Tag: home

Happy Fall Y’all

Leave a comment

Fall2017-7019

I love Fall.  It’s my favorite season.  And with a newer house, it’s fun to decorate for the seasons using decorations you’ve had for years, and adding a few new each year.

I usually start decorating for fall in mid to late September.  I add a few Halloween decorations throughout October and then more Thanksgiving related in November.  But the “Fall” decor can stay basically until December.  And since it’s my fave, it makes me very happy.

I love changing the front entry and living room decorations for the seasons even though we don’t use that area that much.  The console table by the front door has some fall leaves, a straw acorn, a glittery pumpkin, and some candles scattered across it.  On my white couch in the living room, I always change out the pillows for the seasons.

Scattered around the Family Room and dining area are some random pieces to add some color to our most lived in spaces.  I don’t do a lot, other than the mantel area (pic at top) because we do truly live in this space.  There are always drink glasses, computers, magazines, remotes, shoes, and toys around.  Lots of toys.  As you can see on the pic with the red circles, my grandson decorates too.  Those are Hot Wheels cars he has strategically placed in the stones of the fireplace.  Not sure why, but it’s his own design.

Outside decor is fun but I don’t really do a lot of over the top stuff.  I have some ghosts and skeletons, some orange lights (can’t see them in the photo) and other little random things.  I love my hay bales, pumpkins, and my FALL sign.  I added the Fall sign this year and also found a similar one for Christmas that says JOY.

So, that’s most of my Fall decor for October.  Can’t wait to get started on the Thanksgiving and Christmas decorating.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story?

1 Comment

2017-03-31 12.47.55For those not addicted to the Broadway musical Hamilton, the title is the name of the final song.  I’m kind of obsessed with Alexander Hamilton right now.  But that is not what this is all about.  The lyric just happened to fit my thoughts for today.

As many things do, this started with a dinner discussion with my daughter and her fiancé who were sharing the story of getting their marriage license this week.  Questions were asked of them to which they had no answers – for one, his father’s birthplace.  By way of a brief explanation, his father was not in his life for most of his life and there has never been a need to have knowledge of personal things.

Discussion turned to my late husband’s birthplace.  She said he was born in Ducktown, Georgia.  He was not. I explained he was born in Copperhill, Tennessee.  I asked her what she put down for me.  She replied, “Clarksville, Tennessee of course”.  I smiled and said, “Murray, Kentucky”.  We all laughed but it really made me think.  Watch out when I start thinking.

Genealogy is my passion.  Historical Records, such as marriage licenses, court records, birth certificates, death records, etc. are validation for researchers that one has the correct information.

It is also a passion of mine to tell stories about our family history.  I want my children and my grandchildren to know something about the people that came before them, both significant and insignificant.  We have family members that influenced American history, who impacted the lives of entire communities, and those that quietly struggled through their daily lives one day at a time and influenced only those directly related to them.  All of them are interesting and important and beloved.  And as long as I tell their stories, they stay alive in some way.

But who is telling my story?  And their Dad’s story?  And their grandparent’s?

So much of what we know about our family history, or any historical figure studied by writers or researchers, comes from stories and letters that were WRITTEN DOWN and saved by someone.  We don’t do that anymore.  We don’t write letters.  Few people keep written journals.  Everything is online or done through emails or text.

We do have Instagram and other social media that will give us what our ancestors did not have – lots of photos.  But what about the stuff going on in their brains and in their hearts?  I want to know about that stuff.  I know a great deal about relatives I never met because I have letters that were shared between them.  I learned of their hopes and dreams and fears.  I learned about their personalities and how they felt about their families and about themselves.  I feel like I knew them.  They are people I care about, even though they were born over 150 years ago and died over 90 years ago.  These things are really important to me.  But maybe not to my kids.  Or maybe just not as important as they are to me.

So what’s the answer?  I’m not sure yet.  My only solution right now?  To write my own story.  I need to figure out how to put aside some time to do that.  Maybe I will periodically do that here.  What have I left out in sharing stories of my childhood?  I feel like it’s well known but maybe not – do my kids even know WHY I was born in Murray, Kentucky?

