New Beginnings (. . . as trite a it sounds)

So, it’s been a while—like nine months—but who’s counting? 

Me, I am counting. 

I am terrible with remembering dates.  l know the year I was born, the year I got married and the birth year for each of my three children—for any other date, my eyes roll back in my head as I either add or subtract from hear of those significant years.   But my shortcomings or perceived failures—they’re locked in.  Nope—never forget those.

Anyhoo, while there are many things I will never (did I just type that—adding the italicized emphasis, too???) go back a “do over” (a curly perm, my middle school years and being a shop owner come to mind), I am pretty sure I will keep trying to revive this blog.

To start with, it has served as a sort of journal for me over the years.  (Reference the first paragraph where I expose my short term memory challenges.)  I have come back to this blog time and time again to refresh my memory about rather remarkable events in my life; it has also served as a handy recipe receptacle, too.  Just the other day, I used the handy-dandy search option to find the recipe for our family favorite Pumpkin Cookies.

I also find that I am actually motivated to do things—to tackle projects, to try recipes and to, basically, explore and delve into other shenanigans as opportunities arise—just so I can share them here.  Basically, it’s a public journal.

So, here I am, blogging again.

A quick update . . . we have had made some serious changes in our lives since March—not the least of which was to sell our beautiful, historic home and move to the panhandle of Florida, but more on that later.

One thing that hasn’t changed is that I still write two weekly columns for Clarksville, Tennessee newspaper, The Leaf Chronicle.   One of those columns is a lot like a blog entry—I just write about things going on with my family, home improvement  and decorating projects. I find that, occasionally, I want to include more information and photos than the printed paper can allow or subscribers care to read/see.  So, I’ve decided to stat using my blog to (1) supplement my column and (2) share some of my experiences as I, once again, attempt make a house into our home.

And, since I just hit “send” for my most recent column submission; and, since in that column I direct readers to my blog for more details on my most recent project, I thought I better get to it.

And there you have it.  If you are new to my blog, I welcome you.  If you’re a tried and true friend or fan, welcome back!  I hope to hear from you often.  Thanks for joining me here.

Fondly,

PS—I’ll update my photo banner later—first, I have to remember how to do it!

PSS—if you’re here to read about my newly painted front door, stand by—it’ll magically appear here this evening!

Please, don’t put a bird on it.

Sometimes, old houses are for the birds.

Naturally, I am prepared to give you a “for instance” to support my thesis.

A couple weeks ago, during Middle Tennessee’s version of snowmageddon, I decided, as there was no leaving the house, I might as well get busy on at least one of the chores I had been avoiding. 

So, I gathered together the supplies I needed to finish painting the kitchen.  I believe I mentioned that I really dislike the prep-work required for most painting projects in our house.  Between taking down the numerous decorations, to cleaning and patching the walls—I just get tired thinking about it. 

The actual doing is much worse!  If I had a dime for each time I told myself “there, that was the last time I’ll need that caulk,” I’d have enough money to pay someone else to do this chore for me.

If there is one plus to this whole ordeal, however, it has to be the fact that I have now got some mean caulking skills!  I can lay a bead of caulk like a boss.

Okay, back to the birds.

So, there I was on day four of my “little” painting project, the end was in sight and I was wrapping-up the second coat on the wainscotting, when I thought I heard someone tapping on the door to our storage area.  I had my headphones on listening to my audio book (All the Kings Men by Robert Penn Warren, a resident of Clarksville, TN) so I wasn’t sure if I had actually heard it.  I kept painting—knowing full-well that I had heard something and that something was going to take me away from the project at hand.

I knew that the “something” was going to be a critter—not one that we had purposefully invited into the house—therefore, I decided to go investigate via the other access door to the storage area.  When I arrived in the playroom (yeah—my youngest is 18 . . .) and turned toward the door in question, I saw our cat, Roxy, anxiously listening at said door.  Any hope of having been “hearing things” completely dissolved.

I decided nothing else would do and I would have to open the door to see.  Roxy thought this was a great idea and volunteered for a reconnoiter mission.  While the door was briefly open—I counted two birds—and quickly shouted for some assistance from my eldest.

