Teapots and Polka Dots

A Taste of France in North Hollywood

2012-02-16T09:25:00.000-08:00

Last Friday, my friend C. asked me if I wanted to go on an adventure--a food adventure.

Umm, YEAH!!

It turns out she recently stumbled upon a culinary gem. In the middle of a light-industry district in our neighborhood, there is a business called "Epicure Imports." The company has a warehouse filled with all sorts of fine foods--especially French fine foods. Usually, it's a wholesale business, open only to restaurants. But a few times a year, the warehouse flings open its steel-roller doors to the public, and foodie folks in the know come-a-runnin' to snap up hard-to-find delicacies at wholesale prices.

Photo: Epicure Imports

So of course we went.

Photo: Epicure Imports

Omigollygoshalmighty! I was in hog heaven. Knowledgeable employees handed out free bites of sausages, cheeses, olive oils, and chocolates.

I pushed my cart up and down, admiring aisles and aisles of gorgeous imported goodies. In the chill of their walk-in cold case, I pondered which of the 8 bajillion cheeses I should bring home. I ogled folks buying saucisson and shrink-wrapped rabbit slices and foie gras and all sorts of things that I won't buy (or eat) but that honestly look amazing nonetheless.

Photo: Epicure Imports

And of course I sampled chocolates. Lots and lots of chocolates:

Photo: Epicure Imports

I came home with a carton full of goodies. Here is some of the booty. Olive oils--including a truffle-scented one:

Balsamic vinegars, infused with fig and blackberry flavors:

Beans for cassoulet (This one made me laugh, because although these are made for the French consumer, the beans are from Idaho. So here they are, back in the U.S.A.):

Sweet cassis syrup and vanilla-flavored chestnut spread, suitable for slathering on bread or dotting over a bread pudding:

Sea salts:

A ginormous jar of dried wild mushrooms:

Which I plan to use, first off, with some of the orecchiette and green lentils, here:

So, now it's off to plan tonight's dinner.

Maybe something with French cheese in it?

(Note: If you live in the Los Angeles area, the next open-warehouse even is Friday, March 30 and Saturday, March 31. Go here to learn more.)

Happy Valentine's Day, in Flowers

2012-02-14T07:01:00.000-08:00

Happy Valentine's Day! My garden is bursting with pink, white, and violet, just in time for this romantic day. Here are a few of Nature's offerings, right outside my door:

Camellia

Geranium

Tulip Tree

Violet

Tulip Tree

Camellia

Azalea

Violet

Cyclamen

Paint-Your-Own Artwork

2012-02-10T08:54:00.000-08:00

You might remember last week I wrote about a hotel in Maui with this artwork:

It's big and grand and eye-catching.

It's also totally easy to replicate. Grab a bunch of square canvases, paint each one--including the side edges as well as the tops--and hang next to each other:

Or you can just paint one big ol' canvas. Which is what I did a number of years ago for the area over our fireplace:

It was so easy, and so much fun! First, I bought a big, prestretched canvas for less than $10 at the local crafts-supply shop. I chose four or five tubes of inexpensive acrylic paint in colors to match the room's rug. Here's Mu Shu, showing you the rug's colors:

The colors are a little blanched out in this photo, but oh well. You get the idea. Next, I covered our patio table with newspaper and set the canvas flat and face up on the table. (Do this part outside because it can get messy.)

I handed a variety of tools--paint scrapers, plastic knives, paint-stiffened old brushes, a palette knife--to Lovely Daughters #1 and #2 and a few of their friends. Each teenager grabbed a tube of color and a tool, and they went to town! I reminded them to paint the sides:

The painting went fast and furious! In a few minutes, I called "Time!" so they stopped just before filling the entire canvas with color. The painting needed some blank areas where the white showed through to let the whole thing "breathe."

And there you have it:

Modern art, perfectly colored for the room it hangs in, cheap as dirt, and the memento of a very fun time with teenagers:

Mu Shu approves.

Buzz Off, Mr. Morris!

2012-02-09T15:30:00.002-08:00

"Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful."

This quote by the 19th-century English designer, writer, and artist William Morris has been a guiding principle in my life.

It has helped shape what I buy, what I keep, and what I give away.

But sometimes it's also held me back.

Like the other day, when I was cleaning the crumbs out of my cutlery holder:

My brown. Rubbermaid. Plastic. Cutlery holder:

This godawful piece of plastic has been uglifying our kitchen drawers for more than 30 years:

Three decades!

But it was totally useful, and I don't like to buy things needlessly, so I let the tray stay.

And then, once more wiping out the crumbs and pug hairs, I just snapped.

Enough!

Enough of looking every day, several times a day, at a butt-ugly thing that makes me go "Grrrrr!" every time I see it.

Life's too short.

So I took my $5-off coupon to Bed, Bath, & Beyond, and I bought a useful AND beautiful new cutlery tray made of bamboo for less than $10.

Now when I open this drawer, I smile.

Every single time.

Snowshoeing in Sequoia National Park

2012-02-08T13:46:00.000-08:00

Last weekend, The Hubby and I visited California's Sequoia National Park, on the western side of the Sierra Nevada.

The park contains the "Giant Forest," home to 5 of the 10 biggest trees on Earth.

These trees are big. Big, big, big!

Giant Forest is also the home to General Sherman, the single biggest living thing (by volume) on the planet. How big is that? The drawing below will give you an idea:

That teeny little scratch between the Sequoia and the Blue Whale? That's the size of a person.

(This single chunk of tree is about the length of an adult Blue Whale.)

General Sherman is so big, you can only take pictures of it a slice at a time. Here's The Hubby and me, in front of its massive base:

There's just no way of describing how big this thing is. You just have to see it in real life. You'll never forget it.

We visited The General, and many of his compadres, by strapping on some snowshoes and hiking through the snow-covered forest. It is really easy to use snowshoes! I was fine within 30 seconds of walking around. It just takes a little time to put them on, along with the gaiters (to keep your lower legs dry):

Here's The Hubby and me, all suited up and ready for a lovely six-mile hike through one of the most beautiful places on Earth:

I swear we didn't coordinate our outfits; it just happened that way! And now I will be quiet (mostly) and let you enjoy the beauty of Giant Forest:

(A burnt-out Sequoia. Fires are a natural part of the life cycle of these enormous trees.)

(Look closely to see the guy at the base of the tree, above.)

(See the gal at the tree's base?)

(Black Bear tracks, above and below.)

(This is the underside of a giant tree that fell over.)

(Some smallish mammal made these tracks--Fox? Marten? I don't know.)

