The summer after seventh grade, I spent a month at the beach with my mother’s family. There were cousins everywhere and formal lunches at my great grandmothers table: silver, bone china, crystal and finger bowls. I am an only child, and we didn’t use china at home. The whole business was overwhelming.
All that was forgotten when I roamed alone on the dirt paths and shoreline. There were acres of grass and an empty beach that seemed endless. The green grass I knew paved New York City parks and crowded camp meadows in the Adirondacks. Opportunities to be truly alone were extremely rare. This felt new and very good.
Thinking back, the seed for my home goods business Catherine’s Table must have been planted that summer. Imagining the business, my first thought was of a quiet place where you could curl up with a book and a beautiful mug; comforting moments where the space and time were yours alone.
There is a storm outside my window as I write. Bits of thunder are tumbling through the sky. Our big dog Lance is resting at my feet. It feels like the peace I found that summer.