i have always had a bit of a southern obsession. i loved watching gone with the wind as a child… i was mesmerized by the big hoop skirts decorated with intricate ribbons and lace and layered over all the petticoats and cinched up corsets. i spoke with a terrible southern accent for the entirety of my fourth grade year, nearly driving my father out of the house. in my twenties, whenever i suffered a break up, i would return to gone with the wind and read in the middle of the night when i woke up miserable. “fiddle dee dee… i’ll think about that another day!” i’d tell myself when i couldn’t stop ruminating over whoever had broken my heart… just like scarlet. in my early thirties, i was invited to a wedding in north carolina. there were loads of southerners there, but there was one proper belle that i became fixated on. she was newly pregnant so she had a perfect little baby bump poking out beneath all of her floral empire waist sundresses. she always had a matching cashmere cardigan draped over her shoulders that never fell off, even though the top wasn’t buttoned. her husband wore pink pants and immaculately ironed button downs and loafers all weekend. i studied her and followed her around all of the wedding parties and events like a stalker. i couldn’t wait for the bride to return from her honeymoon so i could interrogate her about my belle. i learned that all of my belle’s towels were monogramed and every christmas her entire extended family had a huge photo shoot where they wore matching clothes. apparently, holiday cards are very important in proper southern families raising belles and gentlemen.
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valentine's day
valentine’s day is my favorite holiday. i love pink and red. i love lace and flowers and chocolates and hearts. and who can resist a chubby, naked baby with wings shooting love into your heart? but mostly, i love making valentines with my children and thinking about those dearest to us. this year boulder valley school district decided that students could not include sweets with their valentines in order to promote “healthy habits.” TYPICAL boulder! so we had to tape lame pencils onto the cards instead of hershey’s kisses or sweet tarts. i wouldn’t be surprised if lucy comes home with a sack full of kale and yeast ball valentines… but that’s okay because i will have loads of proper chocolate for her at home. HAPPY, HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY lovies!
Read Morebrown-haired family
my whole life, when i envisioned getting a dog, i pictured a brown-haired dog. we are a brown-haired family and more importantly, we have dark wood floors throughout our house. the flooring was an intentional choice because i can’t stand the sight of my long, brunette, fallen-out strands on white tile or light floors. also, i wear A LOT of black and navy, even in summer, and didn’t want light dog hairs on my clothes. so last july when we got permission from my dad to get a puppy (yes - at 48 i still felt i needed to ask because the vikings STILL hadn’t won the superbowl) and we’d zeroed in on a frenchie, we immediately decided we would get a “brindle” because they have very dark brown/black hair like we do.
Read Moreeddie's jackets
my father-in-law was gone too soon. by the time i met him, he had been suffering from parkinson’s for nearly thirty years. there was still a twinkle in his eye that confirmed all of the stories i had heard about him when he was younger, but i missed knowing him when he looked like ricki ricardo and was celebrated for his violin playing, spontaneous fun, witty humor and dapper dressing. i did, however, get to see the beautifully tailored cashmere coats and suits he left behind. while none of them fit his son quite right, they were too fine and too sentimental to give away. we packed them away carefully and they moved with us to three different apartments and two houses. recently, i found them when i was doing a major post-lice cleaning. i know you don’t have to go through EVERYTHING in your house when your children infect it with lice, but once i get going on the cleaning i tend to get carried away. they were in the back of my sewing closet in an unmarked box. i am no longer married to my father-in-law’s son, so clearly i needed to give the jackets back. but i decided to take the cashmere herringbone coat apart and have it made into two sofa pillows because the fabric was so soft and appealing. after getting the deconstructed jacket cleaned, i had the pieces sewn together into two squares. one square has a pocket showing and the other has the jacket buttons going down the middle. my daughter and i picked out a neutral plaid that has a 60’s era feel and we used that as the backing on these pillows. my one-time husband had forgotten about the jackets and was delighted to have them repurposed and added to his living room…a cozy reminder of his dashing father.
Read Moregingerbread houses
i can’t remember when i started making gingerbread houses… it’s probably an extension of my love of my childhood dollhouse. i do know that making them with my children is one of my favorite christmas traditions. they are messy and sticky and my kitchen gets a thorough dusting of powdered sugar every year, but the extra mopping and wiping is worth it. we eat way too much candy, lick loads of frosting off our fingers (i always tell our recipients not to eat them, just use them as decoration!) and we usually feel a bit sick afterward. some years are more structurally successful than others - more than one house has had to make due with a cardboard wall as a result of a “kitchen earthquake.” the candy roof design has evolved as well. in the early days they were a kaleidoscope of random candies and today there is careful thought put into the layout of licorice squares, lifesavers, gumdrops and mike and ikes. the recipe is the same as the modern one we did last year… just a more traditional pattern.