(Closeups of moss (above) and mushrooms (below) on the fallen giant, above.)

(The snow cover made it hard to see where the trail went. Thank goodness for topo maps on smart phones!)

(Giant Sequoias can withstand a lot of burning and still live, like this ski-through beauty, above.)

Our cozy lodge beckoned at the end of a long day:

Putting your feet up and having a drink at the end of the day with friends? Priceless!

Grateful

2012-02-07T10:33:00.000-08:00

Last weekend, while The Hubby and I were on a little getaway, Lovely Daughter #2 was in a car accident.

Luckily, she is fine. Unfortunately, her dear Little Red Car--the one she's had since she got it second-hand at age 16--is totaled.

I am profoundly, endlessly grateful for our luck. It could've been so much worse.

We will all miss that little car. I have only this one photo of her driving it.

Thank you, Little Red Car, for carrying our precious daughter to and fro for 6 years.

Thank you for giving her her first taste of independence. Thanks for all the happy memories she has from her days as your driver. Thank you for protecting her from harm on the last trip you took together.

Love,

The Mom

Hawaii Hotel Decorating ideas

2012-02-02T21:07:00.000-08:00

Last week I was in a hotel in Maui, wondering, "Why does everything here looks so terrific?" And "Can I copy this interior design?"

The more I looked, the more I realized; there are tons of great design ideas you can copy from a lovely hotel. Hotels use the same good design principles that we've all read about and try to ape, just on a very big level. The same ideas, redone small, work for any home decorator, too.

Take this vignette in a corner of the lobby (I've included my blue shoulder bag, on the tabletop, so you can see the huge scale of these pieces). Basically, it's just an overgrown console table, a picture, and two wall sconces:

And the takeaway, here? I see two:

Takeaway #1: Symmetry is good. A picture exactly centered over a table, a couple of wall sconces symmetrically flanking an alcove: Well, anybody can copy that. This arrangement would work at the end of a hallway, or along an otherwise neglected wall in your living room, or in your entryway, if you're lucky enough to have one.

Takeaway #2: Use big, eye-catching artwork. This is easy to do:

Thisart is just a series of smaller canvases, hung cheek-by-jowl. Anybody can do this! Go to Michael's or Hobby Lobby or whatever craft or art store is in your area. Buy four or six or eight square, prestretched canvases. Maybe yours won't be this big. Maybe you only have room on your wall for four; That's okay. Grab a bunch of acrylic paints and some cheap brushes, and let your imagination run wild. (If your imagination is too timid to run wild just yet, then copy the patterns above, in your own color scheme. I promise not to tell!)

Be sure to wrap the paint around the edges of the canvas, because the color will be visible from the sides.

Then hang them up so they butt together and voila! You've got unique, eye-catching artwork.

Here's another lesson you can copy easily:

Takeaway #3: Cover the dirt in potted plants with something attractive. Here's a very pretty plant:

Around the base of the plant, where the bare dirt would otherwise show, a few very inexpensive shell necklaces have been draped:

A totally copy-able idea! You have my permission.

Here's a second dirt-cover-upper. Simple, tumbled river rocks. (I uncovered the pot a little so you can see how it's tucked into the larger, ornamental pot:

Well, heck. Your local building-supply store has these, and in many colors and textures. Go get 'em:

I love this little grouping of chairs and tables at the end of a huge, long loggia (below). I love anything blue, of course; but what I'm loving here is how copy-able this idea is. Place seating for two or three opposite seating for two or three more (and it could be two chairs opposite a loveseat, or two chairs opposite two chairs). In between, in place of the expected, static coffee table, scatter three small tables.

Takeaway #4: Break up static arrangements of furniture with pieces that throw the arrangement "off" a little.

Three round tables like these might be too much for the average living room. But think three tiny cocktail tables instead. Or three of those ceramic garden stools. Extra bonus points if you can find them with storage, like drawers, or lids that lift off!

Takeaway #5: When in doubt about what color to do next, look for a multi-hued thing in the room (in this case, the rug, below) and lift a less-used hue out of it (in this case, the rug's skinny blue stripe). Use that same color in a larger application (in this case, the cabana-striped chair cushions).

The effect is very pulled-together:

On the wall near this seating group, I noticed several lessons in this piece of art:

Takeaway #6: Add gravitas and importance to a piece of art by surrounding it with lots of matting and a simple, understated frame.

This may or may not be some fancy-shmancy woodblock print by an important artist; I don't know. What I DO know, though, is you can replicate this look with a couple of pieces of hand-made paper from your local good artists'-supply store, a bottle of ink, a tapered watercolor brush, and plenty of white space. There's white space around the outer third of the art, itself.

And there's more white space behind the art in the generous-sized matting.

Directly below the art, above, I admired this console table, and two more takeaway lessons popped up.

Takeaway #7: Intriguing details support your room's overall "theme." My eyes were drawn first to the table's legs, which look like stylized pineapples--perfect for a Hawaiian hotel.

Say you desire a cowboy-country kitchen; Look for wormy wood, worked leather, aged metal fittings--things that look like chicken-coop mesh or horse tack or old barbed wire. If you're trying to recreate Paris in your powder room, look for mirrored or gilded items that sparkle like the City of Lights, or aged metals that evoke its ancient roots. If you yen for Zen in your bedroom, find things that have a bamboo accent, or rope or raffia details, or that incorporate worn river rocks, like these nifty bathroom "rugs," below:

photo credit: webellion

Anyhoo, back to the console table. Embedded in it--literally!--was...

Takeaway #8: Use materials that hark back to Nature, like the tabletop on the console:

I couldn't tell if this was legit stone with thousands of tiny shell fossils in it, or a facsimile made of concrete and shell shapes. But if I can't tell, chances are your guests can't, either.

Then I wandered out to the garden area. You can't go far in Hawaii without seeing beautiful flowers, like this orchid:

Which was part of a huge branch of orchids:

Which was in turn part of a gigantic pot of orchids:

Which was, in turn, one of a number of identical pots planted with the identical orchid, marching down the length of the lobby. The effect was smashing! Aaaand, the lesson is:

Takeaway #9: Repeat the same plants for maximum effect in a garden. (Too many different things going on in a garden can end up looking like what Christopher Lowell calls "visual dandruff.")

Also while outside, I came across a vignette that reminded me of my high-school art teacher, Jerry Dunphe.

Mr. Dunphe was the first person to teach me that a small spot of vivid color counterbalances a large swath of another, duller color. It works in the garden, too:

Takeaway #10: Small spots of intense color in a garden can counterbalance a whole lotta green. And it's easy to do if you have a plant this vivid:

Right across the drive from the crazy magenta plant (above), I ran into another design lesson, done in plants.