I proceeded to explain the situation to her, so we could develop a plan of attack, but she kind of got stuck back at the part where I mentioned that her cat was trapped with the birds.  I believe her exact words were, “Mom?!? WHAT?!?!  That’s two against one!!!”

Consequently, you can imagine my reticence at updating the report the next time I opened the door to find that we actually had three birds.  

Quickly, we began to formulate our plan—the first iteration involved a hockey mask and my youngest daughter’s boyfriend (at the time, he was sitting on our sofa downstairs and yet unaware of our little dilemma).  Then we remembered, we don’t own a hockey mask.

But we do have a fencing mask—oh, hellstotheyeah—much better.

I swear it wasn’t part of my plan, but as her cat was in there with the killer Starlings, my eldest volunteered for the mission.  (She is actually the one who originally rescued Roxy from a life on the street—or roof, as was the case; she had a habit of rescuing this kitty.)

If this had happened last year, it would have been as simple as walking in and opening the window—wave your hands around a little and watch them fly out.  However, since we had replaced all of the windows in this part of the house and made sure they all were fitted with screens, matters were complicated.

So we headed downstairs for a a quick lesson on how to remove screens (one of those details missing from the lives of children raised in old houses), then she dressed for battle. 

She grabbed an ADU shirt belonging to her ex-boyfriend (naturally not caring if it was subjected to bird excrement—hoping, in fact . . . just a little), her bother’s fencing mask and a pair of my gloves.

It was a matter of minutes before she was reporting successfully banishing two  of the little darlings, so I dared a peak in to see if Roxy had moved closer to door, which she had—so had, unfortunately, the third Starling. 

I don’t know how it happened, but my ninja-like reflexes allowed the cat to escape, but caught the dang bird as he was passing through the door.  That’s right—I had a bird caught in between the door and the jam.  I was applying just enough pressure to keep it from flying into the house—kicking myself for not closing the door to the playroom.  I felt horrible!

I called downstairs to my other daughter and her boyfriend for help.  I told them to bring a box to help catch the bird.  They both came  running, but daughter held back—wanting to be part of the action, but deathly afraid that the bird would come flying at her.

Boyfriend positioned the box in front of the gasping bird and we prepared to allow the door to open and the bird to escape (hopefully into the box) when daughter #1 announces from the other side of the door that ANOTHER bird had flown into the storage room and was by the door!  So, we wait for her to corral that bird and encourage it back outside, but by the time we got the “go ahead” our poor creature had breathed its last.

I felt awful.  Then I remembered how a flock of Starlings had swooped in on our recently refreshed bird feeders and decimated the supply which I had hoped would last until the following day. 

I got over it.

Post Christmas Dinner

I promised the readers of my weekly column in The Leaf Chronicle a copy of our menu for Christmas Dinner (which wasn’t prepared until the following Saturday).  I love having the menus of tried-and-true meals, served by real people, for my own use, so perhaps you will find some appeal in this menu.  If you have offered the same thing on your blog (or elsewhere) I hope you let me know—I’d love to check-it-out.

The menu:

Rosemary Prime Rib

Brussels Sprouts

Bourbon Carrots

Barley Casserole

Almond-Citrus Salad

Rosemary Prime Rib

6 garlic cloves, pressed

2 tsp salt

2 tsp pepper

1 tsp crushed rosemary

2 tbsp olive oil

1 (7 lb) 4-rib prime rib roast, chine bone removed

1 c sour cream

2 tbsp lemon juice

2 tbsp prepared horseradish

Combine first 5 ingredients in a small bowl; rub over roast. Let roast stand at room temp for 30 mins.

Bake at 450 degrees for 45 mins on lower rack of oven.  Reduce temp to 350 degrees and bake 45 – 50 mins or until meat thermometer inserted into roast registers 145 degrees (medium rare) or 160 degrees 9medium).  let stand 20 minutes

Combine sour cream, lemon juice, and horseradish; serve with roast.

