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    Faceplant BLOG

    Rest & Relaxation

    Rest & Relaxation

    I started Faceplant Dreams in 2008 because I was exhausted! I had worked and traveled too much and was struggling to find the emotional balance and relaxation necessary for true nourishing sleep. We’ve all heard the classic line that we “need our beauty sleep” and now science explains why!
     
    After extensive studies, Dr. Elma Baron of Case Western School of Medicine says “Insufficient sleep is a worldwide epidemic. Chronic sleep deprivation has been linked to medical problems such as obesity, diabetes, cancer and immune deficiency and inadequate sleep is correlated with reduced skin health and premature skin aging.”
     
    Relaxation the first step to healthy sleep. The more stressful your life, the more important it is to relax before bedtime. Faceplant Bamboo® is the coziest and most luxurious fabric we’ve found and is the foundation of our classic Faceplant loungewear and pajama collection. It has the smooth finish of a silk with the soft drape of cashmere. It almost feels like being naked, only better! So, when you walk in the door from your crazy day, why don’t you slip into something a little more comfortable? You’ll be glad you did!
     
    Sweet Dreams Always,

    The Little Islands Relief

    The Little Islands Relief

      While the winds were still blowing over the Bahamas, we gratefully accepted the donations offered on GoFundMe and hitched our boat, loaded with the supplies were told were needed most.


         We filled every inch of the boat including the diapers on the captain’s seat. There was no room to waste. 

      On Sept 6, we headed to Jupiter Inlet, FL where we launched and fueled the boat, hoping for smooth seas to make the crossing.

      At the docks we connected with other boat captains making the Bahamas relief trip and generous locals who continued to load our boat with supplies until it was barely above water level.  As the sun rose over a beautiful day in FL, we left Jupiter Inlet.

      We were cautious of the rumors of pirates and ne’er-do-wells taking advantage of the Bahamian’s plight and intercepting boats like ours.  We concealed what we could that looked of value, flew the Bahamian courtesy flag, and kept a good lookout.

      We travelled east to the north end of Little Abaco Island. We’d heard the bridge was washed out so aid from major efforts wasn’t able to reach Little Abaco. With little local knowledge, it was a challenge to navigate the rocky barrier reefs surrounding Little Abaco and our trip went slower than we would have hoped.

      Our first destination was Wood Cay on Little Abaco. Ted M., a well-known and respected member of the Wood Cay community was scheduled to meet us and help distribute supplies. When we arrived, Ted had left in a desperate attempt to find his daughter who was missing since the hurricane and rumored to be at Green Turtle Cay. In his stead, however, we met welcoming arms who gratefully accepted ½ of our boatload. We were the first boat to arrive to help the residents of Wood Cay. They had some water, but very little food. We were able to bring them food, baby supplies, water, generators and chain saws with gas to help them start clearing access through the streets and collapsed buildings.

      Current Problem: En route to Wood Cay, we used our gas reserve trying to aid a couple on a sailboat which had been blown aground. With our fuel cushion gone, finding gas was becoming a priority. Locals had heard the only gas available was at Spanish Cay. Spanish Cay was on our way to Green Turtle, our final destination, so we headed that way and hoped.

      Spanish Cay faired better than others. The owners were kind and gracious, but unfortunately, they had no gas. They had spoken with Green Turtle Cay and confirmed that they had gas (at least they had some that morning!) So now, with maybe enough gas to get home, we were heading another hour the opposite direction.  

      Along our way, we met other relief boats like ours. We experienced incredible openness and gratitude toward the relief workers and their fellow neighbors. The word that best demonstrates what we saw is COMMUNITY and it was a beautiful site to see it in action.

      At first sight of Green Turtle Cay, our hearts sank. The picturesque island was devastated. The marina was empty and all the boats washed ashore. More than ½ the houses were completely collapsed and few of those that stood had full roofs remaining.

      Green Turtle Cay, although physically ravaged, was receiving supply flights and indeed had (limited amounts of) gas.

      Most importantly, In the midst of fear and destruction, we witnessed an incredible outpouring of community support. Anyone who had a running golf cart, truck or bicycle was removing debris and ferrying supplies from the docks to those that needed them most.

      Two of the local churches survived the storm mostly intact. Using handheld VHF radios, locals were organizing clean-up and repair efforts so the churches could be used as supply distribution points. My partner on the trip, Pete, worked through the night with one headlamp only for lighting alongside a few brave locals to make solid repairs to the roof of the church to protect what little resources were left.

      The islanders rely on rainwater cisterns for most of their water supply, sure they were filled with rain, but most were contaminated by the salt water flooding. Fortunately, a relief organization set up a desalination plant on the dock at Green Turtle so locals had drinking water.

      Great News: The crew chief of the last helicopter supply flight of the night smuggled a few buckets of Kentucky Fried Chicken on board and was instantly voted the most popular guy on Green Turtle Cay. 

      We never found Ted M at Green Turtle Cay but learned that he had been reunited with his daughter. Since Green Turtle Cay was able to receive regular supply flights, they loaded us up with what they knew Wood Cay needed most (including water) and we returned to our friends there with another boat load. We were met with a hero’s welcome as we were now the SECOND supply boat to arrive at the settlement.

