spilling. And yes, I have been known to make a meal out of cheese, crackers, and rolled up salami held together with those little festive toothpicks.

Anyway, Brandy and I were lucky enough to be invited to the Arts Council’s Fourth Annual Progressive Party. Because our lives are a sitcom, the evening started out strangely. First, the people we’d invited as our “dates” for the evening both succumbed to last-minute illness. Thankfully, Brandy’s sister Brook was available, and that woman went from sweat pants to cocktail dress and drove thirty miles in like 43 minutes. Then, we weren’t sure where exactly we were going, so there’s that. That, and trying to explain the location to Brook. Once there, Brandy managed to get her purse caught in the lace of her dress and then pointed out the three holes in her pantyhose. Meanwhile, I regretted choosing to wear my “superbra” because I couldn’t stop tugging at that thing.

Now, it’s hard for a herd of 260 partiers to eat dinner at one person’s house, so this Progressive Party deviated from the norm a bit. All the guests assembled for happy hour at the home of Chuck and Geri Barker (co-hosted by Keri and Joel Davis). Their spacious home, patio, and garden perfectly accommodated all of us, and we enjoyed a lovely selection of beer, wine, and hors d’oeuvres. We saw lots of friends there, like Mike and Suzi, and Lindsay and Don, and Rachel and Andrew. I complimented Patrice on her dress, and then I learned that apparently, you can RENT clothes. I mean, clothes that are not a tuxedo. You can rent a dress for an evening. And by “rent,” I don’t mean buy it, wear it, spray it with Febreze and return it for a refund the next day. I mean, you can RENT a dress. Perhaps the inventor of rent-a-dress and the inventor of the progressive party are one and the same.

At about six o’clock, we were instructed to move to our dinner location. All 260 guests were divided among roughly twenty host homes for a home-cooked meal. Brandy, Brook, and I were assigned to Meg and Bill Wightman’s. In a typical progressive party, Meg and Bill would just serve us the next course, like salad, and then we’d go to another home. But because of the crazy number of people involved in this thing, we stayed put at the Wightman’s for SIX more courses, to be deliciously outlined in the photos that follow. Prepare to drool.

While we waited for everyone in our group to arrive, we looked around their adorable home. The kitchen is gorgeous, and that coupled with Meg and Bill’s unbelievable calmness assured me we were in for a good meal. We admired precious art work by their kids, Alice and Liam, like the butter dish Alice made at You Made It. And we saw Bill’s collection of defaced dollar bills. He would buy defaced bills from the bank, rescuing them from certain shredding.

Everyone arrived, and to our delight, we were joined by Chuck and Geri Barker (from whose house we’d just come) and Lindsay and Don Denny. So our group consisted of Meg, Bill, Lindsay, Don, Chuck, Geri, Brook, Brandy, and me. Then the food started. First, this martini glass filled with pink snapper and mango salsa plus jalapeno — yow! Man, that was delish. They get their fish from Pickford’s Fresh Seafood — it’s overnight-ed from Hawaii!! And wine from Vintage Wines — both stores are across from Costco. Oh, and Vintage Wines has tastings on Fridays and Saturdays.

Next up was spaghetti with Pecorino cheese and pork and some other things I missed because I was eating noisily. Then a salad of baby greens, homemade Hawaiian bread croutons, and goat cheese.

Between courses, we chatted about family and friends, about death and legacy (Geri’s mom had recently passed), about kids, and about nearly dying from canoe-related mishaps, which nearly everyone at the table had experienced.

Then came THE MEAT. Omgahd, the meat. Lordy. Bill grilled these lamb chops and served them over this butternut squash, red lentil, and coconut puree, and I think there was spinach and garlic in there somewhere, and heavens-to-Betsy, it was SO SCRUMPTIOUS. And the little flatbreads with coriander chutney — Lord.

After that Meg asked, “Is anyone else hot, or is it just my stage in life?” Or maybe it’s that she’d been running in and out of the kitchen all night. At any rate, the next course cooled us off: a grapefruit champagne sorbet. And finally, dessert. A blueberry-white chocolate bread pudding with amaretto sauce. You wouldn’t believe the reaction. Everyone just wanted to move in. We all fell in love with the Wightman’s at the first bite.

