I Love My Mama

Kathleen's eldest daughter here, I'm guest blogging for my mom tonight because she's too tired and grumpy to post after my dad's computer lost her photos for two hours. (Yes, I'm sure it was the computer's fault.)

She gave me this adorable apron today -- isn't it sweet? And true, of course. I would have happily posted about how much I Love My Mama on my blog, but she wanted to post about the apron on her own. And then she wanted me to write it. So, I have to give her a hard time. ;)

I love you, Mom!! Thanks for the fabulous apron!

A Sidewalk's Sunday

The following story is told from the point of view of a sidewalk. It was written by my middle daughter when she was a freshmen in high school. She was very perceptive at the very young age of fourteen, as you will see.

My joy is my pain. Those who step on me teach me of the world outside. They provide me with laughter and a peek hole into the soul of man. And in return, I give them direction and protection from the dangers of the street. The telephone probably hears more conversation, but he doesn't grasp the beauty of movement as I do. Children dance in my arms and skip over my wrinkles. I am the first to see the canvases of tomorrow. I can't tell you how many times one has dropped his ice cream cone and I've felt a small tear drop. As the cat rests on my sun bleached back, I feel the children's feet grow bigger and bigger.

The seasons change and the leaves rain down on me, tickling me and covering me like feathers. You know what I love? When the night comes and the moon calls to me through the rain. Full of passion, she shines on my wet face, pulling me into the sky. I am a reflection of the stars. The sky has always fascinated me, especially the clouds. Swept in the wind, they are always changing, always painting a different story. There is an infinite number of stories; yet, each one is special. Some are dark and mysterious, others are light and pleasant. You just have to take the time to watch.

Though, not everyone is a sappy romantic like me. Hope is the first thing I hold on to, but for others, hope is the first thing they want to rid themselves of. There's this older man who walks his little dog every night at dusk. He wears the same old house shoes every night.

"Come on Scottie. Hurry up! I want to get back inside as soon as I can. All this fresh air is suffocating. It's not even fresh air anyway. It's polluted and disgusting. Would you look at that? Who's kid's parents let them do this? Drawing all over the sidewalk like it was the canvas of the world! Scottie, never have kids! They wine and cry all the time and are by all standards messier than tolerable. Then, after you put up with them for a few years, they milk you of all you're worth trying to go to college. It's an unwise investment from the very start. All these green trees are getting to me. I wish it were winter already and everything were dead."

And then, of course, there are the hopeless romantics. There is a girl of about the age of 12 who used to sit next to me barefoot in the shade of a nearby tree reading the books of Anne of Green Gables, dreaming of that fairy tale world on Prince Edward Island.

"Some day I'll find my kindred spirit!" She would say. Now she's older and she's always taking walks to the park...always with a different guy.

"Isn't the sky beautiful today?"

Uhhh. Yuh. Sure."

"I mean, it's so blue and free."

"I guess I just don't think about the sky much...Well, I guess I don't like to think about much of anything, really"

"Oh, I see"

That was the end of him.

"Isn't the sky beautiful today?"

"It's whatever you want it to be, baby."

"Oh brother."

They were all losers and I'm glad she didn't like 'em. She'd find her kindred spirit someday.

"Hi. Isn't the sky just beautiful today?"

"Yes, I was just noticing that. It's so blue and the clouds seem to be telling a story. It reminds me of our summer house on Prince Edward Island."

It was love at first sight. That was it. Nothing more to be said.

I can't forget my lawyer friend. He wears brown wingtips and it seems he's always having a bad day. He was on his usual route to a local coffee house for lunch with his partner at the firm (he wore Florsheim dress shoes) He dropped his brief case. Everything fell onto my lap and I wish I could've helped him pick it all up.

"Danget!!! Just what I needed! I'm already running late. You know those days when everything that can go wrong will go wrong. I got into a fight with Jill this morning, Angela wants to start dating, my BMW won't be out of the shop until Friday, so I had to call a cab this morning, making me late for work, but there just in time to receive message that my secretary is home sick. On top of that, we lost the Cashen suit and Robinson called informing me he's forsaking any further affiliation with the firm. Could anything else possibly go wrong?"

"It always seems to, Jack."

"Well Paul, thank you for your optimism."