Southern Living 2003 annual recipes

(For the record, we prepared our roasts for 45 minutes in our oven, then moved them to the grill, which we had preheated to a medium heat.)

Brussel Sprouts with Bacon

4 slices bacon, chopped into one-inch pieces

1 lb baby Brussels sprouts, thawed

1/2 c heavy cream

1 tbsp cream

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp pepper

Cook bacon in large skillet over medium heat, remove cooked bacon.

Cook sprouts in bacon drippings until they start to brown; add cream, salt and pepper.  Cover cook over medium-low heat for 15 minutes; add lemon juice.  Top with cooked bacon just before serving.

This is actually a conglomeration of a few recipes—not sure where it originated.

Bourbon Carrots

3 c water

1 1/2 lbs baby carrots

1 tbsp sugar

1/2 tsp salt

2 tbsp butter

3 tbsp brown sugar

2 tbsp bourbon

Bring water to boil, add carrots, sugar and salt.  Return to boil and cook 5 minutes or until tender.

Melt butter and brown sugar in a large skillet over medium-high heat.  Stir in  carrots and cook stirring occasionally, 2 –3 mins or until well coated.  Add bourbon and cook, stirring occasionally, 3 more mins.

Southern Living 2003 annual recipes

Barley Casserole

1c barley

1/4 c butter

2 medium onions, chopped

4 ozs. mixed specialty mushrooms, chopped

4 c chicken broth

Melt the butter in a sauce pan, add barley and cook—stirring frequently—until barley is browned.  add chopped onions and mushrooms to sauce pan; cook until tender.  Transfer to a casserole dish, stir in chicken broth.  Cover and bake at 350 degrees for 1 1/2 hours.

Charlene Saunders Thomas (my mom)

Almond-Citrus Salad

2/3 c vegetable oil

2 tsp grated grapefruit rind

1/2 c fresh grapefruit juice

1 envelope Italian salad dressing mix

1 grapefruit

2 oranges

1 avocado, peeled and sliced

3 c torn spinach

3 c torn leaf lettuce

3 c iceberg lettuce

1/2 c sliced celery

1/2 c chopped green bell pepper

1/4 c Sweet-and-Spicy Almonds

Combine oil, rind, juice and dressing mix in a jar; cover tightly, and shake vigorously.

Peel and section grapefruit and oranges, and place in a large bowl.  add avocado and next five ingredients.

Add dressing, tossing to coat.  Sprinkle with Sweet-and-Spicy Almonds.

serves 8

Sweet-and-Spicy Almonds

1 c sliced almonds

1 T butter, melted

1 1/2 t sugar

1/4 t ground cumin

1/4 t chili powder

1/8 t dried crushed red pepper

pinch salt

Combine almonds and butter, stirring well.  Combine sugar and remaining 4 ingredients; sprinkle over almonds, tossing to coat.  Spread on a lightly greased baking sheet.

Bake at 325 degrees  for15 minutes, stirring occasionally; cool.

(Make a double batch to use as an appetizer or hostess gift.)

Southern Living 1996 Annual Recipes

Summertime grilling

Not being a big fan of hot weather, there are a few things I do enjoy about the summer—not the least of which is grilling most of our meals.  In actuality, we are year ‘round grillers, but we truly step-up the game during the summer months.
Everything from chicken legs and hotdogs to beef filets and prime rib have been prepared on our grill.  I would like to expand my repertoire with regard to main dishes, but the accompanying dishes, as well. 
I’ve prepared the more obvious side dishes on the grill—corn on the cob, potatoes and vegies—but there are some many more opportunities to use the grill. 
I started thinking about this while I was preparing one of my family’s favorite appetizers last week—mango brie quesadillas (thank you, Stacy)—and committed to myself that I would start investigating the aisles at our local book store for grilling books.  (Yup—that means I’ll be buying yet another cookbook, but a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.  Don’t be a hater—it’s for my family for heaven’s sake.)