Lamentably, the meal ended, even though I was stuffed to the gills and couldn’t possibly have eaten more. Except maybe one more lamb chop. Or five. At any rate, the final “course” of the progressive party was a performance by Blue Label at Court Square Theater. They played songs by artists from Elvis to Stevie Wonder to Lady Gaga. We heard “Happy” and “Footloose” and “PYT.” And people were dancing like CRAZY. I was seriously trying not to scald someone with my coffee as I wiggled my way down the aisle. And once I felt I had safely digested most of that delicious meal, Brandy, Brook and I cut a rug, too! In another part of town, in fact just a few yards away, MACRoCk was raging… but I’m pretty sure we had just as much fun.

If you ever get a chance to attend the Arts Council Progressive Party, you won’t regret it. Not only will you be treated to an exquisite meal, but you’ll have warm conversations with friends old and new, you’ll get to dress up (even if you have to rent it, girl), you’ll get to hear some music and dance your feet off, and most importantly, you’ll be helping the Arts Council continue to provide Harrisonburg with meaningful art experiences. Hope to see you next time!

time will tell: some of my parts, blue nile.

Posted on April 22, 2014 by junebug

Brenda Burner: aunt.
When I was little, I was eavesdropping on a conversation my aunt Brenda was having with my mom. Brenda explained how she thought graying women were beautiful and how she couldn’t wait to have long gray hair. I had not thought about beauty in that way until that moment. Brenda has a few gray hairs (usually wrapped up in one giant roller) and she gets more beautiful each year. I’m happy that my nosiness intersected with one of her (many) chat sessions with my mother. Brenda was later my Lamaze coach and continues to be a strong female role model for me.

Jay Herr: friend.
Jay lived across the street from me in college. One evening we were on our way to a Pearl Jam concert with a bunch of friends. We made a restroom pit stop and when we returned to the interstate we were in bumper-to-bumper traffic. I complained “Aw man! If we didn’t make that stop, we could have missed this accident.” Jay replied, “…or we could’ve been in it…” This one line has made me more aware of my complaints, even to this day.

L’Tanya Sims: friend.
I met LT when IHOP first opened and we both waited tables there. What I admire most about L’Tanya, other than her enormous heart, is her ability to lay down roots and create a sense of community around her…where ever she may be. Give her a box and it becomes a home where all are welcome. Give her a big city and she will find a nook and become mayor of that nook. Give her a naive college girl (that would be me) and she will look out for her and see that she makes it out alive.
Just for you, LT: Mens Rea!

Teddy Helsley: father.
When I took this photo it was the third time I’ve met this man. Each time I leave him, I leave with a better understanding of myself. He contributed to half of my DNA and before I even ask, his stories explain the parts of me that have been mysterious up to that point. It’s sometimes as if he reads my mind. He has a kind, calm soul and I look forward to making more memories with him and his family.

know by heart: some of my parts, blue nile.

Posted on April 21, 2014 by junebug

When a friendship is forged in disaster, I think it means more.

It’s easy to be friends when life is sweet, when things are looking up and laughter is the norm. When life is good, our edges are smooth. We appear peaceful and benign. We radiate contentedness. We’re easy to approach, and easy to spend time with.

When life turns sour, as it does for us all from time to time, our ugliness hangs out. Our bitterness rises up, our tempers flare, our patience recedes. We go to bed worried and wake up sad and are just AWFUL to be around.

Anyone who would love you at your absolute ugliest is the truest form of friend there is. I keep using “we” and “you” as if to exclude myself from the very idea I’m writing about. So let me rephrase that. Anyone who would love ME at my absolute ugliest is the truest friend I could have. And I’m lucky to have a few of those precious people in my life. And my most dear friend, Brandy Somers, entered my world when I wasn’t exactly at my prettiest, and she recently complimented me in a way I wasn’t expecting. I knew she was putting together this massive photography show called Some of My Parts, and I knew she needed a photo of me for it, but it wasn’t until I was there, at the Blue Nile, looking at eighty-some photos on the wall, that I fully understood.

Her idea was to portray her life’s timeline through photographs. When we think of a timeline, we think of major events along a linear path, marked by years divided into neat increments. But life is so much deeper (and messier) than that — life follows no two-dimensional line… and really, it’s not the events themselves that are important; it’s the people involved in those events. So she made this list of, like I said, eighty-some people who held an important place on the timeline of her life, and she contacted them all and asked to take their pictures. She traveled all over the place, literally hundreds if not thousands of miles, to find each person and take a NEW photo. For mine, it was easy: she just walked the two hundred steps from her classroom to mine and clicked the camera. But some people on her list were in Alaska! Australia, even! So she had to get creative there. And some people had already passed… so she assembled a collection of things that represent those folks and snapped a photo of that.

Then I realized my portrait would be hanging among all these other important people. Really? Me? But… she’s seen all my ugly parts!