Poor Jack. I always wish there were something I could do. That's the only thing about my life. I'm so confined. I can watch everything, but I can't act. And it's not just that. There are so many people I see who can act and don't. After so many years, it seems that the leaves change more than some people do. Day after day this guy Sam passes over me with the same "I'm fine attitude. Maybe he is fine but, he doesn't experience other people. Maybe it's good to be alone, I don't know. I've been alone so long that I can't imagine how it could be totally fulfilling. Yet, sometimes I feel like I experience people more than he does and I'm a sidewalk! Even when he's around people, he doesn't really interact with them or put himself in any situation where, God forbid, he might feel something. I just want to see him experience life a little. So what, maybe he'll get hurt. It's the drama of life...right? Why am I so concerned anyway?

There's this little boy...maybe seven, he runs across me sometimes to the edge of my feet where there's a wood and a small clearing. I guess he likes it because it's away from all the houses and clutter and even the other children, I'm not really sure. But his running isn't always the same. Sometimes he seems to be leaping towards freedom and sometimes fleeing some invisible captor toward the refuge of the wood. Many times, at the end of his freedom flight he will dance like a little spright who has just kissed the sky. Others...he fumbles into the grass, collapsing onto the mossen boulder, silent pain on his face. He takes out a small flute and begins to play softly, then more passionately, until it's almost angry, then soft again...His wet face is wet with tears...I want to reach out and wipe them away. Why isn't there someone here to envelope him with love. I don't want to see him end up another Sam...At least I can give him a path to temporary refuge. Hope...hope, all I can do is hope.

Hooray Training is Over!

This giant cupcake was made by one of my co-workers to celebrate the last day of three weeks of training. Our trainer, Kelly, seen above, salivating over this beautiful pink cupcake headed back to Vegas this morning. We're going to miss you Kelly!

May you find a soft place to land!

I woke up this mornng to find Miss Zoe snuggled up with Mr. Bear. We should all find a warm and safe place to land...don't ya think?

February is just around the corner!

I can't believe how long it took me to put all the Christmas decorations away this year. The mantle is finally clear of stockings and garlands and all things Christmassy. (Did I spell that right?)... I don't think Christmassy is a real word.

I am really looking forward to February. I will finally be finished with my customer service training and Mr Honey and I will fly to the Florida Keys on Valentine's Day.

I have a little story about the chair you see below to share with you.

I was so inspired by Tracey's latest post on Notes from a Cottage Industry. She refurbished a vintage chair that looks just like the one you see above, except mine is a child's sized chair given to my eldest daughter when she was only one years old. One of my mother's clients who collected antiques gave it to my mother who was becoming a grandmother for the first time.

My mother told me that her client had an entire set of adult dining chairs to match this little child's chair. She must have thought an awful lot of my mother, for her to part with such a sweet piece. Her client has a entire set adult dining chairs to match. They also had needle-pointed seats.

If you've never been to visit Tracey before, you simply must. Her blog is filled with inspiration!

It's a feast for the eyes. Just click here and you will be taken right to her blog.

I Love New Bedding

This is my first monogrammed bedding ever and I love it! I guess after thirty-six years of marriage, it's safe to say, we can risk monogrammed sheets.


This duvet, pillow shams and boudoir pillow are all from Pottery Barn's pearl embroidered collection.

I spend a lot of time in my bed, l.o.l. It's absolutely imperative that it be fresh and inviting.

Tomorrow starts my second week of customer service training. It goes without saying that I'm going to need a great night's sleep tonight. Hope all of you out there in blogland have sweet dreams tonight too!

My Love of Antiques

When I was growing up my mother would come home with what my sister and I considered junk. We couldn't figure out what our mother would do next. The chair above is a piece of furniture that my sister and I considered junk.

Of course, Mom didn't bring this chair home looking like it looks now. When she brought it home, there were three more to match, and they had no seats in them, and there was no finish on them.

We didn't have the vision Mom had, but she knew what she was doing. She knew value when she saw it. She only paid $10 a chair for each one. We had no idea she was going to have them all refinished, and that she would add beautiful black leather seats to finish them off.

I'm sure I rolled my eyes once or twice, but when all was said and done, she taught both my sister and I a valuable lesson.

If My Brain Were a Painting

This has been quite a week. My brain has been on overload. I'm going through training at work for my new customer service position. To say the least, my brain has been worked to the bone...if that's possible.

A few years ago, my middle child gave me the painting, seen above, that she created. I love it... not only because it was created by my daughter, but because it evokes feelings in me that I have a difficult time expressing.

