Visions of Â a “goat dress” had been dancing in myÂ head for many years. In 1985, after purchasing Sarah Howard Stoneâ€™s first book, French Handsewing, I studied it with a passion. One page, in particular, spoke to me. It showed row after row of antique laces, including what I call goat lace. I had to have some of this.
Â At that time, I was in the middle of my Mother Earth phase. Perhaps some readersÂ recallÂ theÂ publication, The Mother Earth News, or Carla Emery’s Old Fashioned Cook Book. These were daily reading for me.
On our 3 acresÂ stood a 50 year old, formerly upscale, two-room chicken house, where our cocky Rhode Island RedÂ rooster and his girls bunked. TheÂ adjoining roomÂ housed aÂ gaggle of geese and a few white Peking ducks.Â Â Next door to the water fowl was the pony.Â Her stall looked out over our 60â€™ x 60â€™ vegetable garden and adjacent to that was the goat mansion, my favorite place in the world except for my sewing room.