Truth is, as I typed that my mind went to Barefoot Contessa and Giada De Laurentiis cookbooks already in my collection.  They probably have a few recipes in there, but I am pretty sure Bobby Flay or another grilling expert would have it all neatly packed into one volume.  Again, this will require some exploration.
In the meantime, I wanted to share the recipe I came-up with the other night.  I had thawed some chicken breasts, but did not have a marinade planned.  Since I had the mango standing by for the quesadillas, I decided to use them in the marinade.  I actually buy mango in a jar—the kind packed in juice—because it is quick and easy to use for morning smoothies. 
Looking in the fridge and realizing we are heading out of town for a few days, I decided I needed to use the remnants of an open yogurt container.  A mango yogurt marinade started to formulate in my mind.  It’s loosely based on a recipe I got from my friend’s, Brooke’s, sister, Lynn. I usually use plain yogurt for marinades, but all we had was vanilla Greek yogurt—again, for smoothies.  Here’s how it played-out:
for six boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1 c. of yogurt
1/2 cup of mango juice (from jar)
1 T fresh lime juice
garlic (I had to use powdered because I was flat-out of fresh—if was okay, but it’ll never happen again.  I used about 1 t, but will use 2-3 minced cloves when I make it again.)
chopped cilantro, about 3 T
2 t curry powder
3 T olive oil
I allowed it to marinade for about 1 hour, but will allow more time the next time I make it.  I grilled over medium-low heat.  don’t ask me how long—as I rarely do it the same way twice.

Do you have any favorite grilling recipes? Will you share them with me, please.  I enjoy cookbook recipes, prepared by people in restaurant-worthy kitchens, but the best ones come from real people in their real kitchens.
Thanks for your indulgence.

army family

Recently, my husband and I were able to make a brief visit to see our dear friends of more than 20 years.  

We met Ruta and George at Ft Hood TX, where we briefly lived prior to our first duty assignment in Germany.  As it happened, George was the company commander for A Co., 2/1 AVN  without a doubt our best loved and remembered unit.

Ruta and I became fast friends. 

Over the years, our friendship has grown as we have both endured  the often trying, but always rewarding life of military spouses.  Our circle has grown to include many other friends, but truly, it is this couple we all have in common. 

Our weekend together was wonderfully punctuated with a surprise visit of one of these friends, Brooke, and further enlarged by another, Tim.

Nothing says “good friends” like matching hats and a frosty bottle of Jägermeister (for medicinal purposes only).

In recent years, we have not been stationed with or even near most of these friends, but I am pleased to say we have always made efforts to get-together.  Usually, it’s just a small gathering—and those unable to be part of our gatherings, can almost always count on a late-night phone call from the revelers.  (No apologies—its just how we roll.)

Now we are getting older and, among other things, with age comes a little freedom.  The kids are moving out, at college or at least old enough to be left with friends or older siblings while we are out cavorting.

I feel so fortunate for all of the  blessings in my life—I’ve been given much more than I deserve—but today, I am especially grateful for my Army family.  You know who you are and I love you!

Thanks for your indulgence,

Cousins

I wrote this last weekend . . .

On the road again!  This time, we’re on our way to Atlanta to visit my cousin, Stacy.  Originally, this was to be another gymnastics weekend, but the meet was cancelled.  As my cousin had rearranged some other plans to accommodate us for the weekend, it would have been rude to cancel on her—of course, we had no qualms about cancelling Hannah, though—she stayed home with big sister.

Aren’t cousins great?

There is a post going around on Facebook about cousins being your first friends and knowing all about your family and this couldn’t be more true!

Mom is very good friends with her cousin, Sharon.  They spent some time together after Dad funeral service and you could just see how much they had missed each other.  They don’s see each other very frequently, but they’re still very good friends.

Growing-up I was very close with my cousin, Robin.  My mom and Aunt Billie would drive us back and forth all summer, we’d spend days/weeks together.  Back then, Stacy didn’t have much time for me; she’s a little older than me.  Robin is a little younger—between me and my sister, Nikki—in age.

Stacy and Robin

Anyhoo, like most things, age changes relations.  A few years seemed insurmountable in our youth, but now I think of us as all being “about the same age.”