It’s because my parents met in college at Murray State, got pregnant, got married, and had me there.  My brother was also born in Murray soon after I was.  Our parents struggled as young married college students with two kids but my mother was determined that they would graduate from college and would not drop out.  My dad joined ROTC because the small stipend he got monthly (I think they said $45 per month) would pay for married student’s housing.  My mother asked her father to go to the bank with her to get a loan, even after he told her she needed to give up on college and go be a wife and a mother.  Mom’s parents kept us during the week on their farm in Hopkinsville and we saw Mom and Dad on weekends.  They both graduated against all odds and my dad was obligated to join the Army.  Our family traveled the world and my dad retired as a General at the end of his long career in the Army.  Not what anyone planned but really, does life ever go the way we plan?

Why do I know those details?  My mom shared stories with me.  She wrote letters.  And when my grandfather passed away, she wrote down more details in a speech to be read by my father at my grandfather’s funeral.  She gave me a copy.  She was sharing stories of the type of man my grandfather was but she also shared a little about what kind of woman she became because of his influence.

I love those stories.  It says so much about the determination my mother had in anything she wanted to do.  And it shows the positive influence she had on Dad.  Mom had a quiet, respectful way about her until you told her she couldn’t do something.  But when she made up her mind, get out of her way.  She was the first person in her family to go to college.  And she eventually obtained her Masters Degree.

My story is intertwined with many others.  We all have both individual and a shared history.  We will see where this goes.  Maybe it is me who will Tell My Story.

 

Thanks, I didn’t know I needed that.

2 Comments

imageI love to cook.  I love cookbooks.  I love old cookbooks.  I love to sit and read cookbooks.  I love history and tradition but also crave new things.  I love to experiment.  Sometimes I succeed and sometimes I fail.  Sometimes I fail BIG TIME.  My daughter just loves to tell about the time, years ago, that I put salt in my blackberry cobbler instead of sugar.  It wasn’t that I didn’t know better.  I really do know better.  I was not experimenting.  I don’t remember how I did it because it’s so unbelievable to me that I did it.  But I did.  And it was truly awful.  It went right down the disposal and my kids wrote it right into our family history, to be used to embarrass mom for all time.

While I am a pretty good cook, I am not that great of a baker.  Baking is a science.  You have to do things exactly as they are supposed to be done or things don’t work.  Or it might not work because of the temperature outside or the humidity.  With cooking, if you don’t image-1-1have kidney beans, you can substitute black beans.  If you think it would be good with sour cream added, go ahead!  There is still science involved in cooking but there is a little more freedom to experiment as long as you know some good solid basics.

My family is full of good cooks.  And there are others who pretty much hate to cook.  Those people also hate to eat so there is probably a connection, right?  Both my kids are pretty good cooks too.  My son and his fiancé cooked Thanksgiving at their house this past year for the first time and it was sooooo good!  I love the way each generation keeps some of their family’s traditional dishes and adds some new, interesting options.  Or they blend traditions from their original families into a new tradition of their own.  What my kids consider our traditional Thanksgiving dinner actually looks very different what I grew up with.  Over the years, my husband and I took bits and pieces from my family, from his family, and from my sister and his sister in law to create our own traditional meal.

image-3My mother in law gave me a stand mixer some years ago.  She had it for many years.  It was not high end at all but it did the job.  I had always coveted the iconic Kitchen Aid Stand Mixers.  They were beautiful, sleek, and powerful.  But I couldn’t rationalize spending that kind of money on something I would use only occasionally.  The hand me down worked just fine.  Until a few months ago when it literally fell apart in my hands.  I pulled it out to use it and I set it on the counter.  I went to lift the main part to put in the beaters and it came off the bottom, fell into 3 pieces and screws/bolts rolled to the floor.  I tried to put it back together but eventually carried it to my outside trash can and dropped it in without ceremony.  I pulled out my little $10 hand mixer and finished whatever I was preparing.

Over the next several months, I used my hand mixer a good bit.  There were times when it was completely adequate and others when it was a bit frustrating.  I actually used it more than I thought.  I looked at stand mixers on line.  I considered buying a low end stand mixer but I have come to believe that, at this point in my life, if I can afford it, why shouldn’t I buy what I really want.  I couldn’t afford it right away but I decided I was going to save up for a Kitchen Aid mixer.