      Armed with local’s knowledge and stern warnings, we now knew how to navigate the barrier reef surrounding Wood Cay and made significantly better time on our return trip.

        Land Ho! Jupiter Inlet never looked quite so inviting.

      With just one flat tire to slow us down, we arrived back at home base, tired, but grateful for the experience.

      We had dodged another hurricane bullet in Tampa and seeing the suffering of our Bahamian Friends was too much to ignore.  There's a local legend about Indian burial mounds in Tampa that were blessed and forever protect our city from hurricanes. We don't know if that’s true, but with the outpouring of support we received on GoFundMe to help make this trip happen, it was clear that we needed to help share the blessing whether real or simply legend. 

      Thank you for being a part of our journey. Thank you for your contributions and support of our mission. You did something amazing and the people we met wanted to be sure we expressed their gratitude ten-fold. And so we thank you.

    One Light

    One Light

    When life gets tough, I have always resorted to the comfort of my dreams. Supporting my Mom as Alzheimer’s slowly consumed her made the past few years particularly challenging. Trying to be 100% available to her, left little energy, compassion or time for work, family or for myself. 
    After she passed, I quickly recovered more time in my days. We’ve enjoyed long weekends with family at the beach and on the boat. I’m doing more yoga, more meditation and enjoying morning walks along the bay. With more time, I’ve been able to refocus on Faceplant. We’ve taken business trips in which we’ve discovered some pretty cool stuff to bring to the brand next year.  This all feels good. I feel more energized. I feel more love and compassion for myself and the world.

    But in a weird way, I feel a little guilty for feeling happy, like I don’t miss her enough, and I wonder why. And the answer came in my dream last night…
     I found myself somewhere looking for my Mom. I sensed and knew she was there but couldn’t find her. A small orb buzzed, and I could hear my Mom’s voice coming through it but couldn’t understand what she was saying. I pulled it closer to my ear and asked her to try another way of telling me what she wanted to say. Her voice continued but the meaning continued to elude me. Again, I urged her to try a different way of saying it.  She stopped talking and I could hear her breathing. Her breathing was slow, rhythmic and consistent. I listened for a while and it comforted me. Just the simple sound of her breathing in, breathing out… breathing in, breathing out… at some point, as I listened, I realized that I had awoken from the dream and was in bed, and could still hear the same clear rhythm of breathing. The same breath, the same cadence, the same energy. Now, however, it was my own breath. Breathing in…breathing out...
    Her message is clear. She remains here with me. Her energy, love, compassion and breath flows through me and with me. Her light has not been diminished by her death, and if I trust this, my love and compassion are doubled not halved. One breath. One love. One Light.

    Quality Counts – Thanks, Mom!

    Quality Counts – Thanks, Mom!

    Steketee’s Department store was the ‘fancy’ store where I grew up. Steketee’s denoted quality and prestige, and I aspired to shop there. Usually, however, we shopped thrift stores and Kmart for clothing. Fortunately, my Mom had amazing taste and was able to find the gems wherever we shopped.

    With good taste and a limited budget, she chose to make most of her own clothes, and I liked her style. I got my first sewing machine when I was 6 (because my Mom tired of me knotting the bobbin thread on hers) and I was hooked! She taught me to select the right fabric for the pattern, decide what accessories were needed, determine yardage and how to cut and follow the pattern. She’d buy Simplicity Patterns while I dreamt of the day that I could make a Vogue Pattern. With patience (hers and mine), my skills advanced and I too made my own clothes without any patterns needed.

    In high school, I designed and made the perfect A-symmetrical blouse with an oversized collar like I had seen Cyndi Lauper wear. I proudly presented it to my Mom who turned the shirt inside out and pointed out my raw seams inside. “Why didn’t you finish the seams?” she asked. “Did you make this shirt for a Steketee’s Customer or a Kmart Customer?”

    My very kind and talented Mom changed her address to heaven recently and the waves of grief are still sweeping me over daily. But mixed in with the grief is loads and loads of gratitude for the many years and gifts she shared with me. My thanks go out to her every day for the lesson about detail and quality she taught me that day. Thanks Mom. I love you.

     

    The Magic of Fabric

    The Magic of Fabric

    I’ve been a fabric junkie for as long as I can remember. When I was a kid, my Mom and I spent endless hours wandering the local fabric stores touching and draping the fabrics to see how they hung. We didn’t have much money, so we frequented the sale table and bought anything fabulous, even if we weren’t sure what we were going to make with it.

    This year I’ve gone back to my roots of wandering fabric markets. In the past 3 months, I’ve rambled the halls of textile sourcing shows, mills and factories from the US to China to Paris.  I love the elegant drape and smooth finish of our Faceplant Bamboo® jammies but how much champagne can one girl drink? I mean, surely, there are OTHER fabulous fabric options out there, right? It turns out, when it comes to fabric, you have to MAKE the magic. In my travels this spring, I think I’ve found the elements, now we’re working on putting them together. Stay tuned my fellow fabric fanatics…. There’s magic coming your way in a few months.