Takeaway #11: When decorating in all white, be sure to vary the textures to maintain visual interest. Here, the bougainvillea is doing the job. Because it's thorny, leafy...

...texture-y...

...and crinkle-y.

And while on the subject of white, here's yet another design lesson rendered in flowers:

Takeaway #12: When confronted with a shady or low-light spot, put something white.

In this dark area under a border of native greens, it's done with Impatiens. In a dark landing or hallway at home, it might be accomplished with a bright-white painted piece of furniture:

Across the parking lot, my eye was drawn to this gorgeous variegated bougainvillea:

Underneath the bougainvillea grows this fantastical flower that looks like something from a Dr. Seuss book:

The effect of the two very different flowers, in the same shade, is stunning. And so...

Takeaway #13: Maintain a tight color palette in the garden, repeating the same one or two colors in different shapes and forms.

And finally I rounded back to the lobby of the hotel, where I came up with my final design tip.

Takeaway #14: If you have a large expanse of floors, rent a Zamboni:

Hawaii This 'n' That

2012-02-01T13:40:00.000-08:00

Last week, I was lucky enough to be in Maui for a few days. The Hubby had a conference, and I happily tagged along.

Hawaii in the middle of winter is a blessing; the balmy air, the liquid light, the perfumed flowers.

I've chronicled my love for Hawaii in other posts like here and here, so I won't go over territory I've already covered.

This time, I did a lot of watery things that didn't allow me to take photos with my non-water-friendly camera. I hung out in an "infinity pool," paddled a sea kayak, took a catamaran out whale-watching, and snorkeled around Molokini to see the abundant, beautiful colored fishes and the giant sea turtles.

But when I was on dry land, there was lots of fun to be had. There was lunching with The Gals:

Bopping around Lahaina, looking at the quaint and colorful shops:

Scaring our husbands by sending them pictures on our phones of us wearing expensive jewelry:

...and sitting under this gigantic banyan tree eating Hawaiian shave ice:

I loved the elegant little birds around the island:

These warning signs were posted where we were about to get on the catamaran. Great graphics, but Wow! Scary stuff!:

I like this idea, below. At a construction site, instead of the normal chain-link fence with tarp stretched over it, somebody added an outer layer of palm fronds over the ugly fencing. Way more attractive:

Of course, we enjoyed a gorgeous sunset each evening:

(No, that's not The Hubby and me. Sheesh!)

These twisty, stately trees cast shade on the front lawn of our hotel:

Right below the trees, Koi glided around in a stone-ringed pool:

Elsewhere on the grounds, I noticed the "palm trees" were actually banana plants. See the mini bananas!

The favorite thing I ate was this appetizer. Miso-sesame seed crispy cones, filled with seared Ahi tuna, bean sprouts, tiny shreds of cabbage, and a tasty sauce. I could've ordered four more and made an entire meal of them.

Tomorrow I'll share some cool stuff I discovered about our hotel. See ya then.

My New Frying Pan

2012-01-30T17:38:00.000-08:00

After serving me faithfully for umpty-bajillion years, my frying pan called it quits last month.

It was a good pan; Revere Ware, 12 inches across, with a matching lid. Good stuff.

But over the holidays, we fried latkes in the pan and saw that the pan's bottom had warped, doming up in the middle and pooling all the oil around the edges. That made latkes in the middle of the pan burn. Not good!

A warped pan bottom is unfortunate. Unfixable. And I've had this pan so long, I used to fry dinosaurs in it.

It was time for a new frying pan.

Enter this beauty:

This Calphalon pan has a clear glass lid, which my old pan didn't. It also has a short handle on the side opposite the long handle. I like that; it makes it easier to lift when filled with heavy food.

And the handles are the same sturdy material as the pan, which means the whole thing can go in the oven. My old pan couldn't go in the oven because its handles were some sort of high-impact plastic.

Plus, this thing is just dang gorgeous:

As the icons on the bottom of the pan show, it can be subjected to just about any kind of heat except microwave.

And, since it's a little larger than my old pan, it can really sautee up a lot of food at one time.

As for the old frying pan, I'll keep out of the land fill for a little bit longer. It is still useful for "wet" things, like spaghetti sauce and paella, where it won't matter quite so much that the bottom is domed.

Mmm, paella. Excuse me; I think I hear dinner calling!

Freezer Find

2012-01-29T08:00:00.000-08:00

I try to keep my freezer organized. Really, I do.

But every once in a while, something goes unlabeled. Or something skitters to the back of the compartment and hides there for months.

Or something goes unlabeled AND it hides. That's the worst.

Recently, one of these Frozen Blocks of Mystery shimmied to the top of the dog pile of frozen things. I set it in the fridge for a day to let it thaw so I could poke at it and figure out what it was.

Leftover Pumpkin Bread Pudding! Two neat squares, just right for The Hubby and me.

Luckily, I still had some of the caramel sauce I made back in November kicking around.

Unexpected tummy-warming desserts on a cold winter's day: Utter bliss!

Love Letters

2012-01-27T17:51:00.000-08:00

Recently I inherited a shopping bag full of postcards, notes, and letters I'd written to my parents when I was young. It seems like my folks kept everything I ever sent them:

It was odd to once again see my very young, schoolgirl handwriting, so different from my angular, jumbled hand now:

I was 10 when I wrote this postcard to my best friend while on an epic trip my family took to Europe. I remember being obsessed with "Romeo and Juliet" about this time:

In the jumble of notes, there is a valentine I made my folks when I was an adolescent. Not very accomplished, but heartfelt:

And a note I wrote as a teen, detailing when I'd be home, and where I'm going, and can I please have the car? Ha ha!

There's a newspaper clipping of me from a college dance performance:

(Oh, what a flat tummy I had back then!)

There are silly scribbles:

And housekeeping questions. This one makes me smile: Long-distance phone calls were expensive when I went to college. It was cheaper to dash off a postcard:

Going through the trove of old letters, I recognize stationery I used to have that I loved:

I recognize the typeface of my beloved electric typewriter, upon which I banged out oh, so many papers for my English major:

This one is interesting. I wrote it the first year of college, right before my folks met The Hubby (back then he was just The Boyfriend). They didn't think much of him at first!:

In this postcard, I'm in college, asking for more money (a typical request!) and complaining about the high cost of medicine--a whopping $6.10 for something to treat a back injury I sustained. Hah! What a difference between then and now:

It's a real gift, having all these cards, notes, and letters back in my hands again after so many years. I look at them and marvel at how much things have changed.

