Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Official Blog Congratulations Make the Event Official
Congratulations to two dear people in our lives, Philboy and Liz. They just became engaged. I have to wait impatiently until I see them tomorrow to hear all of the proposal details, but let it be known that these are two of the best people in the whole entire world, and they deserve all the happiness that marriage can bring!
Daily Eye Candy: Christmas Card
I did remember to put together Christmas cards this year (I might share later...I think they are better than my attempt last year), and we have received some lovely cards from friends and family. One of my favorite parts of the season is to collect the mail and find a card with our name on it! This is actually more of an accomplishment than you might think; our mail carrier is just plain awful!
The standout card of this year was created by a dear friend of ours. She's artsy. Cantcha tell?
It's a handmade pop-out card! Also known as "incredible"!
Look at the bricks on that chimney!
There is a tree with little ornaments, and even gifts beneath!
There is even a little fire in the fireplace, which is decorated with tiny stockings. Seriously, my head exploded because this is so adorable.
The standout card of this year was created by a dear friend of ours. She's artsy. Cantcha tell?
It's a handmade pop-out card! Also known as "incredible"!
Look at the bricks on that chimney!
There is a tree with little ornaments, and even gifts beneath!
There is even a little fire in the fireplace, which is decorated with tiny stockings. Seriously, my head exploded because this is so adorable.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Daily Eye Candy
In honor of Christmas, today's Daily Eye Ear Candy features Tim Minchin's "White Wine in the Sun." I posted this last year, but I think it will become my personal holiday tradition. The lyrics are beautiful and haunting and remind me that the simple act of family togetherness is the most important part of the season.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Friday Fashion: Giving Back
BlindIrishPirate had a great post about Sseko Designs recently, and when I ran across this similar CNN article, I couldn't help but share via Friday Fashion.
Gift-giving is synonymous with the holidays. Husband and I have really worked to set reasonable limits for ourselves in regards to Christmas consumerism, but I will be the first to admit that I love to watch others open gifts that I have carefully selected and wrapped with love. Wouldn't those gifts be so much better if, in addition to the recipient's enjoyment, they created opportunities for those less fortunate?
Below are just a tiny sampling of the beautiful goods available...
Global Goods Partners, Handmade Flower Placemats, $30. From Swaziland.
Nest, Naema Necklace, $38. From Morocco.
Ten Thousand Villages, Handmade Bamboo Motif Teacup, $10. From Nepal.
Go forth and spend conscientiously.
Gift-giving is synonymous with the holidays. Husband and I have really worked to set reasonable limits for ourselves in regards to Christmas consumerism, but I will be the first to admit that I love to watch others open gifts that I have carefully selected and wrapped with love. Wouldn't those gifts be so much better if, in addition to the recipient's enjoyment, they created opportunities for those less fortunate?
Below are just a tiny sampling of the beautiful goods available...
Global Goods Partners, Handmade Flower Placemats, $30. From Swaziland.
Nest, Naema Necklace, $38. From Morocco.
Ten Thousand Villages, Handmade Bamboo Motif Teacup, $10. From Nepal.Go forth and spend conscientiously.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
An Ending
I have trouble with firsts and lasts. Something in me always recognizes the beginning and ending, however inconsequential, and stirs my sentimentality.
...This is the first time I have stepped foot onto my college campus as a student...My sweater is irreversibly stained; I will never wear this sweater again...This is the first (and last) time I will ever eat green bean casserole...My parents are selling my childhood home; I will never again step foot in my old bedroom...
That last one is fresh. My parents sold the house today. It is cause for much celebration. They won't have to heat the house during the long winter months ahead. My dad won't have to drive there through snow and ice every few days to make sure no one has stripped the place of copper or vandalized the interior. They can finally close a chapter in their lives that climaxed with my dad's illness. They don't have to sleep in the first-floor living room anymore. My mom doesn't have to help my dad carefully pad down the rickety staircase to the basement shower ever again. They don't have to worry about something happening without neighbors near enough to run to for help.
And as much happiness as I feel for them, as much relief for their safety that the move brings to my mind, my heart cannot help but ache for the loss of our family home, filled with memories, both good and bad, but mostly good.
Husband and I went back to take pictures of the inside of the house one final time Saturday. I really didn't want him to go, so I could have an embarrassing, ugly cry alone, but he insisted, and I am glad that he did. My mom had taken the hidden key with her a few days prior, and he is the only person that could have entered the correct combination into the realtor's lock, gaining us entry. I took some final pictures inside, and we walked through one last time, without a camera. I savored the sound of the creaky stairs. While laying in my bed, I could always tell which parent was ascending, just by the rhythm of their footsteps. I breathed deeply the basement, which still smells vaguely of the pet beds where our long-gone dogs, Nellie and Sallie, spent the nights. I touched the textured, floral wallpaper in my parents' bedroom. And I stood in my room and remembered playing with Barbie dolls on the floor, dressing up for dances, talking on the phone with best friends, crying over heartbreaks, and singing myself to sleep.