Every single photo is captioned. She showed it to me later — it’s FIFTEEN TYPED PAGES of captions she wrote. Mine says this:

“Katie Mitchell: friend, coworker.

Like two thorny roses rising from the ashes…that pretty much describes the start of our friendship. We experienced similar let downs around the same time in life…and Katie was my go-to, my levelheaded rock. She is a wonderful friend, teacher and mother. I love her so much I could start a blog about our friendship…oh, wait…we did that.”

I was so nervous to read my caption! (It seems so silly, but… well, you’ll understand in a minute. Stay with me here.) My face hung on the wall amid dozens of others, and I liked seeing it. Although my crows feet have deepened, my eyes are still bright, and I think I looked how I feel I look when sitting across from my best friend: safe, loved, and of course, a wee bit amused.

The whole process, naturally, got me thinking about my timeline and the people who would be on it. Of course my parents, who were present at most every major event in my life… my best childhood friend Kathy, who would ride bikes with me down to the creek, whose mom took us to see Dirty Dancing at the theater, with whom I’d stay up ALL NIGHT eating Twizzlers and playing Missile Command, Space Invaders, and Yars Revenge. And even my bully in middle school. I’m pretty sure he ending up killing someone and is still in jail. But he certainly made his mark on me, and he’d have to be on my timeline.

When you scroll through these portraits and read the captions (and this is just a tiny portion of them), no doubt you’ll be touched. But I struggle to describe the effect of them all, hanging together on the wall in a small space… all the faces gazing out collectively at the viewers… echoes of memories past and voices present. A collision of time and space.

Shawn Nicholson: cousin.
When I was little, I thought Shawn was the coolest.dude.ever. I was annoying and he put up with me and made my days more interesting. I feared death a few times riding in his Mustang…then there was that time he shot me…but other than that he protected me from the world with his real advice and stories of trial and error.
Just for you, cuz: BB to the butt.

PLUS, realizing that a good many people featured in the show are actually standing in the room with you. Everyone seeing double! It’s possible Brandy was the only person there who knew all the people there and on the wall. I probably knew twenty-five percent: most of these folks were strangers to me! How could I not know more of them, when they are so important to someone who’s important to me? But we ALL knew that everyone in that room was important to this woman’s life, and she took great pains to honor that.

Lori Simmers: former classmate.
Lori and I went to high school together. When we graduated, Lori married her high school sweetheart and asked me to photograph their wedding. She believed in me and that stands out. I shot her wedding (my first wedding ever) on a Canon film camera.

Lee Parton: friend…damn near brother.
My brother-from-another-mother for sure. Lee and I met and became insta-friends my freshman year at JMU. The bond was familial from the start and all the ups and downs in both our lives have only brought us closer. We have survived being roommates twice…I’m still not sure how that was ever possible. Lee probably doesn’t know it, but I may not have made it through my first year of college without his push. I admire his determination. He is a fighter, in the best of ways.
Just for you, Dawg: Professor Parton…I need mah keys!

And so lots of people who’d never before crossed paths — ever — met each other that evening and came to understand where they stood in the story of Brandy’s life, in relation to each other.

Katie Turner: friend, neighbor.
What I love about Katie is that she is always up for a spontaneous, fun adventure. Whether it be hiking Old Rag (in the wrong direction), getting turned sideways, tipped and scarred in a canoe on the Shenandoah river, midnight rides to Wendy’s, or playing real life Where’s Waldo on road trips…she showed me that positive, happy memories can be made during difficult times, even on random weekday evenings.
Just for you, Katie: Eagles suuuuck!

Jake Miller: uncle.
Jake is an electrician. One day Nanny and I took him lunch at a house he was working on. The house belonged to a photographer for National Geographic and I was totally enthralled with the quality of images all around his house. While Nanny and Jake chatted I wandered from room to room looking at the photographs. That day, I decide I wanted to do that. I wanted to take photos that mattered to people…that were memorable. If my uncle Jake had any other career, that moment may have never happened for me.

Maurice Burner: Pawpaw.
A man of few words but the shrapnel in his leg proves that he has quite a courageous story to tell. This Dale Earnhardt lovin’ father of seven is a pro at the boob-grab-photo-bomb (with his wife of course). He is earth conscious and the best farmer I know. He taught me the value of backbreaking labor with the reward of fresh produce at the end of the day.

The impact of watching that phenomenon unfold was akin to being slapped with her big ole raw bleeding heart. Not in a horrific way, but in the sense that all the little bits of Brandy I’d seen over the years were now together, in one space, at one time, as if some great secret had finally been revealed. By the time I finally composed myself long enough to look at every photo and read every caption, including mine, I was stinging with emotion. They say the human brain is the most complex object in the universe. But maybe it’s the heart.