Well, most things.

That back injury still plagues me to this day.

Molasses by Mail

2012-01-24T18:00:00.000-08:00

A couple of days ago, a package arrived for me. Mu Shu and I were very excited.

"It's edible, isn't it?," Mu Shu seemed to say. Well, to a pug, there isn't much that isn't edible.

Yes, Mu, it's edible. It's old-fashioned dark molasses, the kind I need to make my mother's recipe for molasses cookies. It's getting very hard to find. None of my local grocery stores carry it any more, not even the hippie-dippy one.

God bless the Internet. I found it right away. I had to buy four bottles as a minimum purchase, but no worries: That just means more cookies! And because it has such a high sugar content, this stuff will keep for a long time.

Just looking at this little rabbit in his natty attire makes me so happy. Suddenly I'm eight years old, and something wonderful is about to come out of the kitchen.

Midwinter Wish

2012-01-23T18:01:00.000-08:00

For those of you still in the grips of cold, snow, and ice....

I want to send you this little bit of warmth and sunshine....

Mandarin oranges in the late afternoon light....

A simple wish for you....

...to find something today that warms you down to your toes.

Milk Crate Find

2012-01-22T09:12:00.000-08:00

Almost like clockwork, somebody in my neighborhood kicks a milk crate to the curb.

Why would anybody toss out one of these hard-working items?

They're so sturdy, so useful. In a family room, they can corral toys, extra toss pillows and throws, and yet-to-be-read books and magazines.

In a bedroom closet, they can store off-season clothes, boots, free weights, or things destined for the charity truck.

In a linen closet, they're perfect for beach towels, sleeping bags, extra quilts or blankets, or stacked sheet sets.

In the garage, they're indispensable for rounding up small cans of paint, gardening or power tools, coils of rope, sports equipment, recyclables, extra hoses, or cables.

This particular milk crate is very heavy duty. (It's also a very odd pea-soup-green color, but no matter.) If it made it into the landfill, it would be eons and eons before it biodegraded...if it ever did.

What a waste that would be. So this crate is going into our garage, where I'll use it to organize some of our shifting piles of stuff.

Unless I need it to contain a wayward pug.

An Abbey, a Countess, and a Toad

2012-01-18T09:34:00.000-08:00

My favorite television show right now: "Downton Abbey," a PBS Masterpiece Classic.

My favorite line from the show: "You are a lady, not Toad of Toad Hall!"

It's uttered by Maggie Smith, as the Dowager Countess of Grantham.

The character she's referring to is in this childhood classic, "The Wind in the Willows."

Love the show, love the quote, love this book.

Junk Drawers & Things Organized Neatly

2012-01-17T12:31:00.000-08:00

Junk drawers: Everybody's got one or two. Or--in our case--three, all in a row in the kitchen. Mostly the contents are under control, thanks to a lot of little cardboard boxes corralling stuff:

But that wooden box in the photo, above? What a mess!

I love the box itself: the bottom to an old cigar box my dad had:

After being neglected for a couple of years, this box needs to be sorted out. Some of it is misplaced office supplies, some is useful, and some is simply trash:

So I tipped out the contents on the kitchen table and sorted through it all:

What I found was ridiculous. I surely don't need this many metal split rings! I kept four or five of the sturdiest ones and tossed the rest into my city's bin for metal recyclables:

I don't know what these keys and key-like things are for, but I love their shapes. So they get a pass. (Visual appeal ranks high, around here.) Back into the box they go.

There's a small handful of marbles and metal ball bearings. Those stay, too, because they are so pretty.

These orphans are bits and pieces of games. They get relocated to the games closet:

This stuff, below, is truly junk. I don't even know what half of these things are. I figure, if nobody's looked for them or needed them for two years, off to recycling and trash they go!

Interesting metal shapes. The picture hanger gets relocated to the tool box; the bobby pins to my bathroom. The rest is recyclable:

An assortment of tokens and coins, below. The American coins go in the charity box, the foreign ones go to The Boy, who began a collection when he was little, and the token to a bar in Hawaii on the far left goes back in the box to commemorate a trip we took to Norway, where we met the bar's owner.

I use clothespins from time to time. They can close a bag of chips, peg up drip-dry clothes in the laundry room, and temporarily hold broken things together as the glue sets:

A collection of cat and dog ID tags, some from dear animals who've died. They stay; high sentimental value trumps usefulness every time for me!

After I relocated some things, tossed some, and recycled some, I had far much less in the junk box. And it made it easier to find what was left in the box.

By the way, if you like pictures of things organized neatly, take a look at "Things Organized Neatly," developed and curated by a design student. Each day he posts a picture or two of wonderfully tidy things. Lots of visual fun!

Last Rose Standing

2012-01-12T01:30:00.001-08:00

The rose bushes have all been cut back now, to let them rest for the winter:

Just thorny lower branches are left, looking like alien limbs:

The last rose standing has come inside, to grace the sink in the powder room:

It's a real beauty--a fitting, final note to the symphony of roses that's been playing since last spring:

Meanwhile, out in the garden, somebody is already gearing up for the show that will start in a couple of months:

I always did like a go-getter.

One-Sentence Journals

2012-01-12T01:30:00.000-08:00

Do you keep a daily journal? For decades I didn't. To me, "journal' meant those overwrought, weepy letters to myself, written late at night during my college years. They make me cringe to re-read years later.

But three years ago, I wanted to chronicle my life. Not with a big ol' bunch of essays; just with a little note to sum up each day. So I bought a small, week-at-a-glance calendar. Right before bed, I wrote a line or two about my day.

I wrote about something notable that happened, or something that made me happy. Occasionally I vented over something that drove me crazy or made me angry.

It was a small thing. Satisfying. Do-able. But I didn't think much about it. I wasn't sure if I'd even keep a mini journal for 2012.

And then I read the February issue of "Good Housekeeping" magazine:

(BTW, Jennifer: Good job on the weight loss! You look great.)

On page 99 there's an article about writing a daily, one- or two-sentence journal. The author finds it very satisfying, much less daunting than writing a long piece. And therefore much easier to keep doing:

And I realized I'd miss my itty-bitty journaling if I let it go. So I bought this adorable, coral-colored leatherbound calendar at my local, independent stationery store:

It comes with a little ribbon to mark your place and a tiny pencil:

The maker is "Letts of London," and they must be doing something right, because they've been around since 1812:

Dear Letts: I love how the pencil tucks into this little pocket, here:

I also bought a packet with two tiny Moleskine notebooks in two shades of lilac. I don't even know what I'm going to do with them, but they are undated, so they can hang around until I find a purpose for them.