When we moved to Richmond Hill, Georgia, Stace and her family moved to Atlanta—we were able to see them a couple times each year and we kept in touch much more regularly.  (Heck, I would hope for hurricane warnings so I had an excuse to make an unscheduled trip to Atlanta under the guise of “evacuation.”)

Since opening my business, I’ve been able to include a visit with her on all of my trips to the market—tightening our bonds with each trip.

I am able to see my other cousins less frequently, but am always grateful that when we do get together, we barely skip a beat.

Do you share similar relations?  Share this is you have the best cousins in the world . . .

thanks for your indulgence,

“that cilantro tzatziki-like sauce”

I made this sauce last summer and since then, my husband has requested it regularly.  I cannot remember what I served the first time I prepared it, but it seems to go with everything!

We call it “that cilantro tzatziki-like sauce.”

It requires:

32 ozs of plain yogurt

1/3 – 1/2 of a bunch of cilantro, chopped

the juice of  1 - 2 limes (about 1/2 cup)

4 cloves of garlic—pressed

 

I use the leaves and stems of the cilantro.

The limes exceptionally juicy—I only used 1 1/2.

Make sure the garlic cloves are a good size—mine nearly filled the the receptacle side of the press.

Combine all with the yogurt.  I prefer to do this a day in advance, but have used it as soon as 2 hours after I prepared it.

 

Tonight I served ground beef  browned with onions.  I added salt, pepper, marjoram and rosemary, then a can of stewed tomatoes (chopped).  I served the beef mixture over brown rice, then we topped it with chopped tomatoes, feta, olives (not me—can’t stand them), cucumbers and that cilantro tzatziki-like sauce.

I hope you try it—then let me know how you serve it.

Thanks for your indulgence,

my traveling office

Our car.

We have been on the road a lot this year.  (I wrote this post on Friday, the 15th of February.)

Every other weekend in 2013 we have have been somewhere other than Clarksville, TN.

Most travel has been to the exotic locales afforded us by our daughter’s gymnastics competition schedule . . .

like Bloomington, IL

 

and Memphis, TN

 

but we have also interspersed a few pleasure trips in, as well.

Ft Walton Beach to visit our friends . . .

Manassas, VA to visit my sister and brother-in-law for their Mardi Gras celebration . . .

 

One thing I’ve discovered is how much I enjoy working on my blog posts while my husband confidently navigates our way to and from our destinations.

This laptop has a great battery and on my way to Ft. Walton beach, I was able to formulate the better part of three blogs!  I was on fire.

Today, as we travel to St. Charles, MO, I have worked on two.

Needless to say, travel time has been a huge factor in my ability to return to blog land in such a fierce manner.  

I normally don’t get away from the shop this much, but my husband’s new job has him traveling quite a bit, so I’ve made the commitment to spend time with him while he is home. 

Then there is the fact that I have off loaded a few  things that have been weighing me down at the shop; at the same time, recommitting myself to spending more time being creative.  Being creative just makes me happier and more chatty—I have more to share.

I hope you’re enjoying/relating to them as much as I am enjoying writing them!

Thanks for your indulgence,

retirement philosophy

Having just come off a “mini-vaca” at our friends “retirement home” in Florida, my husband and I have retirement property on our minds. 

When we bought our house in Clarksville, it was far too early to think about retirement.   We’ve had so many ideas about what would be the ideal retirement property for us that it is probably a good thing we haven’t made any purchases yet. 

First, I have to say, I have a difficult time thinking about leaving our home.  We’ve only been there for 10 years and—strange, but true—I still feel like a visitor more than the owners of this old house.  I mean, the house is more than 130 years old—it’s got a story and were only 1/13th of that story.  (I’ll save that blue butterfly thought process for another post.)

Back to retirement properties . . . we’ve often talked about where we would like to have a home for our golden years.  I’ve envisioned two—one where we live and one that we use for long weekends and the entire summer.  But, what I am beginning to  think about is something like what our friends have done.  They bought their dream home in the ideal location for their retirement plans, but they live there now . . . pre-retirement.  “Mr. Friend” is not retired; he still works like a fiend. They have purchased, however, the house “they will die in.” (their words, not mine.)