I randomly had that conversation with my son and his fiancé.  And at Christmas theyimage-1 gave me a card and a touching and tearful conversation about why they wanted to give me something I really wanted – a Kitchen Aid mixer.   So they did.  It now sits on my counter.  It’s beautiful.  And sleek.  And powerful.  I didn’t know I would love it.  But I do.

Life really is not about stuff and stuff doesn’t make you happy.  I know this.  But I really am happy with my life.  I am not a person who must have the best, the newest, the name brand.  I don’t buy a lot of things for myself that cost a lot of money.  I splurge every 3-4 years on a really good camera or lens because photography is one of my passions.  I splurged on my home because it was my dream and I worked hard to get it.  When something makes my life better or enhances my ability to enjoy my family and my life, I will get it.  My cameras and lenses allow me to pursue my hobby of capturing the lives of my family for current and future generations.  My home allows me to have all of my family and friends here with me, all in one place which has been a dream of mine for some time.  And this mixer, it’s just a small part of doing something I love – cooking – and enjoying the process.

Thanks Zack and Chris.

 

 

When I grow up I want to be just like . . .

3 Comments

. . . Me!  These are some of the women I admire – Stevie Nicks, Carrie Fisher, Edna Lewis, and Iris Apfel.  Some I have admired a long time and some are new to me.   Some have had struggles in life and overcome them, growing into themselves as they aged.  Others always knew who they were, learning more and growing as they aged and lived their lives authentically.  I would not say they didn’t care what others thought about them.  But I would say they knew who they were and succeeded in spite of others who tried to change them.

I have been thinking about them a lot lately.  I think we all hit a point in our 40’s or 50’s that we reflect on who we are.  Did I become the person I thought I would be?  Do I like who I have become?  What is next for me?  Because if you feel you need to change some things in your life, now might be the time to decide what your next move might be since you are coming to the end of your second 1/3 portion of your life.  You know, the first 30 years, the second 30 years, etc.  We have time to live our authentic life but  I think it takes a little experimentation to see where your comfort level really truly lies.

m_stevie-nicks-70sTake for example, Stevie Nicks – a member of the band Fleetwood Mac, songwriter, singer, fashion icon, bohemian goddess, free spirit.

I first saw Fleetwood Mac in concert in 1977 in the Washington DC area.  Stevie fascinated me.  Forget that her name was Stevie, so cool.  As she floated around the stage in her black top hat and flowing sleeves and layers of lace and skirts, twirling, lost in the music, I wanted to be her.  Stevie Nicks is my spirit animal.  To this day, inside, I am Stevie Nicks in 1977.

But, truth is, I’m nothing like her.  I would say my true fashion style is more bohemian than anything, and there are touches of that, but I have always worked in a professional environment and I am a plus size woman.  So I have spent a lot of time buying more traditional clothing and whatever was available in plus sizes within my budget.  And while I’m not afraid to experiment, I’m lazy.  Yoga pants or jeans are fine with me and now that I work from home, I own a lot of t-shirts and sweaters because, why not?  I think if you ask anyone that knows me what my style would be, they would not be able to tell you.

So where is my comfort level with this?  I don’t know.  I need to figure that out as a part of this ongoing reflection.  So do I stop being practical and buy only clothing I love?  Cause I would love to rock a black top hat every day but I’m not going to do it.  I actually almost ordered one on Amazon a few months ago and then thought better of it.  So am I authentically practical and lazy or should I try to live authentically the way I am in my head, like Stevie?   I’ll get back to you on that.

m_iris-apfelSpeaking of fashion, Iris Apfel is fascinating.  Google her.  Or watch the documentary about her on Netflix.  Iris is in her 90’s and still going strong.  She is a former interior designer and a fashion and accessories icon in NYC.    I love that she wears things she collects.  And she collects beautiful things.  Now, they are never things I would buy but in her hands, they are beautiful.  She is fearless.

Her apartment looks the same way she dresses.  It is a collection of things she loves, picked up on her travels throughout the world and on local shopping trips.  She has a life-size wooden ostrich that holds liquor in an area under one of the wings.  On top of the ostrich sits Kermit the Frog.  Just fun.  And so many memories for her.

