Drinking Chocolate from Salt on KPTV

How Thoughts Became Things

I spent the next five weeks painting, building shelves from old-growth Douglas fir reclaimed from demolished warehouses, designing and installing lighting, and buying jars for salt—meshing the realities of hidden nails and splintered wood with Jennifer’s glowing mental image. 

We piled the newly built shelves and tables with buckets of fresh flowers, vintage vases, and jars of salt and hung the walls with a series of incredibly beautiful nudes drawn in Conté crayon, charcoal, and watercolor by a local artist. Then we invited all our friends over for a party, and opened our doors to the public.

Strangely, people were interested in our salt. 

Welcome to The Meadow

Imagine now that you've lost your home. The place where you belong.  You know it's out there, but where?  

The Meadow is that home.  It's your home, and we welcome you, always.  

I'm Mark, the owner of The Meadow, and I'd like to make that welcome personal.  If you were at my front door I'd ask you in, or we'd sit on the front steps.  I'd suggest you let one of our two very lion-like cats doze on your lap, and I'd offer you something to drink. Most likely we'd talk about your travels, or mine.  The unexpected kindness shown by a train conductor.  The miracle pastry from a corner bakery.  The sunset from a clifftop patio, nibbling salty snacks and a bitter cocktail.  In short, we'd be together, joined by a love of the flavors and sights and people that connect us all.