And the purpose for my mini-journals? Not sure. I may mine them, years from now, for a memoir. Or I may just bequeath them to my children, so they can share them with their children and even grandchildren someday.

It might be nice, reading what made Great-Nana Juli so happy on January 11, 2012.

Pugs on a Rug

2012-01-11T00:30:00.000-08:00

Every time I drive, walk, or ride my bike down an alley, I feel a little tingle of anticipation. Will I find a castoff treasure, or just a bunch of garbage cans filled with trash?

This week, I found a real prize:

(The pugs give you a good sense of the rug's size.)

An area rug, rolled up and set next to the garbage cans. I unrolled it to find that it's 100% wool, from Pottery Barn, 5 feet by 7 feet, in a glorious, over-the-top design and color scheme.

Pao Pao (center, above) may eat cigarette butts and worse, but when I say, "Sit! Stay!," he is ALL business. Good dog!

So I rolled it up and took it home. The rug is in terrific condition:

All it needs is a visit to the cleaner's, and then it will be like new. And even though cleaning a rug this size might run $60-$70 here in Los Angeles, look at the original price:

What a deal! I'm going to give it to Lovely Daughters #1 and #2, to replace a rather mannish, black-and-tan geometric one that they currently have in their living room. (It's really The Boy's rug, just on loan to them.) The newfound rug will play nicely with their deeply-colored couch:

A rug this design-intensive might not work in rooms with a lot of pattern. But the LDs' living room is a study in solids--solid light gray walls, solid-colored couches, solid-color leather side chair. So, the floral rug will look great there.

Opposite the curvy, antique-looking couch (pictured above) is a big, modern, tan-colored one from West Elm that their housemate brought with her. It looks a lot like this one:

Photo: West Elm

The two couches look terrific across from each other, and the tan background in the back of the "found" rug is the same shade as the modern sectional.

The new rug will also play nicely with their dining-room chairs. You may have read last August that I found these cuties, made for IKEA, at my local Goodwill and snapped them up for $10 each.:

When he sees this post, The Hubby is going to ask, "Didn't you declare that you were through picking up stuff by the side of the road for the girls?" Well, yeah. I did.

But when the opportunity to swap out one okay thing for one fabulous thing comes along, I'm all over it.

Like a pug on a rug.

Label Crazy

2012-01-10T11:10:00.000-08:00

Yesterday afternoon I was puttering around in my pantry, taking note of what canned and dried foods were getting low.

In this quake-prone part of the world, it's always a good idea to make sure you have enough bottled water and food on hand to last for several weeks.

If the Big One strikes, we're ready. We might have to eat beans every day for two weeks, but we're ready.

But wait! Something's missing!

Nawww. I'm not talking about the low count on certain kinds of beans. What I'm missing is labels.

Yeah, that's better!

What is it about labeling things that feels so dang satisfying?

I dunno. But I love to label stuff.

It's a way of life.

Less Desk Mess

2012-01-09T01:00:00.000-08:00

It took longer than I thought, but my desktop is slowly getting under control. This is a "Before" shot:

And this is the "After," looking at the same piece of real estate (along with a few, fresher roses):

Another "Before":

And its "After":

Before:

A slightly wider screen shot of "After":

A long shot, looking down the length of my desktop:

(There is always a pug lurking about, in my world!) You can tell from these photos that I'm not a Minimalist. I'm never going to achieve that one-pencil-cup, one-closed-laptop look that some gorgeous desks have:

That's fine with me. I picked up this sweet little organizer, below, at a local charity thrift shop. Two drawers and a top surface with sides to corral a line of books or whatever:

I loooove the old-fashioned finger pulls/identifier frames that are begging for some tidily written labels:

The organizer is ever so slightly beaten up around the edges, but no matter. You won't notice that when it's set on the desk, doing its job:

It was quite a steal, at $10, nearly one-fifth its original price:

I'm looking forward to filling it with with books and office-y things. It will be a nice addition to my desktop:

And underneath the desk, I already have my accessories in place!:

January Cheap Treats

2012-01-06T12:03:00.000-08:00

Because it's January, and I've resolved to treat my skin a little better, I've added a new player to my (quite minimal) daily beauty regimen:

This Neutrogena sunblock spray really is fresh and cooling, just like it says. There's no greasiness to it, no smell, and you can find it at the drug store for less than $9 for a 5-ounce cannister. I mist it on my arms and back of the hands, right down to the knuckles, as well as on my neck and chest, before I head out for the day. My dermatologist would approve, I'm sure.

After 20 years of not wearing any perfume, I'm treating myself to scent again. One of my new favorites is Faith Hill's eau de toilette "True," a modest splurge at $25 per ounce. It smells like clean, clear water, like a cool spring breeze, like denim cutoffs and a fresh white tank top. I found it at my local drug store:

I love the packaging, and of course, it doesn't hurt that it's pale blue:

Another new favorite is "Dream More," a body mist from Gap, ridiculously inexpensive at less than $10 for a 7-fl. oz. bottle. (It was on sale.) It reminds me of crisp,white paper, of a lavender-scented breeze, of purple and white crocuses poking up through the March snowdrifts of my Kansan childhood:

At this price, I can afford to spray it all over myself, the linen closet, and my drawer full of vintage hankies:

Aaaand it doesn't hurt that it is a pale lavender-blue.

By now you've figured out I'm a sucker for pretty packaging. Here's another package I love, an intensely fragranced hand cream that is also light and quickly absorptive. It's available here at $24 for 4 ounces, which sounds pricey. But a little dab is all you need, so it will last me months and months:

It's called "Breathe," and it has shea butter in it for richness and peony and white lily for fragrance. To me, it smells like my infant daughters' skin.

(For some reason, both Lovely Daughters #1 and #2 smelled like flowers when they were babies. The Boy smelled entirely different, like fresh bread. All three of them were delicious.)

Lollia hand cream packaging is so pretty that the back is even more attractive than the front:

As a final January treat, I nabbed this beauty at my weekly patrol through the local Goodwill store:

A generous 13 inches across, this glass platter sports an uneven, goofy series of concentric circles:

I love how the platter look like ripples in a pond:

And it was only $4.99.

Gotta love that.

New Zealand Silver Beauty

2012-01-05T21:37:00.000-08:00

I love silver hair. I love women who are strong enough, self-assured enough, to thumb their nose at society's ideas about aging and say Buh-Bye! to the roots, the smell, the expense, and just let their own sterling glories shine through. Snow, frost, pewter, silver: I love all the shades.