We returned to the house for the last time yesterday evening so I could take my final exterior shots. I traipsed through the snow covered ground in inappropriate shoes trying to capture all that I feared my memory would lose. I was so glad that my dad's shed was unlocked so that I could walk in one last time and breath the scent that I have never experienced anywhere else, a combination of oil and dirt, the smell of a family that makes their living from the earth. As Husband and I drove away, in spite of my tears, I felt a warm, small sense of peace. A new family will grow to love the house, filling it up appropriately with three children. Both adults are teachers, just like my Grandma and Grandpa were. And even though it is an ending, it is a beginning, too, for that family, and for mine.
...This is the first time I have stepped foot onto my college campus as a student...My sweater is irreversibly stained; I will never wear this sweater again...This is the first (and last) time I will ever eat green bean casserole...My parents are selling my childhood home; I will never again step foot in my old bedroom...
That last one is fresh. My parents sold the house today. It is cause for much celebration. They won't have to heat the house during the long winter months ahead. My dad won't have to drive there through snow and ice every few days to make sure no one has stripped the place of copper or vandalized the interior. They can finally close a chapter in their lives that climaxed with my dad's illness. They don't have to sleep in the first-floor living room anymore. My mom doesn't have to help my dad carefully pad down the rickety staircase to the basement shower ever again. They don't have to worry about something happening without neighbors near enough to run to for help.
And as much happiness as I feel for them, as much relief for their safety that the move brings to my mind, my heart cannot help but ache for the loss of our family home, filled with memories, both good and bad, but mostly good.
Husband and I went back to take pictures of the inside of the house one final time Saturday. I really didn't want him to go, so I could have an embarrassing, ugly cry alone, but he insisted, and I am glad that he did. My mom had taken the hidden key with her a few days prior, and he is the only person that could have entered the correct combination into the realtor's lock, gaining us entry. I took some final pictures inside, and we walked through one last time, without a camera. I savored the sound of the creaky stairs. While laying in my bed, I could always tell which parent was ascending, just by the rhythm of their footsteps. I breathed deeply the basement, which still smells vaguely of the pet beds where our long-gone dogs, Nellie and Sallie, spent the nights. I touched the textured, floral wallpaper in my parents' bedroom. And I stood in my room and remembered playing with Barbie dolls on the floor, dressing up for dances, talking on the phone with best friends, crying over heartbreaks, and singing myself to sleep.
We returned to the house for the last time yesterday evening so I could take my final exterior shots. I traipsed through the snow covered ground in inappropriate shoes trying to capture all that I feared my memory would lose. I was so glad that my dad's shed was unlocked so that I could walk in one last time and breath the scent that I have never experienced anywhere else, a combination of oil and dirt, the smell of a family that makes their living from the earth. As Husband and I drove away, in spite of my tears, I felt a warm, small sense of peace. A new family will grow to love the house, filling it up appropriately with three children. Both adults are teachers, just like my Grandma and Grandpa were. And even though it is an ending, it is a beginning, too, for that family, and for mine.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Daily Eye Candy
I'm busy, busy, busy, but I wanted to share some warm, wonderful Daily Eye Candy with you from RedEnvelope.com.
I realize that I act approximately 80 years old, but I can imagine no better pleasure than to wake up on Christmas morning to sip hot chocolate and open gifts with Husband, both of us wearing these red "His and Hers Long Johns," 34.95. That scene probably belongs in some kind of corny Christmas movie with lots of hugging and loving overtures. Of course, this would never happy in reality because Husband runs about 20 degrees hotter than I do.
Ah, dreams.
I realize that I act approximately 80 years old, but I can imagine no better pleasure than to wake up on Christmas morning to sip hot chocolate and open gifts with Husband, both of us wearing these red "His and Hers Long Johns," 34.95. That scene probably belongs in some kind of corny Christmas movie with lots of hugging and loving overtures. Of course, this would never happy in reality because Husband runs about 20 degrees hotter than I do.Ah, dreams.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Daily Eye Candy
Just popping in for a quickie:
Jonathan Adler can do no wrong. This is manly enough for an XY cave, but I would really like it in my kitchen so I can start fires with the greatest of ease...$42.
Jonathan Adler can do no wrong. This is manly enough for an XY cave, but I would really like it in my kitchen so I can start fires with the greatest of ease...$42.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Among other things...
As an amendment to last week's Glee post, I do have to give them props for breaking out "Conjunction Junction." I forgot about this hilarious addition in the midst of all of all the heady horror.
