Happy New Year!

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New Year's Eve, 1961:

Paul Newman plants a big ol' smacker on Joanne Woodward.

Sending you all big kisses and wishes for a Happy 2012!

Thank you for sharing this past year with me.

See you on the other side.

xoxoxo

Happy Christmas Weekend!

Have yourselves a Merry Little Christmas.

I will be back next week, after the gifts have been unwrapped, the cookies and pies have been eaten, and the egg has been nogged.

Until then, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

xoxo

Mirrored Mirth

I am loving these mercury glass-esque Mirrored Mirth trees from Anthropologie.

Methinks they would fit in very nicely with all of my vintage glass Christmas balls.

The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

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It's that time of year...

A very Happy December to you, my Dear Readers! I love December. The air is filled with magic and the scent of pine. People are hustling and bustling and wishing you good cheer. It is really and truly the most wonderful time of the year!

This started out as a Happy Weekend post last Friday. But time gets weird in December, and it just never saw the light of day. Instead, the diminishing daylight hours were spent hustling and bustling and brimming with cheer. There were two visits with Santa, wreaths hung in windows, and an annual holiday tradition: Sledwreckers! Presents for dear ones sit waiting to be wrapped, and the teeniest, tiniest tree is ready for strings of lights. The parade of old Christmas movies has begun its march across my TV screen (I watched It's A Wonderful Life for my very first time ever. If I'm being honest, I found it to be a bit of a downer. Think I'll stick with this.).

All that's missing is a sprinkling of snow. After a cold early fall, it's been rather warm here. There are still a few leaves hanging on trees, and the grass is full and green. It may be the first time ever that I went to pick out a tree without the cumbersome burden of a thick and heavy coat. According to the weather man, that should soon change. And I for one have no problem dashing through the snow to get my cards in the mail. It's how it should be, and I look forward to it.

Hope your Holiday Season is shaping up to be a merry one!

xo

Happy Thanksgiving Weekend

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The pies are baked and cooling. The apples and the cranberries have been cooked to perfection. A chocolatey, gingery treat has just been pulled from the oven.

My work is done.

All that's left to do is find four days worth of clothing with comfortable waistbands

and get ready to get my eat on.

And, of course, wish you all a

Very Happy Thanksgiving.

See you next week.

xo

Harvest

Our farmer's market ended for the season this past weekend.

A late autumn last hurrah, dashing from stand to stall, filling baskets and canvas bags with the supplies needed for this week's big feast. A refrigerator stocked, one last time, with a fresh, local harvest.

At least until the spring.

Which brings us to a more permanent bounty. A cornucopia of lacy knit goodness from Japanese designer Jung Jung.

Feast your eyes, Dear Readers.

{all images Jung Jung}

xo

Happy Weekend

Happy Weekend, Dear Readers!

What do you have planned? Anything fun?

It was a busy week that had me leaving the house while the sun was still new,

and returning only after the moon had once again replaced it.

A week in which a pirate ship was made and sailed across the rug, and apples were sliced and left in the oven until they were nice and sweet and crisp.

It was a good week, and the weekend is looking no different.

Hope you all enjoy yours.

xo

Gold Dust Woman

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be Stevie Nicks (actually, I still do).

Birthdays would come around, and Christmas, and always, the answer to "What do you want this year?" was a tambourine. Just like Stevie's.

A few years ago, after nearly two decades of requesting, I finally got my wish.

My mom and I had been out flea marketing together, and I spotted a wooden tambourine laying on a table, inconspicuous amongst old purses and creepy clown figurines. I looked at my mom, and I looked at the tambourine. Longingly.

On Christmas morning, I opened a jingling box, and pulled out the tambourine. My mom had tied long lengths of ribbon to the edge. Just like Stevie's.

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A few days ago, while being dazzled by shiny internet distractions, I spied this little rhythm keeper.

A ticket stub, a backstage pass, and a lyric from "Sara" in Stevie's own hand.

Can you imagine???

I wouldn't trade my be-ribboned treasure for anything in the world.