Nanny (Betty Longerbeam): best friend, grandmother. (RIP)
There’s a video of the hospital waiting room on the day my son, Blake, was born. In the video, everyone is glued to the window surrounding the nursery as Blake is carried in by his father after my cesarean. Oohing and aahing filled the clip…except for Nanny. I could hear her concerned voice asking repeatedly, “Where’s Brandy? How is she? When can we see her?” Then she proceeded to count Blake’s fingers and toes…as she always did with all newborns. When Ella was born, my Nanny at the age of 70, drove from Strasburg, Virginia to Wilmington, North Carolina to meet her the day after she was delivered. Four miles from the hospital, Nanny was in a car accident that totaled her car. She was transported to the same hospital as me and when I wheeled myself down to see her, she waited until her young doctor turned around and gave him a trademark Nanny-breast-shake behind his back. She was the youngest 70 year old I have ever met. There was never a question in my mind that my Nanny loved me. She brought me into her home when I was a fresh baby human, cared for me until she passed and provided me with a lifetime of memories. She taught me how to drive and play rummy and laugh at life.
Her birthday is April 13, and this show is dedicated to her.
Just for you, Nanny: Go buck a fuzzard.

The moral of the story is… well, there are three. One, I am inspired to somehow incorporate this concept into my life. Because at the end of the day, we all just want to know we mattered to somebody. That we’re part of someone’s timeline. Two, what might seem like a casual or chance encounter with someone could change his or her life. Handle with care. And three, you have to see this. You have to. And you still can, upstairs at the Blue Nile (which is located at 181 North Main Street in Harrisonburg) between now and April 29. You’ll see a few more portraits here on the blog tomorrow and Wednesday, but please believe me when I say YOU REALLY HAVE TO BE THERE.

read it and keep: altered book contest, massanutten regional library.

Posted on April 14, 2014 by junebug

Having been teaching and studying literature, and reading and writing for a long time, I’ve amassed a small library of books. They’re everywhere… all over the house. I haven’t quite made the leap to the e-reader yet, partially because I remember The Great CD Conversion of 1988 during which I spent a small fortune (for a 16 year old) replacing all my music cassettes. The thought of replacing just a tiny percentage of my book collection (say, the Joyce Carol Oates part, for example) is just too much to absorb. Plus, books are just prettier than an e-reader. I love how they look piled in a stack. I love moving them from the “To Read” stack to the “Finished” shelf. And some of their covers are nothing short of exquisite. In many cases, commissioned artists design those covers. And so a real paper and cardboard book is a work of art, through and through.

It’s sad to think of a book in a dumpster. In the landfill. But to hoard every book I’ve ever owned to prevent it from ending up in the trash is… well… hoarding. The neat freak in me can’t do that.

Much to my relief, my inner neat freak and my inner art lover reconciled once and for all when Brandy and I attended Massanutten Regional Library’s Altered Books Contest and Gallery last Friday. The practice of altering gives old, perhaps worn out books — books on the very brink of disposal — a new life and purpose. Their tattered pages no longer have endure the flips and tugs of careless readers; that pressure is gone. All an altered book has to do anymore is sit somewhere and look awesome, interesting, beautiful. The newly rendered “book” even gets a new name, as I noticed at the library’s display. Truly, a rebirth.

So we browsed the altered books, submitted for competition by adults (ages 18 and older) and youngsters (ages 12 – 17). We saw the piece created by last year’s contest winner, Diane Landis, entitled In a Dark, Dark House — she’d used several discarded books to create a majestic castle. Some were quite useful… like Carol K. Smith’s Hooked on Books. She turned books into a coat rack with a frame. Some were really large, like From Tree to Book to Tree Again — a big tree sculpture made by several artists out of pages of books.

Nancy Dauer built this huge loom thing out of torn up and disassembled books (From Words to Yarns — ha ha!). And Ben Fraits somehow glued the pages of his books together so they became completely solid, then carved them like a block of wood.

Anna Thornbury and Andrew Shantz cleverly constructed literal interpretations of their books. For example, a wooden stake pierced the cover of the book Dracula; the book Titanic appeared to be split in half by an iceberg; Joan of Arc was partially charred. They called this collection A Novel Death.

The kids’ entries were even more impressive. Explosion featured origami exploding from the center of a school textbook. For Bird’s Eye View, Chantel Pence made a diorama out of a book. And in Alice is Stuck in Wonderland, a barbie doll Alice protrudes — stuck, indeed — from the center of the book.