(The Beach Paradise)

We’ve pretty much always assumed our place would be in or near the Northern Neck region of the Virginia coast.  That is the destination for our annual summer vacations with my sisters and their families.  We love it, but it is a little isolated (for me) for full-time living.  I get a little panicked at the thought of being there alone while my husband continues to work away from home.

That being said, I’ve found this blog—it may change my mind.

Then we think about getting some property near a lake, somewhere nearby, so we could actually get away now would be ideal, but not part of our current reality.  Of course, it could be if we got one of these . . .

(source)

You could color me happy with this arrangement!  Especially if we could have several to accommodate guests . . . ooh!  I think I’m onto something.

(the RV park at Cole’s Point, VA)

My sister and brother-in-law, have already made the leap with a camper purchase.  We have a great time when we are there, but I think my husband would prefer something requiring a little less set-up upon arrival.  Back to the drawing board . . . (I just can’t give up the idea of restoring one of those campers!!!)

Then we think about the fact that we live a couple blocks from the Cumberland River.  We could just stay put and get a slip at the marina for our yet-to-be-purchased boat.  This is the most frugal option as it is less expense and work to keep-up just one property.

(source)

Okay—just did a quick proof read and added my photos.  I am sounding extremely privileged!  “Lifestyles of the Moderately comfortable and infamous.”  I can’t believe all of the options we have.  I’m just going to shut-up and thank God for our blessings and I certainly don’t want to wish/plan away what we have now.  

Then again, I’m pretty sure God understands my need to wish and plan, so after I give thanks for my abundant blessings, I may check-out EBay for vintage camper listings . . .

Thanks for your, but especially God’s, indulgence!

Time for thanks

was it just last week?  it seems like at least a month ago.
we gathered together—family and friends—to celebrate the national day of gratitude.
the menu was much the same as it always:   turkey, dressing and the rest, but this year we tried a few new recipes.  my favorite among the new dishes was the the cranberry relish.  it was a last minute recommendation from my mom—she had enjoyed it when our friend, sherry, prepared it last year.  a quick search on the epicurious website yielded the recipe we sought.  a few improvisations made it my new favorite.  I’ll share it below, but first a few shots of our dining room on the big day.







Okay, the recipe . . .
Cranberries in Bourbon

• 
  1 pound (about 4 cups) cranberries
• 2 cups sugar
• 1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/4 cup bourbon

Preheat oven to 350°F. Combine first 3 ingredients in 9x13-inch baking dish. Cover tightly with foil and bake until cranberries are tender and sugar is dissolved, stirring once, about 1 hour. Remove from oven and stir in bourbon. Refrigerate cranberry sauce until well chilled. (Can be prepared 1 week ahead.) Transfer to bowl and serve.
Read More http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Bourbon-Cranberry-Sauce-2715#ixzz2DuEYh53B
my changes:
I used two packages of cranberries (didn’t measure); 1 cup sugar and one cup of light brown sugar; the cinnamon and I added about 2 tablespoons of finely chopped, fresh ginger root to the roasting process. 
it was delicious!
the other change this year was that I prepared the turkey using a brining method.  I am sold!  we always smoke our turkey—as we did this year—and I love it prepared this way.  the additional step of brining made the turkey even more moist and tender—if that is possible.  the brining ingredients are simple, but there are a lot of them—so I made it simple by using a prepared jar of brining spice I purchased at our local culinary shop, Ingredients.
Read More http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Bourbon-Cranberry-Sauce-2715#ixzz2DuEQc0Ue
Thanks for your indulgence,

december resolutions

This time of year, things are so crazy busy, I rarely have time to just sit and think.  I am running from the house, to the shop, to errands and to my daughter’s activities.  To most people, it is “the holiday season,” but to small business owners, it’s “the fourth quarter;” make it or break it time, especially for retailers.  So, I feel like I’ve got to constantly be doing something—something for the shop, decorating around the house or chasing to the grocery store . . . something.  Although—I am not sure why I am using the limiting language of “this time of year.” 