----------------------------
Last week, two separate couples that we love produced two beautiful, bouncing boys in two successive days. All mamas and all babies are doing well, and we wish them the best. We were able to visit the hometown couple and their little Owen in the hospital the day after he was born!
And I didn't drop him or anything! It's unbelievable how tiny and perfect babies are, and that one day they will grow up to be whole entire people that will go to work and drive cars and eat steak. How ridiculous is that?
Is it getting hot in here, or is that just baby fever?
And I didn't drop him or anything! It's unbelievable how tiny and perfect babies are, and that one day they will grow up to be whole entire people that will go to work and drive cars and eat steak. How ridiculous is that?Is it getting hot in here, or is that just baby fever?
----------------------------
And finally, my parents (unofficially) sold their house. They close sometime in the next thirty days, and I'm feeling a galling mix of both sadness and relief. I am happy that they won't have to worry about the home's maintenance anymore, but how can I say good-bye to my childhood home? I find it impossible to get rid of old birthday and thank you cards, but a whole house? It's going to be hard.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Friday Fashion: Someone's in the kitchen with Dina
Certain people in my life who shall go unnamed have been clamoring for a Christmas list of late, which I've found quite difficult to compose this year. I just can't think of anything I need. Really! Until I saw these:
I KNOW, RIGHT? INDIVIDUAL CUPCAKE PEDESTALS. No, if you were wondering, nothing in life is more adorable than these. Set of 6, $42. I read somewhere that they are on sale for $35.
So the adorableness started me thinking about warm holiday baking, and then I started contemplating aprons again. I know I've covered aprons before, like in this post, but they are just so darn cute, especially the aprons from Anthropologie! I want to wear one as I gently place a freshly baked apple pie to cool on an open windowsill while leaning out and hollering to the well-muscled farmhands that, "Suppa's redday!"
Three-Star Apron, $32.
Trousseau Apron, $38.
Winter Iris Apron, $32.
The only problem with these aprons is that they are far too pretty to actually wear while I bake! No matter how hard I try to be neat, I inevitably end up with food coloring stained fingers, flour dusting my front, and icing smeared on my pants. How could I subject these beauties to that horror?
I KNOW, RIGHT? INDIVIDUAL CUPCAKE PEDESTALS. No, if you were wondering, nothing in life is more adorable than these. Set of 6, $42. I read somewhere that they are on sale for $35.So the adorableness started me thinking about warm holiday baking, and then I started contemplating aprons again. I know I've covered aprons before, like in this post, but they are just so darn cute, especially the aprons from Anthropologie! I want to wear one as I gently place a freshly baked apple pie to cool on an open windowsill while leaning out and hollering to the well-muscled farmhands that, "Suppa's redday!"
Three-Star Apron, $32.
Trousseau Apron, $38.
Winter Iris Apron, $32.The only problem with these aprons is that they are far too pretty to actually wear while I bake! No matter how hard I try to be neat, I inevitably end up with food coloring stained fingers, flour dusting my front, and icing smeared on my pants. How could I subject these beauties to that horror?
Thursday, November 18, 2010
The most recent Glee-tastrophe
So, here's the thing. When I was a little girl, I wanted to grow up and marry Gene Kelly.
I would sit down on the couch with my dad and lose myself in classics like Singin' in the Rain, An American in Paris, and Brigadoon. If I couldn't marry him, then at least I wanted to be Cyd Charisse so I could taste his sweet, sweet, entirely heterosexual kisses. Later, when I watched an aged Gene Kelly in Xanadu, I knew he still had the magic, even if the movie was awful (awfully, unintentionally hilarious, that is).
I remember listening to the news in 1996 and learning that he had died, and it was tragic.
He is a legend. And I will unabashedly pronounce that Glee shat upon his work in their most recent episode by mashing up "Singin' in the Rain" with Rihanna's "Umbrella." And Gwyneth Paltrow, for God's sake.
And so I ask you, Glee producers, plaintively, beseechingly:
What. The. Fuck.
I would sit down on the couch with my dad and lose myself in classics like Singin' in the Rain, An American in Paris, and Brigadoon. If I couldn't marry him, then at least I wanted to be Cyd Charisse so I could taste his sweet, sweet, entirely heterosexual kisses. Later, when I watched an aged Gene Kelly in Xanadu, I knew he still had the magic, even if the movie was awful (awfully, unintentionally hilarious, that is).
I remember listening to the news in 1996 and learning that he had died, and it was tragic.
He is a legend. And I will unabashedly pronounce that Glee shat upon his work in their most recent episode by mashing up "Singin' in the Rain" with Rihanna's "Umbrella." And Gwyneth Paltrow, for God's sake.
And so I ask you, Glee producers, plaintively, beseechingly:
What. The. Fuck.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