All this awesomely creative art work simply is not something you can do with your Kindle. Sorry. Soon the library will announce winners in both categories — adult and youth — the winning “books” will be on display April 14 – 19. Can’t wait to find out how this story ends! And stay tuned for more photos this week!

in with the old: shabby love.

Posted on April 3, 2014 by junebug

old country: shabby love.

Posted on March 31, 2014 by junebug

I had this Ziggy tee shirt when I was a kid, and I probably wore it 360 days of the year for like three years. Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but it was one of those shirts that, as soon as Mom washed it, it was back on my body. Now, as a mom myself, I find myself taking certain garments out of rotation at laundry time because I’m so dang sick of seeing that Angry Birds shirt.

But we all have things like the Ziggy tee shirt. Things we cherish and can’t seem to let go of, even when they’re tattered and no longer even fit us. When that happened, Grandma got out the sewing kit and I ended up with a new Ziggy pillow. Shabby as it was, I loved that shirt. It was soft, and it was familiar, and it was Ziggy.

There are other shabby things we love. Brandy’s Dale Earnhardt coffee mug, which belonged to her grandmother. Also her sofa: somehow the torn fabric and stuffing sticking out all over has made it more comfortable and lovable. When your $4000 mattress gives you a backache, where do you end up? That’s right – on the shabby 1973 sofa you pilfered from your childhood home.

A child’s blankie gets pretty shabby. There’s usually one corner of it that spends more time in the kid’s mouth than the rest of it… that part’s extra faded and permanently wrinkly… but those (seemingly disgusting) details are what define the blankie as “MINE!” and no one else’s. Special. And pants. We all have a pair of shabby sweat pants, jeans, yoga pants, pajama bottoms… in fact in my house, it’s not uncommon to hear, “Man, I can’t wait to put on my shabby pants.” We love shabby.

Old people, too, get kinda shabby. Now, I don’t mean that in any derogatory way. I feel I’m allowed to talk about old people because I was raised by an old person. I can also speak freely about nerds and awkward people because I belong to those groups. But when you visit an important old person in your life, and you smell her White Shoulders perfume and you see her shabby easy chair, the dent of the cushion reflecting the shape of her backside perfectly and you see her Desert Rose dishes and the rabbit ears on her Magnavox, admit it: you are tranquilized by nostalgia and you don’t want to leave.

And when you yearn for old things in your not-so-old life, so you can enjoy a feeling of nostalgia before you’re old enough to actually experience it… or if you ARE old but you unfortunately got rid of all your cool nostalgic belongings already, you can capture that feeling… at Shabby Love.

Shabby Love specializes in reclaiming, upcycling, and refurbishing old, otherwise unwanted stuff. And I don’t know about you, but I think things that have been rescued — buildings, pets, furniture, books — have a special kind of beauty. I walked through the store — with its wooden table and blue chest and green china cabinet and red side table and cheese grater light fixture — and I just wanted to take all those beautiful orphans home. To add to the personality of the furniture, each piece that’s been painted has a name. I met “Edna,” “Stan,” and “Maggie,” and they all certainly spoke to me.

We saw an old typewriter and old suitcases made of wood. WOOD. Who would want to lug around a solid wood suitcase?? Practical or not, those things are gorgeous. And saw beautiful lockets and pendants, necklaces and brooches and bracelets, hanging there… waiting.

If you’re curious about the paint they use, it’s called Chalk Paint, and you can even attend a workshop at Shabby Love on April 12th. Just sign up and bring a (reasonably sized) piece of (preferably rescued) furniture. They’ll supply the rest! And your life can be a little shabbier. Turns out shabby’s not too shabby after all.

the thaw.

Posted on March 30, 2014 by junebug

What do people do when they’re cooped up during an extra-long winter? They come up with tons of good ideas, and then unleash them all at once at the first sign of (finally!!) spring.

This is one of those weeks where you need serious equipment and endurance. A LOT of people have been working hard to put together A LOT of events, for YOU. Including First Friday artists and hosts. And Progressive Party hosts. And MACRoCk crazy people. And Women in Focus organizers. YES — all that and more is descending on our city this week. So pack your tent (just kidding — I don’t think you’re allowed to camp out), your Camelbak, your orthotics, and some Power Bars, because this week’s gonna deplete the heck out of you. In a good way.

Check out what’s Happyning right here!

xoxo!

time travel: factory antique mall, verona.

Posted on March 25, 2014 by junebug

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