This Silver Beauty caught my eye across a courtyard when I was lunching at a winery in New Zealand. Her bold approach to hair color makes me rethink the whole dying-the-hair thing:

IF I were ever to dye my hair again, THIS is how I'd love to do it. She looks edgy, modern, intriguing, and absolutely fearless.

But I wonder; does she limit her wardrobe to only those things that match her hair?

Blue Bottle

2012-01-03T00:30:00.000-08:00

Have you ever bought a bottle of beer or wine based solely on its looks? Recently, I did. This one grabbed my attention because of the beautiful, cobalt-blue glass.

And the name--Polka dot!

Even the cap is cute:

So, what did a Riesling with a silly name and cute graphics taste like?

Quite good, actually. Crisp and clean and fun. Unpretentious. Much like the packaging.

And when it comes to packaging, I love blue bottles.

It's a bit of an obsession.

Out With the Old

2012-01-02T19:10:00.000-08:00

How's the new year goin' for you? I spent the majority of this second day of the year purging paper files. It felt so good!

I got rid of an entire grocery bag of paper, which will be recycled (naturally!):

Most of the papers were clippings for things like "How to get stains out of (fill in the blank)"--the type of stuff that you can find with a quick search on the Internet. I don't need that hogging real estate in my desk.

I also tossed out an entire trash basket full of paper that my city can't recycle--thermo-sensitive sales slips, metallic paper from holiday cards, and such:

I tossed out so much stuff that I was able to delete a whole pile of hanging files from my file drawers...

...which opened up an entire drawer for stuff other than hanging files. It just needed a quick wipe out to remove the dust and errant sticker that lay at the bottom of the drawer:

Speaking of stickers, I keep a file of them. But I realized the holiday-related ones are better kept with the wrapping paper and ribbons, in another part of the house. So off they went:

Now, my hanging files have room to breathe, and I have a very nice sense of accomplishment:

Tomorow, I tackle the desk top.

Wish.

Me.

Luck!

Happy First Day of the Year!

2012-01-01T10:31:00.000-08:00

Happy new year, everyone. My rosebushes are winding down, preparing for their winter's nap. These are almost the last blooms on the bushes. I cut these today, stood in the sunshine, and decided to dedicate this bouquet to you.

May you have a lovely new year, full of beauty and surprises.

Health and peace and love and harmony and fulfillment are my wishes for you all, dear readers.

Wine Cork Ideas

2011-12-28T21:27:00.000-08:00

If you drink wine, you get wine corks:

Some wine corks remind you of lovely times:

Some wine corks are just plain lovely:

I keep my corks in a display jar on a kitchen shelf.

I like the way they look. But when the jar is full, what should I do with them?

A quick check yields some good ideas (I Googled "wine cork art"). This person turned wine corks into wall art around a dart board (very helpful if, like me, you're a lousy shot and apt to strike the wall):

This person made them into a wine-themed wreath:

I love this holiday wreath made of just corks and red jingle bells:

This trivet is straightforward, simple, and rustic:

This crafter made herself a message board out of wine corks:

This small trivet, below, is by Reclamation Revolution. Simple and elegant, no?:

Photo: Reclamation Revolution

By the way, Reclamation Revolution has a FaceBook page filled with links to terrific ideas for re-using things. I love their tag line: "Saving the world by making one bad ass thing at a time." Ha ha!

This is one of my favorite solutions for using wine corks:

A frame around a wall mirror! This idea was in one of my shelter magazines, and the looks terrific, don't you think?

My local grocery store has a carton for recycling wine corks:

According to the signage, a group called ReCork turns the donations into cork soles on shoes:

But I think I'll toss my corks into the bag I'm collecting for the art program at my local preschools. They always appreciate fun materials to foster their creativity.

Curbside Rescues

2011-12-28T09:42:00.000-08:00

My neighbors were at it again this week, tossing things to the curbside that should have been donated to charity instead. First up, this sweet little cubby:

Granted, it's dusty and grandma-looking, with its current dark-brown stain. But look at the appealing, curvy lines it has:

Here's the back of it, looking down as I hold it against my knees:

I imagine it painted glossy white and hung on a wall above a dresser in a little girl's room, or perhaps a crafts room, like this gorgeous one.

The same household that tossed out the cubby also chucked two chairs currently lacking seats:

Such nice lines! Picture them with a modern, edgy fabric on the seat and painted a kicky color, like high-gloss tangerine or turquoise. They'd be so sweet.

Unfortunately, I learned that Goodwill has a nationwide policy of only accepting things "in working order," meaning they can't take these chairs. *Sigh.* Too bad; all they need is somebody with a little imagination and some simple DIY skills.

Also this week, somebody tossed out two nice-looking decorative pots.

Judging from the greenish stain and dirt inside this one, it had a plant in it. It could, again; there's not a chip or a crack on this thing. It just needs a good scrubbing.

The same household tossed this attractive metal planter:

My mother called these things by their French name, "cachepot." It just means an ornamental pot for holding and concealing a flowerpot.

Today, I ran across this handsome side table left in an alley:

Again, you have to look past the dust. Then you can see it's a very sturdy, masculine design, with ornamental leather straps and metal studs:

Next to the table was this basket:

It, too, had leather-and-metal accents:

Everything except for the seatless chairs went to Goodwill. Somebody, somewhere, will love these finds. And a worthy charity will profit from my finds. AND stuff will stay out of our overflowing landfills.

Please, folks, help spread the word: Don't be lazy and leave your stuff by the curb or the trashcan. Take it to a charity and let it have a second life.

Thank you!

Recycling Kerchiefs for Pound Puppies

2011-12-27T12:16:00.000-08:00

When my dogs come back from being professionally groomed, they smell wonderful and sport little neckerchiefs the groomers tie around their chubby little necks. (Hey, it beats bows on their ears!) But after a couple of hours, the dogs are ready to chuck the neckwear.

You can almost hear Won Ton saying, "Get this thing OFFAME!"

The kerchiefs are so cute. The patterns and colors make me smile:

Here's the kerchiefs they wore when I had them groomed last July 2 or 3:

But I didn't really need them. So they piled up in a corner of the laundry room.

Recently I realized I could donate all the kerchiefs to the pound puppies! I gave the kerchiefs a quick spritz of spray starch and a touchup with the iron:

...and then took the entire pile to the next dog-adoption event I worked.

For some reason, dogs look cuter--and attract more attention from passers-by and serious lookers alike--when they're sporting a scarf.

