Under a Blue Moon

Open house

I read a blog the other day where the writer was commenting on some aspect of her life, in an introspective way. She had numerous comments of the ‘hang in there’ ‘you are doing great’ variety. And then there was a reply from one of her readers that may have been well intentioned, or perhaps not. But the reader was offering up advice on what she perceived the writer’s issues to be. She was very blunt, she was, and had quite a lot to weigh in on.

Now keep in mind the writer of the blog wasn’t asking for advice, opinions or even commiseration. She was just writing (okay – that is me projecting but she certainly didn’t outright ASK for any of those things). What surprised me most about the reader’s response was not so much that she offered unsolicited advice but, more importantly, that she thought she had full insight to the writer’s life and situation and could weigh in on such matters.

I don’t know about you but for me writing a blog is rather like inviting you over for dinner. What you see when you walk in the door is two hours of frantic dusting and much needed toilet scrubbing. Oh sure I’d like you to think the floor is always this shiny and candles are always glowing away on the mantle. I just ask that you don’t look under the beds or too closely at the hall closet whose door is bulging rather ominously.

What you read here is a pretty, dusted off portion of my life. Oh it’s real all right but it’s not the entire picture. It’s not like I have any deep, dark secret I’m trying to hide ~ goodness no ~ my life is actually rather dull in that regard. It’s more that I want you to come back and showing you dust bunnies the size of tumbleweeds (I totally stole that line from someone, I just can’t remember who) isn’t going to accomplish that ~ metaphorically and realistically speaking.

In the same token when I go to your blogs I am honored to read the bits and pieces of your life you have chosen to share. But I would never presume that it is the sum total of you and that I now know ALL about you. And I won’t offer any advice or my opinion unless you specifically ask for it.

Now if you want to know how I get my floor so shiny I’m going to have to direct you to my lovely husband.

I did light the candles though.

Victoria

I was looking through my Mother’s books and found a copy of Victoria ~ At Home With White. Victoria as in Victoria Magazine. Sigh. Why did that magazine go defunct? Those luscious photos by Toshi Otsuki and the articles of fabulous stores in France or England where you could transform you life into something deserving of, well, just something you certainly deserved.

Seems to me there still would be an audience for that magazine. I liked it because it was more than just a decorating magazine and more like a lifestyle magazine. Dreamier than, say, Martha Stewart’s Living or even Romantic Home (both magazine I like a whole lot).

The book is out of print but copies are to be had from book resellers. It makes me want to start collecting all of the Victoria books.

My mother loved white. Her garden is all white. White roses, birch trees, white hydrangeas and geraniums. It is very elegant, just like my mother was. Just from where I am sitting I can see eight or nine books on decorating or gardening with white.

Decor-wise she always paired it with a certain shade of blue, kind of an oceany greyish blue. The effect is calming, elegant and surprisingly not cold considering the palette.

But back to the book – if you like the sample of pictures above then try to get your hands on a copy of the book. You will not be disappointed. Each page is a visual feast; photograph after gorgeous photograph.

Looking through it I was reminded of a catalog I used to get that started out selling French lace curtains. Then they branched out, still mainly selling curtains but also decorative objects from France. Does anyone remember that catalog and the name of it? I want to say it had France or French in the name but I just can’t remember. I wonder what happened to them?

Edited to add: And Claudia gets it! It was Rue de France. Doing a quick search it looks like they were bought out by the Lillian Vernon Company and then they decided to phase it out in 2004.

And the big mystery ~ why is it that when I really like something like a magazine or a company it disappears?

Bunniness

The Easter Bunny came early! Or he got his holidays mixed up because he showed up for Valentine’s Day. My sister Nicole handed a beribboned box to me yesterday and said "Happy Valentine’s Day. I know how you like to rush the seasons along."

He is very dignified looking, don’t you think? When I took him out of the package my father wondered if that was a bomb attached to him. Men.

He (the rabbit, not my dad) came from a store in Los Altos, CA called Cover Story. They always have really nice seasonal decorations.

Speaking of my sister Nicole ~ she just started up her own blog called Sister’s Choice and you must stop by and say hello. She is an amazing quilter, decorator, hostess and cook and lovely as well. Thank you for the bunny Nicki.

Midnight blooms

What do you do when you wake up at 2:30am wide awake and with no hope of falling back asleep? Why you get up and make fabric flowers.

As is the case with most things crafty and creative I am a bit of a late bloomer <har!> as most of the blogging world has discovered Blair’s fabric flower tutorial ages ago. I came to it via Turkey feather’s blog a couple of weeks ago and knew that I would eventually try my hand at it.

I would have preferred to create the center with a yellow button but in the middle of the night you work with what you have. And what I had was no guilt at all about cutting the button off of a perfectly good polo shirt that my son left here a few months ago (the polo shirt is yellow and in the dark closet I thought the buttons were yellow too ~ my bad).

I have no idea what to do with the flower now that I’ve created it but it was fun. Sometimes you just have to do the thing for the doing and not for the outcome.

Entryway – Part deux

Isn’t this bird the cutest thing? She looks a little cranky but if you laid an egg that was as big as you are you would be cranky too. Ideally she would be on a cake plate with a cloche but I don’t have one (yet. But this is a contender) so for now she’ll keep vigil on the table. See the lace runner? That is my martini pitcher.

So this is my second attempt at the entry way. I’ve come to the realization that I just can’t take a picture of the whole of it and have it look right so I’m going to reveal it in bits and pieces. It’s still not perfect but I’m liking it better than my first attempt. Still struggling with that whole symmetry business.

I decided on a bird theme. I bought the birdcage at the De Anza Flea Market years ago and I painted it black.

In it I have a little woodpecker but I left the door open for him because caged birds just make me sad.

The woodpecker came from a clearance table at Anthropologie. I went in there to visit my other birds – three or four ceramic birds on an iron branch made into a candelabra of sorts. It stood about 12"-15" tall and I just coveted that thing. Only it was way out of my price range so I would just go visit it every couple of weeks. Eventually it would either go on sale or my resolve would weaken and I would buy it. There was only one in the store and they don’t show it in their catalog. Well it’s gone now so that’s that.

I have this tendency to go on buying sprees where all the accessories I purchase are black (or are painted black – I’m not afraid to buy something for the shape and then paint it whatever color I want) or white. It kind of works because either I’ll be in a Victorian kind of mood (and black works great for this) or a cottage mood where the white is better suited.

I’m in my Victorian era at the moment. But that is sure to change as soon as it’s reasonable to put out Easter decorations.

Slow moving train

Do you do this? You are presented with a gift and you just cannot recognize it as such?

I would be pointing out the obvious by saying we live in an increasingly fast paced world. We all have an incredible amount on our proverbial plates.

I am sitting on a train that is just crawling along. I feel like I could get to my destination faster if I just got off the train and walked.

And oh does my destination await, with chores, errands, deadlines and people needing me there. I’m willing the train to move faster and the conductor announces the reason for the delay and slowness is because the signals in this sleepy stretch of countryside aren’t working properly. They need to go slow in order to let the track clear in front of us. She then invites everyone to turn around and look towards the hills behind us. There is a glorious rainbow stretching clear across the sky.

Sometimes you just need to slow down and let people get out of your way. And while you are at it you can take the opportunity to relax, read a magazine or two and finish the Sunday crossword. The gift of free time just doesn’t come along all that often.

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