I want to be fearless like Iris.  In my own way.  To travel.  To collect things I love.  To live life surrounded by art and inspiration until the very end of my life.

m_carrie-fisher-los-angeles-home-1Carrie Fisher was always someone who intrigued me.  The daughter of Hollywood royalty, she had a troubled early life.  She dealt with drugs and mental health issues but managed to find a way to inspire others through her strong female characters, the way she wrote about her life, and her “I don’t give a shit” attitude.  Carrie did what she wanted, she said what she wanted, and her honesty was provocative yet humbling.

I recently saw the documentary on Carrie and Debbie Reynolds called “Bright Lights” and it made me love her even more.  I delighted in the relationship between Carrie and Debbie that had developed over the years in spite of their differences.  Carrie’s style in her home – collections of things she loved, things that were given to her, things that made her laugh – just clicked with me.  Nothing really went together but it all did.  She was who she was.  And didn’t try to be anyone else.  And she was great!

m_edna-lewisMy newest fascination is Edna Lewis.  You may never have heard of Edna Lewis unless you are a Foodie, and even then, maybe not.  But you owe it to yourself to learn about this talented woman.

Edna was born in Virginia, moved as a young woman to NYC where she worked as a seamstress, a cook, and eventually became a chef, known for her Southern cooking.  I think Edna’s cookbook, A Taste of Country Cooking, pretty much defines her with the focus on seasonal menus, simple preparation and flavors, and the “feeling” of those who cook in the South with stories from the time she was growing up.  I come from a long line of Southern cooks and I know those feelings – the tradition of the family and friends gathering around your table, the smell of honeysuckle and apple trees, brushing the earth off  your vegetables that just came out of the garden, picking plump blackberries off the bushes on the side of the road.  It’s been a really long time since I have done some of those things but I remember.  It was a simpler time.   Simple, fresh food tasted good and her cookbook reminded me of that.

And she did it at a time when chefs were white men, mostly focused on French cooking.  She wore her colorful, African inspired garments and she cooked simple, fresh, the way she had learned growing up.  She did it her way.

These women are very different but they all have one thing in common.  They did things their way.  They lived authentically.  That’s inspirational.  I think a lot of people, very often women, spend a lot of years trying to be someone that others think they should be.  That’s normal but you eventually break free.  At some point, whether it’s at age 45 when your kids are grown, or 50 when you have a grandchild, or turning 56 when you realize you are on the downhill side of that second 1/3 portion of your life, you learn to not care so much and you become YOU.  How liberating is that?

 

 

A Bit of Progress

2 Comments

Since I shared my starting points for my home back in January, I have made a little progress.  I thought I would share an update with photos and also share some of the upstairs bedrooms.  Very little is complete but there has been a little bit done to every room that moved it toward the goal.  Some boxes have been put away and some still remain.  I still don’t have a dining room table and don’t expect to for quite some time.  I know what I want but can’t find the right one at the right price.  Isn’t that always the way it is?  AND I just bought a patio set to be able to enjoy this beautiful spring weather so the dining table will have to wait again.

The family room is mostly complete but I change little every now and then.  I love decorating with old books and I have them in several places all over the house.

I finally got a foyer table from World Market and this is the entry way at the front door.  I created sort of a collage wall above it and added some photos, old books and items, and favorite family pieces.  The angel on the right is one from my mom and I have always loved it.  She sits on old family bibles, two from my 3 times great grandmother.  I treasure old family heirlooms and these are very special to me.

The living room is a little more organized and, although I loved all of this in my old house, this is not what my vision looked like here.  I think I am going to have to take it all out and start over!  But that’s another day!  The table between the two chairs holds a lamp from my great grandparents, a box full of old letters and photos, some antique reading glasses, a medical kit from my 3 times great grandfather who was a Dr., some small books of antique maps and a diary from my 4 times great grandfather.  There is also a photo of my great grandparent’s house, later my grandparent’s, in Clarksville, TN before it was renovated.  Many of the old things in my house were in that house.

.The pantry is much more organized now and I have painted one of the barstools for the kitchen, although it is not the color I want and I will have to figure that out before I paint the others.  The upper left photo is my great, great grandmother’s cook books and my grandmother’s and mom’s rolling pins and large crock.

The one room that is finished – the powder room downstairs.