Recently, I have been on a mission to challenge myself to do things I wouldn't ordinarily do. I don't know why...maybe, it's because I'm getting older and time is running out...maybe, it's because this last year has been a challenge and I feel like if I don't continue to learn and grow...I will be left behind.

Anyway, this painting has been especially comforting to me, because somehow, it expresses how I feel on the inside, full of fear and determination, at the same time. Somehow, like the painting, there is beauty in chaos.

One way or another, I cannot hide what goes on inside of me. When I'm afraid I tend to cry a lot. That just seems to be the way it is with me. If I try to suppress the tears, I break out in hives. My body just won't lie.

By boss asked me, "what's the worse thing that can happen?" My husband asks me the same thing. It's a great question when you're trying to overcome your fears, unless you're me. That question takes me down a very dark road, because with an imagination like mine, it could lead to anywhere.

Am I making any sense?

One thing I'm not is a quitter...and believe me, I've come very close to quitting this week. I've always done things the easy way, and I'm thinking, maybe that's not such a good idea anymore.

Maybe it's time for me to grow up and overcome a few road blocks, move a few mountains, see what exactly it is I'm made of.

Some of my mother's final words were "life is about love and art... love and art". I wouldn't want her to look down and tell me I'm "a piece of work", but I would like her to think of my life as art in progress.

Photos of Family Deck the Hallway

I know I don't take the most fabulous photos, but I love displaying them anyway. My hallway is a constant reminder to me of the good times and the really important people in my life. I have taken all black frames to showcase my favorite photos.The black frames are a nice backdrop for the buttery yellow walls and having them all black adds continuity to my collection.

The four photos in the frame directly above, in the left hand corner of the photo I posted, were given to me as a gift from my mother. My husband and I had taken silly photos when we were in our twenties at one of those crazy photo booths, then again in our fifties. My mother had them blown up and framed to remind us of where our love story began. My mother was famous for her thoughtful gifts.

How do you display your favorite photos?

Looking Back Over 2009

In January '09 I had barely begun to blog, but it quickly became a passion. I also joined Facebook and starting playing scrabble online. This was revolutionary in my life because I now had a bigger connection to the world around me.

In February I threw a Chinese New Year party for a few close friends and participated in many a Table scape Thursdays at Between Naps on the Porch, hosted by Susan.

In March, Mr. Honey and I celebrated our 36Th wedding anniversary at home with an Irish stew prepared by my lovely daughter.

Along with celebrating my anniversary in March I also celebrated the birthday of a long time childhood friend.
My daughter and her boyfriend were born on the same day, different year, so there was a trip to San Francisco to celebrate with them.

Yes, in March there were many things to celebrate and some trying moments as well. In March Mr. Honey lost his job of the last fifteen years and we wondered what the future held.
In April we celebrated my eldest daughter's birthday and my 100Th post on the same day. I had my first giveaway and my daughter helped me to pick a winner. Judy Bug at A Southern Belle Dishes on Decor took the prize. The dishes below were just part of her prize. I also started working for Pottery Barn in April.

In May there was Mother's Day...a sad day for me. I was missing my mother. She passed away two years ago in May and her birthday was also right around Mother's Day.

On a happier note, in May I had some new friends at Pottery Barn and we took a field trip to our nearest PB, just one hour and fifteen minutes away from home.

By June it was time to celebrate my daughter Brook's birthday, there was a trip to San Clemente on the California coast and hours of ping pong in the backyard.

What would July be without a parade? The neighborhood our children grew up in was famous for their 4th of July parade. This year the torch was passed to a new family to host the festivities... so this was a sad farewell to our annual July 4Th of July parade tradition.
In July we also had a trip to the beach with our grandsons and managed a visit to a fairy garden.

Camping and being at the beach is our favorite summertime activity. We eat s'mores until we are practically sick and sit by the campfire and enjoy each other's company.

In August I celebrated both my birthday and my 40Th high school reunion. My dear friend from high school flew in from London and we went to our reunion together.

In September there was yet another celebration...Mr. Honey's mother turned 80 and we had a huge family reunion at our home honoring my mother in-law.

In October I got silly for Halloween, ate too much candy and passed out candy to anyone and everyone!



In November we gave thanks...our youngest daughter surprised us and came home for Thanksgiving. We ate like kings and queens thanks to my eldest daughter's love for cooking. That gene must have skipped a generation, cuz I sure didn't get it. L.O.L.

December came and went like a whistling wind! We had family from out of town surprise us for the holidays, we were all healthy and thankful and together! It doesn't get much better than that!