But I wouldn't mind adding another, either.

xo

Good Grief

{image by boywonder}

A high-five to you.

xo

My White Trash Family

Kim Alsbrooks makes art out of trash. Quite literally.

While living in the American South, Alsbrooks came up against the deeply rooted ideology of class systems. Frustrated, she took a cue from museum portraits, once painted on ivory, and began creating her own series of cameos, but this time on crushed beer cans, cigarette packs, and french fry containers.
 And thus was born My White Trash Family.

A portrait of the classes for the modern age. The times, they are a changin'.

xo

Happy Weekend

A very Happy Weekend to you, Dear Readers.

In the words of Nephew 1, this is the weekend we go "pour water on Nephew 2's head."

It's a weekend in which my non-church going family gets all gussied up, goes to church, and tries to behave like the, um, mature adults we all are.

It's a weekend that I become, once again, a godmother (kiss the ring.).

From what I understand, as their godmother, my job is to guide my sweet nephews along a spiritual path. Seeing as how I'm not a particularly spiritual person, I originally scoffed at this idea. But then I thought about all of the really cool beliefs and traditions in all of the world's many, many religions, and thought, I've got this.

I also thought about what it means to me, being their godmother. I wrote notes to the boys, telling them how I saw myself in this role to them, and how much it means to me. I told them about all of the things I will teach them, like how to curse in French and where to spot Alfred Hitchcock's cameos in each of his movies. I gifted them with savings bonds, and told them to use the money to see the world. I gave them books, and I gave them the world. Quite literally: a big blow up globe to roll and bounce.

In return, every day, they give me the world right back.

xo

Meow Mix

The brilliantly hillarious The Kitten Covers is all about "legendary albums from a world dominated by kittens..."

We are talking seriously cool cats here.

Meow.

xo

Sweet Notions

Cooler weather. A return to the kitchen, a return to working with yarn. Picking up projects dropped when the heat came, and hoping to remember where I left off. Mixing flour and butter and eggs, putting batters and doughs into the oven that is warming the kitchen. Beloved pastimes that have no place in the heat are warmly welcomed when cooler airs prevail.

Sugar and Meringue has managed to combine these two delights in the sweetest way (Ha! A pun.). Yarn cupcakes and granny square cookies, button cookies affixed to little cards. They look almost too perfect to eat.
 Almost.

{Sugar and Meringue's Yarn Ball Cupcakes}

{Sugar and Meringues's Granny Square Cookies}

{Sugar and Meringue's Button Cookies}

Wishing you a day that is sweet and filled with warmth, Dear Readers.
xo

Mix Tape Monday, Volume 7

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November, to me, is when it really starts to feel  like fall. The night comes earlier, and is darker, quieter. The air outside is scented with fallen leaves and wood fires, inside with soups and baked bread.

If spring is a time of new beginnings and rebirth, than fall is surely its opposite. It feels as old and comfortable as the sweaters that have just been pulled from their summer slumber. The colors, the shades of gray and gold, are warm and gentle.

These songs envelop all of these feelings for me. They feel wrapped in antiquity, comfortable, familiar, and slightly haunting. They are at once as warm as blankets pulled from cedar-lined chests, and as chilly as the air sneaking in under old window panes. They are the sounds, at least for me, of fall.

I hope you enjoy them.

xo

 

Cut and Fold

British artist Abigail Reynolds folds paper. And she does so like nobody's business.

As one who struggles just to get a standard sized sheet of paper folded and fitted into an envelope in a neat-ish manner, I can't even begin to tell you how impressive I find this.

And she does it all by using old bookplates and found images, folding and cutting and creasing, fitting them seamlessly together to sculpt an image entirely new.

{all images Abigail Reynolds}

Pretty cool, huh?

xo

Fall On Me

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Happy November, Dearies!

xo

Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered

{That's me. Wonder Woman. 1981.}

Trick or Treat, My Sweets.

As the song goes, this is Halloween.

And I need to tell you something about that-

it's not my favorite day of the year.

I mean, in theory, I think it's pretty fantastic: the black cats, the candy, the old school plastic pumpkin trick or treat buckets.