Read Moreif the vikings win the super bowl...
my father grew up in minneapolis. he was a HUGE vikings fan. we literally had to clear out of the house whenever they were playing so he could focus on the game without the distraction of little children. (maybe also because my mother didn’t want us exposed to the salty stream of comments my father would yell at the tv.) i became a devoted fan as well, because what i wanted most in life was a dog. my father used to tell me that “if the vikings win the super bowl, i will get you a puppy.” each year, i followed their progress and kept track of their stats. i wore their colors and got in fights on the bus defending their honor - i was the only vikings fan in my elementary school because at this point we were living in northern california. the vikings actually made it to the super bowl FOUR times, but they never won. and i never got a puppy. i don’t know what my father would have done had they actually won, because my brother is so severely allergic to dogs that we would have had to sell him had we brought a dog into the house. i don’t think my parents would have done this, regardless of my father’s promise, because they really loved my brother. to this day, the vikings have never won the super bowl and i have never had a puppy. until now…
Read Moremy mother's quilts
around the time that my younger brother started kindergarten, my mother decided she needed a creative outlet of her own, beyond meatloaf and bedtime stories. i remember coming home to find the downstairs bathtub filled with long, skinny sticks soaking in water to soften them so my mother could make baskets. there was also the collage period when the dining room table was covered in colored bits of paper from my mother’s art class. eventually, she volunteered to help make a raffle quilt to raise money for our elementary school. and that, i think, sealed the deal.
Read Moreraisin-free cranberry sauce
there are few things in this world as disgusting as raisins. they look like droppings, get stuck in your teeth (marring your smile and causing cavities) and are notorious for popping up in all kinds of baked goods (scones, muffins, cookies) that should only have chocolate chips. and unfortunately, because of their size and color, raisins sometimes appear to be chocolate, which is a terrible surprise for the unsuspecting consumer.
Read Morecommand picture hangers
many of us have frustrating memories of trying to hang a photo or a piece of art and making a big, dusty hole in the wall that isn’t even in the right place. it’s stressful trying to figure out how far below the top of the frame the wire hanger is and how to get your piece centered correctly. generally, i don’t like drilling holes in my walls because it feels like such a big commitment. and for those of us who aren’t that adept with power tools, there is a strong possibility of disaster. i’m sure this process has caused a lot of strife and swearing in homes across america.
Read Moremy grandmother's doilies
my grandmother crocheted doilies that she laid on various surfaces: armrests, table tops, dressers, vanities… there were lots of doilies! recently, my mother was cleaning out her linen closet and passed along several large needlework pieces, some cloth napkins with crocheted edging, and a couple of dolly dresses. we are not sure who created what, but these handwork selections certainly remind me of my grandmother and her doilied house. i decided to take one of the circular doilies and sew it onto a big, inexpensive canvas from michaels with some hot pink ribbon i had leftover from my daughter’s birth announcements. it only took a couple of hours (i know this because i was watching elizabeth taylor in cleopatra as i did it. wow - was she gorgeous, while marc antony was such a disappointing whiner.) the doily creates lovely shadows and is more interesting to me as a wall piece, than on a table top. i think the handmade crochet work adds warmth and coziness to my modern house. i framed the dolly dresses in simple IKEA shadow box frames and put them on the shelves in the kids’ playroom. i love having small pieces of my grandmother (or auntie or someone) scattered around my house, adding depth and history.
Read Morefamily photo wall
i created my first photo wall when i became a mother. we were living abroad and we did not have any family near. i wanted my baby son to recognize and be familiar with both his living family members and those who came before him. we called it “the family museum.” we would stand in front of the different photos and tell stories about the people represented. he couldn’t believe that a picture of his father and grandfather standing together was not actually a photo of him and his own daddy (despite the red velvet overall shorts and knee highs his father was wearing.) he found it hilarious that i was ever a baby or that his grandma could have been a little girl. we traced his green eyes back to his oma and later, my daughter’s one dimple to her paternal great grandmother. we laughed about big midwestern bonnets from the 30’s and grandpa’s pants from the 70’s. the photo wall was a treasured prompt and reference for family stories and has been recreated and updated in each of our homes.
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