Do you have leftover kerchiefs from the groomer's? Or maybe a pile of bandanas from that last company picnic--the one with the Western theme? Consider donating them to your local adoption group.

They'll love you for it.

(All pound puppy photos taken by Karl Loveys. Thank you, Karl!)

December 24

2011-12-24T08:17:00.000-08:00

Happy Holidays, everyone! Teapots & Polkadots will be back after the weekend.

In the meantime, I wish for all of you the best and bubbliest.

Love,

Juli

Cookie Baking

2011-12-23T21:40:00.000-08:00

Today, my kitchen is awash in flour, sugar, and chopped-up nuts.

Every surface is covered with dirty spatulas, greased baking sheets, and batter-smeared bowls.

It's fun and festive, though.

I'm in a cookie-baking windstorm.

Things are looking mighty tasty.

And it smells terrific.

But I had to banish the pugs from the kitchen.

They were trying to lick up all the spilled flour, nuts, and sprinkles.

So I made a temporary barricade from a turned-over chair, a placemat, and a seat cushion.

Not everybody is happy about that.

From Norway, with Love

2011-12-19T13:32:00.000-08:00

I was at my neighborhood Goodwill a few days ago with a girlfriend. We were scouting for Christmasy-looking china or glass plates for less than $3. She wanted them for gifting home-made cookies and fudge to friends and family. (We found her three or four, including one I found for her that was ivory, hand-painted china decorated in 24K gold with a Christmas tree relief--score!)

We were just about to leave when I spotted this beauty sitting on a sunny shelf.

A foot and a half tall, with a cobalt-blue base rising to a sky blue in the neck, then back to a medium blue at the lip:

Simply gorgeous!

I picked it up--it was surprisingly heavy--and was thrilled to find it was only $5.99!

But what was its story? Who made it? I found this tiny sticker near the bottom:

Handmade, huh? And from Norway! Even if the sticker were to fall off, it had these marks stamped in the bottom:

It was filthy....

But I knew some elbow grease, a lintless white rag, and this stuff would take care of the grime:

Here is a lip-down view of this remarkable vase, right before I got to work cleaning it up:

A quick check on the Internet, and I learned that Magnor has been making gorgeous glass near Oslo for more than a century. Here are a few of their beautiful offerings, lifted from their website:

These beauties are supposed to resemble the churning surf. I want all three!

I don't know how old my vase is, nor how much it might have cost. I'm going to email Magnor a photo and ask them. In the meantime, the vase is very happy on my family room coffee table.

And I am thrilled with it!

Loose Change and Happy Toddlers

2011-12-17T08:21:00.000-08:00

Ever since my kids were in diapers, The Hubby and I have put money in a charity box at dinner on Friday nights. When the kids grew a little older and got a weekly allowance, The Hubby and I required them to hold some back and contribute to the box each Friday night.

Then, every December, we'd open the box as a family and take out the money we'd collected. We rolled the coins in those paper tubes the bank gives out, counted up the bills, and used that $$ to buy gifts for folks in need.

Some years that meant a trip to Target, where the kids helped me pick out items for a family their school "adopted" for the holidays. Some years we'd decide to give to a deserving charity that served children, like "Shoes That Fit."

This year, it's just The Hubby and me, and since he hates shopping, I decided on the charity by myself. First, I drove to the bank to turn all the loose change and small bills into some $20s and $10s.

And then I went to Target to buy some classic children's books in the "chubby" version--you know the kind--with the drool-resistant cardboard pages that can stand up to the abuse a toddler dishes out.

Books are one of my favorite things to give, especially children's books. They require parent-child interaction to get read. And parent-child interaction--the happy, snuggly, sit-on-my-lap kind--is one of the things that makes life worth living.

It's been 16 years since I read "Goodnight Moon" aloud to my last child, and I can still recite the entire thing by heart!:

"Pat the Bunny," with its movable parts, is a little bit more delicate than the rest of these books. On average, each of my children tore up two copies of "PtB" before they hit preschool. They just loved this book to death!

After Target, I drove over to the local police station and dropped the books in the barrel where the officers are collecting children's toys and things for the holidays.

This is such an easy, painless way to give.

You can do it like we do, setting aside a time of the week when everybody forks over some money. Or you can just dump the loose change in your pocket or wallet into a jar at the end of each day.

You'll be surprised how much money you will have at the end of a year.

And how wonderful it makes you feel.

Happy holidays!

This is Me

2011-12-13T11:58:00.000-08:00

Last weekend The Hubby's office had its annual holiday party. The theme was "Mad Men," and we were asked to dress appropriately.

I had my local beauty salon do a French Twist, and they helped me with my eyeliner. (How did women in the 1950s and '60s get those "cat tails" to come out even?

Anyhow, I liked the hairdo so much, I swiped an earring off my jewelry-bedecked branches arrangement and slapped it on to take these photos:

My twin reactions were "Yikes" and Wow."

The wrinkles and the silvery hair actually didn't make me flinch. I've lived with them so long, they weren't a surprise. But yikes, where did my top lip go? It used to be so full. And my jawline! *Sigh*. Once it was chiseled; now it's softened. And my skin...where did all those spots come from?

On the other hand...

This is me. This is what 57- almost-58 looks like. I thank my genes for what I have, and I thank my mother and her mother for teaching me that true beauty is ageless, a quality that shines from the inside out.

And I think of one of my favorite quotes, by the American essayist poet Raph Waldo Emerson (1803 - 1882):

"As we get old...the beauty steals inward."

Silver Beauties in The Wall Street Journal

2011-12-11T09:29:00.001-08:00

The other day, The Hubby brought home a fat, glossy magazine--it was the December 2011 insert in his subscription to The Wall Street Journal. This type of rag is usually stuffed with ads for ridiculously overpriced consumer crud and articles about the rich and famous reveling in their vulgar excess. Not at all my cup of tea:

The original photo of model Chanel Iman was taken by Hans Feurer.

But I leafed through it anyway, because I love looking at high-end photography. When I turned the page to this image, I actually gasped out loud:

My photo of the photo in the magazine, taken by Amy Troost.

Holy Moley! What a woman! What a photograph!

This is Clarissa Dalrymple. (What a name, right? Like something out of a novel by Charles Dickens or Jane Austen.) She is one of a handful of women photographed by Amy Troost, for an article called "Portrait of a Lady."

(Except for the topmost photo, by Hans Feurer, all these are Troost's portraits, and I just snapped them by putting the magazine in good light and taking a picture. I want to give credit to Troost, but I don't want you to think my photos-of-photos are hers. Got that?)