The “lack of time” has increasingly become a singular theme of my life.  This does not make me happy.  I need to do something about that—if only I could find the time . . . 

One thing I really miss doing is visiting my favorite blogs and writing my own.  I don’t have allow myself the time to visit blogs let alone write my blog.

I miss it—the great stories I read, the ideas I glean and the inspiration I find.  I miss sharing my own thoughts, ideas and plans.  Plus, in a strange way, blogging holds me accountable.  If I say I’m going to do something—write it in my blog—I feel like I have to follow through; even though no one is paying attention, I feel like I’ve made a promise and I need to keep it.

So, right now, a month earlier than most resolutions are announced, I promise to myself, if no one else, to write down my ideas, plans, et al.  Not only that, but I will follow through with my intentions.  I’ll do it here, as I once did, on my blog—my public journal.  If you’re a reader, I’d love to hear from you, but I definitely understand if I don’t. 

I’ll be doing it for me, but perhaps you are feeling the same as I and will find, in me, a kindred spirit.  Perhaps you will be encouraged by me the same way I am encouraged by my favorite bloggers; maybe my efforts to carve-out some time for the things I enjoy will inspire you to do the same.  Whatever your reason for checking-in here, please let me know if you have any ideas for my attempts to make these changes in my life.  I am always up for new ways of doing things.  I can learn to suck eggs a new way.

Here are a few of the blogs I plan to catch-up on . . .

 

 

                                              

(the above pic is a link to the blog:  Chateau Relaxo)

Thanks for your indulgence!

fall porch

No way!  Are you kidding me?!?  It’s already the weekend before the first weekend in November???

Well, that can mean only one thing . . . it’s time to pull-out the Christmas decorations at the shop.  argh!

Please don’t hold it against me.  We’ve got to play by some of the rules set-up by the big guys.  heck, if you gauge me by most of the “big boxers” you will find me lacking.  I’m sorry.  I am doing my best.

So, today it began and I am amazed at how much we were able to get done.

Around the house we are enjoying the warm glow of the fireplaces, but falling behind on the current holiday season, let alone the future ones. 

I finally got the front porch situated, sort of.  I hung a tobacco basket instead of my fall wreath.  I found several at the flea market a few months ago.  The really cool thing is that they were all marked with  Clarksville, TN.   I was already fascinated with the barns all over Tennessee.

I moved the wicker chairs we once used in the kitchen to the porch.  I tried wrapping the legs with sisal rope (the wicker wrapping has come undone); it probably would have worked if I started the process a little differently, but for now, they could stand a little more attention.

 

A few weeks ago, I participated in a wonderful barn sale hosted by Shirley and Knox Thomas.  When I went out to see the barn—prior to the event—I noticed stacks and stacks of tobacco sticks.  (These are the sticks the tobacco is hung from while curing in the smoking barns.)  Shortly after returning to my shop, I messaged Shirley to ask if I could buy a bundle of the sticks from them.  She happily obliged and even delivered them to me!  I’ve decided to display a bunch of them (7) in the rusty milk can on the porch.

 

Note the planter above.  This was an idea Patty found on Pinterest.  We used a vintage floor lamp and a wire hanging basket with a coco liner.  The Pinterest pic had the planter filled with succulents—it was lovely.  Mine is filled with ornamental cabbages and mums.

 

I need to find a better color for the wicker chairs.  I had painted them a greyish-taupe when they were destined for the kitchen.

 

 

Those tall flowers blocking the view of the porch were a mistake, but I cannot get rid of them.  I think if I took the time to cut them back before they develop those white blooms (which blow around like dandelion seed), I think we’d have far fewer, but . . .

 

The others, the peach colored asters at the front should be named Clarksville official flower.  There are actually more of them than the tall white-flowered things (can’t remember their names) in our yard—on Dog Hill—all over Clarksville, for that matter!  They are prolific.

My yard has more color in the fall than the spring.  Is yours like that?  I’d love to hear from you.  Thanks for sticking with me—especially while I’ve been a sporadic blogger.

Thanks for your indulgence,