Home 4_2016-4721

Let’s go upstairs.  I have not shared any photos yet of the “before” because they were just empty rooms full of boxes.  I have cleared out the boxes and started to put together some “decor” but it is bare minimum.  In fact, one of the mattresses is still on the floor.  One day . . . there will be bed frames and headboards and curtains and dressers.  🙂

Kayson’s room is the only one complete but he is still not used to the house so he doesn’t sleep in it.  When he spends the night, he sleeps with Nana, of course.

The unfinished upstairs – the bonus room, the master bedroom, master bath, master closet, and laundry room.  They are in my plan for the next year and will require new furniture for the bonus room so they are off the radar right now.  And I am the only person that spends any time in the master area and laundry room so I plan on taking my time and really thinking about what I want.  I am VERY lucky that I have a lot of space in these rooms so I can do something fun and creative.

So that’s the progress report.  I would love to hear your creative suggestions for any of the rooms.  Leave a comment with suggestions!

 

My Big Adventure

3 Comments

I am building a house.  I have never done that before.  I have learned a lot.  And I cannot wait to be in that house which should happen in mid-December.

The process started in April.  I was going to sell my house and move to a newer house. I had lived in that house since 1997.  It was our first time buying a house .  Although both my kids were born in Alabama before we moved to Tennessee, we had only rented before moving into this house.  My kids basically grew up there.  My husband died there.  My grandson came home to that house and they lived there with me for 2 1/2 years.  Lots of memories.  But not a lot of outlets.  It needed new . . . everything.  And I needed a change.

My realtor sent me many home listings to look at.  He is a friend and he knows me well so he knew what I was looking for.  I didn’t want to live right up next to people with no spaces between homes.  I wanted something newer, not necessarily bigger.  My home was 2000 square feet and I was the only one living there so the size was fine.  I loved my sunroom that I had built on and I spent a lot of time in that room and little time elsewhere in the house.  I just needed the new space to be more useable space with a little room for entertaining.  My house was a tri-level, built in 1978 so the space tended to be chopped up and closed in.  I needed more counter space and storage space.  And I needed more outlets.

He sent me several new builds which I had previously not even considered because I didn’t think I could afford them.  As I looked at them . . . ding, ding, ding!  I COULD afford them.  Why would I keep looking at someone else’s home when I could build one I wanted with EXACTLY what I wanted?  I decided I needed a master on the main and a large kitchen.  My knees didn’t really want to do stairs and I am, after all, a Nana and only getting older.   He took me to look at some models. I really WAS trying to be practical.  Really.  And then I fell in love with a house.  Well, really I fell in love with a kitchen.

The Wakefield kitchen is part of a large open space across the entire back of the house.  The kitchen had tons of cabinets, tons of counter space, a huge pantry, a large bar and lots of light.  It was open to the eating area and family room with fireplace.  The cabinets were white, the granite was light in color and there was a light blue subway tile backsplash.  It was beautiful and exactly my style.  It was MY kitchen.  I wanted it.

I didn’t care that the house was 3500 square feet, much too large for just me.  I was so excited that my family could come and visit and would have space to stay.  I didn’t care that there was virtually no yard and the homes were 10 feet apart.  I didn’t care that the stairs were steep and straight up to the second floor.  I didn’t care that the master was upstairs because the master/master bath/laundry room were all amazing too.  I wanted it.  And I could afford it.  That is, IF I got the right price for my existing home.

Everything went smoothly into motion.  I proceeded with faith that this was going to happen.  I put my house on the market in late May and it sold for what I wanted and in less than 3 weeks.  OH, there bumps along the way, including a raccoon having babies in the walls under my master bath.  That’s another story for another day.  But it sold and I moved into a 1 bedroom apartment to wait patiently for my kitchen, I mean my house, to be built.

While I waited, I began to wonder if this was the right thing for me or if I was being selfish.  This house is too big for just me, what if I lost my job, what about the upkeep, am I being crazy?  But here’s the thing . . . I am 54 years old.  I always dreamed of having a house like this.  If not now, when?

I have worked hard and supported myself and my family.  I have done it alone since 2001.  I don’t want to say I “deserve” it.  No one “deserves” anything, good or bad.  I believe if you make your life choices based on the right reasons and think them through, you will make choices that enhance your life as well as others.  Sometimes it’s what you desire and sometimes it’s a learning experience.  But you always grow.  And sometimes you gotta take a chance.

I’m taking my chance.