Christmas in Evergreen Tidings of Joy - Nancy Naigle Page 0,22
deceiving, because when they walked inside, it looked like the place went on forever.
A fan kept the warm air circulating in the old building. It smelled of craftsmanship. Oil, turpentine, and paint. People gathered shoulder-to-shoulder around a table on the right side of the shop, working on Christmas ornaments. The table was filled with paint, glue, glitter and beads, and in the back of the shop she could see artists working in other mediums. The chatter among the artists was melodic, and the sound of the heavier tools back in the glassblowing area only added interest. She’d never seen anything like it.
Who’s to say what normal is, anyway?
Maybe this was the article she was meant to write about Evergreen.
Chapter Nine
Michelle was seated at the craft table in the Turner Tinker Shop, now also known as the arts center, making a Christmas ornament. David sat next to her, his attention intent on the work in front of him. With Thomas out of town, she and David had been taking advantage of some of the new classes here at the arts center, and they weren’t the only ones.
Every chair at the table was filled.
Michelle was glad to see town residents taking part in the offerings. As new mayor, she hoped to get neighbors engaged as much as possible, keeping the heartbeat of this town alive and prospering. Entrepreneurs, like Lisa reopening Daisy’s Country Store, and Elliott here at the Turner Tinker Shop, were already breathing fresh life into Evergreen.
Michelle knew Elliott had always been good at fixing things, but his skill as a craftsman really shined on this renovation. The outside was still as Plain Jane as could be, but inside the place dazzled, just waiting for inspired artists and craftspeople to put their hands to good works.
What had once been a space full of wooden shelves, dark and dusty, had been transformed with just a few coats of bright white paint. It’d been such an easy fix and had done wonders on the old dusty building, but Elliott hadn’t stopped there.
He’d updated the old workroom, tearing out a wall and adding a work-height counter and shelving along the entire back wall. A series of cabinets, drawers and shelves, even diamond-shaped bins perfect for storing the hand-spun wool being made here, since they rebranded it an arts center. Henry had added a herd of Angora goats to his farm to improve the petting zoo, and Elliott had immediately seen the win-win to buy the angora from Henry to teach folks how to spin their own yarn on the drop needle spindle that’d been in the storage room unused for who knew how long.
Michelle couldn’t wait to have the team update the city website with the recent additions in the new year and find ways to connect more activities to the calendar to grow tourism for the town.
Elliott came from the glassblowing room carrying ornaments. “Remember. A good Christmas ornament has color, evokes a feeling of nostalgia and is made with care.” He placed the ornaments in the middle of the table for them to decorate. He leaned over David’s shoulder. “What are you making there?”
“Oh, this?” David held up the ornament he’d just finished, painted gold. “It’s a key ornament for my Aunt Hannah. I really want her to know how much fun I think she is.”
Elliott set the palms of his hands on his knees, to David’s level at the table. “She definitely is that.” The words were simple, but Michelle caught a hint of something more in the statement.
Michelle leaned over to see David’s project. “I see, like the key that started the church bells. I still can’t believe you and Hannah figured that out last year. It was absolutely amazing. I can still remember hearing those bells come out of nowhere that night.” She placed a hand on his arm. “Still gives me chills. That’s a really good ornament. She’s going to love it.”
“Yep. What’s yours?” he asked.
She held her ornament so he could get a better look. “It’s a candle for your dad. See, last year we were searching for candles in the storeroom at Daisy’s Country Store for the midnight candlelight processional, and that’s when I knew I—” She caught herself. The moment she’d known she was interested in Thomas wasn’t exactly the conversation she needed to be having with his son. She corrected the course of the conversation. “I really love candles.”
“Cool,” he said. “Then, he’ll probably like that too.”