Spider Web Farm Road?
Ewww. Who would want to live
there?
Me!
We happened upon Spider Web Farm Road while meandering. We were in the car and knew the final destination
was “home”, but were taking our sweet time getting there from Burlington,
VT. The trip had started with a purpose –
developing and rehearsing a new theatre piece in Maine. That objective had been accomplished (for
now) – leaving farms, old cemeteries, and interesting little towns to
explore.
So when I spotted the street sign for Spider Web Road, I hollered,
“Stop! Let’s take a photo!”. We turned around and then noticed it was more
than just a ROAD – it was (as the sign proclaimed) the SPIDER WEB FARM.
Curious… We had
stopped at a couple farms already to pick up home grown corn, peaches, caramel
made with goat milk, and admire huge sunflowers. Surely this was the same as those other farms
– a FARM named SPIDER WEB, not a farm that GREW spider webs! Growing spider webs is only something that
would happen in a children’s picture book.
But we couldn’t drive on without making sure…
So back in the car and up the hill we went. An old red two story barn-looking house was
on the right – and a red, open large garage on the left. As we parked I saw the old sign hanging on
the house – SPIDER WEB FARM… And as we
got out, a little old man peeked out the second story open window and hollered
out to us that he would be right down.
Soon we met Mr. Will Knight – the proprietor of Spider
Web Farm. He is in his late 80s (I think
he told us 88 or 89 years old) and a spry little man who loves to talk. He was excited we had stopped to visit and he
promptly told us the story of his work.
He used to be a cabinet maker, but since the late 1970s
he has been a spider web harvester. Yes siree
– he GROWS SPIDER WEBS!! Then he makes
then into ART! The garage we saw (and
another one behind) are where the webs form.
We were honored to be shown the entire operation and especially excited
to see the WEBS!
He has made and hung wooden frames in the garages. The spiders must like them, because they come
in and make webs. “Around once a day”
Will comes out to check his web crop. He
wore pretty thick glasses and I am guessing at his age webs are not the easiest
things to see, but he has a task to do! When
he sees a good web – pretty design, unbroken – he sets about collecting
it. To do that, he starts with a can of
white spray paint. He talked for a long
time to us on the merits of this paint vs. that one – it was really sweet. The man goes through a LOT of paint! He thoroughly coats the web so that he can
see it better and make sure it is worth harvesting. If it IS, he moves on to his “better paint”
(insert another long paint discussion here).
When he has the web just the way he likes it, he takes a piece of wood
that he has sanded and painted during the winter (his off season), and verrrry
carefully pulls it up behind the web – CAPTURING the intricate web on the wood!!
And of course, the masterpiece must be
topped off with more paint – lacquer. It
is lovely!!
I found another web and he was eager to try that
one. Paint. More paint.
Paint… Oh – this one was
good!!! Will disappeared to the back of the
garage and all the sudden we heard the sound of a big FAN. What???
Yes – this must be part of the system!
Ok Will – you are the expert! He came
back with a beautifully sanded and painted piece of wood and finished the job
of mounting the web. It was
terrific!! He declared it was not
perfect, but it sure looked nice to me.
While David and Will chatted some more (did I mention
Will likes to talk?) I popped into the store to see what web art goes for these
days… Turns out they are not cheap! But of course, I needed to bring one
home. How can you visit a Spider Web
Farm, see all the work that goes into the art, and leave empty handed? I found a section of small webs and Will
later told me he calls those “Grandma pieces” – because when Grandmas come with
grandchildren they want to buy EACH CHILD a plaque, and the small ones are
priced just right for that.
I chose my “Grandma piece” and took it to the front to
pay. There were fun signs up everywhere –
bad spider and web puns and old articles that had been written about Will and
his interesting farm. It took us about
20 minutes to pay because of confusion (not on our part…) about the price and exact
change. It was funny. He was asking about us, too, and when we told
him we were from the DC area he got a little gleam in his eye. “Oh! I
had a man in here a while back from DC!!
He bought 4 plaques, too. And I could
tell he was someone important, but then when he told me what he did and who he
was, I knew he was really important! He was
in the, the…” . Turns out the man he met
was a big wig in the Secret Service.
Will was excited to share a gift with us that the man had given him – a special
pass to get into the White House! He
pulled out a big stack of passes, and each one was separated by a little
yellowed piece of tissue paper (like a wedding invitation). These were fancy passes – tiny, business card
sized each with a lovely official seal. I could tell the pass he gave me was old, but
wasn’t sure when it was from. When we
examined it later it was clear that it was ancient – the only info that is
required of the bearer is a right index finger print, age, birth date, height,
weight, hair and eye color, address, and signature. But I didn’t know HOW ancient until I looked
up the person whose signature is on it – Baughman, Chief, United States Secret
Service. He held that position from 1948
– 1961 for Presidents Truman, Eisenhower, and Kennedy and he died in 1978. Our spider web farmer has had that stack of
passes for a very, very long time.
So, I am home now.
I have not decided on the perfect spot to hang my web art. My White House admission card is on my desk –
even if it WOULD get me into the White House for a tour, would I want to part
with it? But, like most adventures, the
thing I treasure most about our visit to Spider Web Farm is the memory of it –
the feel of the sunshine, the smell of the paint, the grandeur of the webs…
Yes – I would live on Spider Web Farm Road.
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