But in practice, it's just not my thing.

I really don't like wearing costumes. What's more, I'm terrified, absolutely terrified of other people wearing costumes. And not just on Halloween- team mascots, creepy mall Easter Bunnies, the dancing banana on the boardwalk- I steer clear of them all. But Halloween is filled with folks, young and old, in wigs and masks and full face make up. It escalates the fear to stratospheric levels.

And if you throw a clown in my direction, well, forget it. I really can't be held responsible for what might happen.

Fortunately, around these parts, trick or treaters are a rarity, and tend to be tiny princesses and firemen (not so scary), or high school students dressed as, well, high school students. But with pillow cases and an expectation for candy.

So I will rise above, answer their knocks at the door, and throw some candy in what I hope is their general direction. Or better yet- I'll let someone else do it ;)

Hope your week is filled with more treats than tricks.

xo

Happy Weekend

Happy Weekend, my Dear Readers!

Perhaps it's a trick, and all of the weather people are in on it, or perhaps it's a pre-winter treat,

but snow, measurable amounts of it,

are actually in the forecast for this final October weekend. Can you believe that?

Sounds like a perfect excuse to stay in and bake and watch old movies to me.

How about you? What are your weekend plans?

Hope it's spooktacular, however you spend it :)

xo

Golden Ink

I have always been drawn to things that are dainty, delicate, and not quite like anything else.

With Golden Ink, Melbourne-based artists Abby Seymour and Katherine Wheeler have created a collaborative line of one-off porcelain jewelry pieces that fit nicely into those aesthetics.

Necklaces, rings, and bangles of the most delicate porcelain are whimsically adorned with abstract shapes and lines, and cameo-esque painted ladies.

{All images Golden Ink }

I want them all.

xo

To The Sea

It has become a sort of tradition for my family. After the season has ended, and the crowds and the vendors and the noise have all returned inland for the winter, we rent a house at the shore. Last year we were, for a few days at least, nearly two dozen strong, taking over two houses and a large stretch of beach.

This year, we were just a few, with a visiting aunt and cousins staying near by. My parents rented a house right on the beach, and the rest of us followed them to the coast like the obedient children we are. From the deck, just past dunes dotted with yellow flowers and butterflies, was our very own private expanse of New Jersey shore line.

Mornings were spent breakfasting on the deck, watching the sun rise like a ball of fire over the horizon. That first morning brought an endless stream of dolphins swimming by, occasionally jumping out of the water as if to say hi. The days were spent on the beach, digging in the sand and looking for shells. If you are two and the ocean is the greatest thing in the world, incidental things like water temperature don't matter a bit. Adults sat scattered about in various states of covered up, reading and napping and gossiping. Kites were flown, castles were built.

The sun fell, and the layers were piled on. Mugs were filled, either with tea or with beer. We watched the moon and listened to the waves, wrapped in blankets and stretched on lounge chairs. Endless hands of rummy were played, none of them in much of a hurry to total a score of 500.

At night, the only sounds in that deserted beach town were the waves crashing yards away from the windows, and the midnight ramblings of my tiny roommate: "6789!" "Whatcha doin'?" And a late night jaunt that had him stuck and calling for help, on his hands and knees at the bottom of the bed, stuffed duck in hand. He never did tell me where it was he was going to, on that journey in his sleep.

We have all grown accustomed to, and now savor, that late-season week by the sea. The chilly winds having long since blown away the crowds, leaving us virtually alone in the town to make our own amusement. And a long stretch of beach, empty of people save for family.

xo

Hidden Memories

Have you seen the unbelievably gorgeous jewelry collection, Puur Andres, from Dutch designer Miranda van Dijk?

Vintage photographs are printed onto cotton fabric, which van Dijk then turns into breathtaking leaves and flowers. These leaves and flowers become the base for her beautiful and unique collection of brooches and necklaces, called Hidden Memories. You can find these lovely pieces available for sale here and in Miranda's Etsy shop.

{All images Puur Anders by Miranda van Dijk}

Hope you're have a memorable day, Dear Readers.

xo