Ostensibly, the article was about the jewels the women were wearing.

Pffft. Jewelry, shmewelry.

What struck me is the power, the presence, the beauty of these women. And they were all Silver Beauties--women of a certain age who wear their sterling hair and their wrinkles like the badges of honor that they are.

Each photograph was more compelling than the last.

Shazzam! What attitude!

I hope I can be this balls-to-the-wall when I'm their age.

Beads by the Bay

2011-12-10T06:12:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I wrote about the delightful little town of Morro Bay; today I want to feature one of its shops, "Beads by the Bay."

"BbtB' is is a treasure chest, a jewelbox, a garden of delights. It is Ali Baba's cave of wonders, masquerading as a store that sells beads, beadmaking supplies, and all things related.

I was stunned the moment I walked in!

There is a huge wall--no, two walls--of beads in rainbow order (although my photos aren't necessarily):

Susan, the owner and Beader Extraordinaire, sells metal beads:

...and glass beads:

...seed beads:

...frosted floral beads:

...and funky, chunky beads:

Indeed, Susan sells beads from all over the world, including brass beads from Africa:

...and ceramic ones from Greece:

...and amber beads from South America:

These intriguing beads change color when exposed to the heat of your skin. The blue one in the middle turned that color after I held it a moment:

Ditto for the blue bee in the middle of the pile:

Her wall of pearl, shell, and coral beads made me swoon:

Ooh! Ah! I want, I want!

Yes, please. Yes!

In time for the holidays, Beads by the Bay has teeny glass snowman beads:

And Santas--with pale and black skin (how smart is that?):

There are Nutcracker beads, and beading materials in holiday colors:

If you like your jewelry ready-made, she has tons of things to consider, from delicate little Christmas-tree earrings:

...to all sorts of earrings for the rest of the year:

...to stunning, "statement" necklaces that command attention:

I would totally wear these two pearl necklaces like this, bandolero style, against a plain gray sweater or long-sleeved dress. How cool would that be?

This looked like so much fun: Susan sets out a long line of glass jars filled with all sorts of beads, one color per jar. You scoop up the beads and pop them into a little salsa container with a lid--one flat price per salsa cup! Make mine Salsa Verde, please:

This beautiful beaded bag is not for sale, but for inspiration. Susan made it in memory of the area where she grew up, not far from Walden Pond. It's a pondscape, bedecked with critters and seaweed hanging down:

It is quite possibly...

the most intricate...

the most unusual...

the most adorable thing in her shop. How cute is that little glass frog?

When your eyes can't take any more bead-itude without glazing over, you can wander out this back door...

...to a beautiful garden:

...where everything is for sale, because it's another business, owned by Susan's friend:

In the back of the garden is a gaily-painted little shack, where you might find the shop kitty, "Tonapa," basking in the sun:

Tonapa is the four-footed ambassador for Beads by the Bay:

The shack where Tonapa is hanging out is an appealing, cozy space, where Susan gives beading lessons:

But don't linger too long in the back, because you don't want to miss Susan's collection of gorgeous silk scarves for sale:

Or the drop-dead, one-of-a-kind, hand-carved beads:

Or the beads that are beaded over, themselves. Imagine this one, pinned to a shawl or the lapel of a coat. GOR-geous!:

Beads by the Bay has thoughtfully provided toys to keep little ones happy:

...and little suede-lined trays to help shoppers corral their picks:

I pick these, please:

But actually, I've given Susan these beads, to create something new and unique:

These beads, above and below, are from the trousseau of my Nana, when she married in 1913:

I can't wait to see what she makes of them. I know it will be beyond beautiful.

Beads by the Bay does repairs, classes, and carries all manner of beading books, tools, findings, and--of course!--beads. You can find Beads by the Bay on Facebook, on their own website at morrobaybeads.com, or you can visit at:
333 Morro Bay Boulevard
Morro Bay, CA 93442
805-772-3338

A Visit to Morro Bay

2011-12-08T22:00:00.000-08:00

Recently, The Hubby, Lovely Daughter #2 and I spent a long weekend in Morro Bay, a beautiful spot on the California coast. The coastal town is north of Santa Barbara and south of Monterey and Carmel.

It's a very small town (population about 10,000), with a very big rock:

The rock, just offshore and connected to the town by a spit of land, is a volcanic plug 581 feet tall. It dominates the scene:

Morro Rock is off-limits to climbers because it is sacred to Native American groups, and because it is home to a pair of nesting Peregrine Falcons, an endangered species.

But the jetty is open to rock-hoppers and visitors, and the views are beautiful:

The town has lots of appealing shops--book stores, coffee shops, second-hand clothing shops, and places that sell handmade things:

The harbor is home base for a small but thriving fishing industry:

And the beautiful beach attracts many different types of people:

Of course, I can't go anywhere without being attracted to all things blue:

Next: I'll introduce you to my favorite shop:

Redonkulous Pug Puppy

2011-12-08T13:59:00.001-08:00

Dear Santa,

All I want is this in my stocking:

Ha ha ha ha haaaaaaaa!

Winter Decorating, on the Cheap

2011-12-05T13:30:00.001-08:00

This is one of my house's biggest windows, which faces toward the street (you can see the street in the reflection):

I wanted to put up something festive and wintery, without a particular religious bent, so anybody looking at the window could find something they liked to see.

So I came up with snowflakes and stars--some with five points, some six, and some even eight.

This is the Big Kahuna snowflake, below--purchased full price at a beautiful local boutique. At $15 a pop, however, this is an expensive way to decorate!

So I mixed in some ridiculously cheap stars and snowflakes that I made out of scraps of this and that lying around. I made some stars out of cardboard covered with aluminum foil:

Some I made out of stiff, glossy white paper, crudely decorated with glue and glitter:

And also popsicle-stick stars, spray-painted white, hot-glued together, and decorated with glitter:

In betweeen the high-end and low-end decorations are these smaller snowflakes of beads and glass and plastic, which I picked up for about $2 or $3 each, at post-holiday sales:

I put up one or two stars and snowflakes per window pane, with room to spare. After the holidays, I'll probably buy some more half-price snowflakes and such, to add in next year.

You could adapt this idea and use tree ornaments, decorated cookies, even oversize letters to spell out a seasonal message (imagine across the four panes of windows "Peace," "Love," "Joy," and "Family"). High-, medium-, or low-end, the effect is terrific!

Winter Decorating, for Free

2011-12-04T09:01:00.001-08:00

A few days ago, the city trimmed back the trees at the edge of our property that were too close to the high-power lines. I salvaged some of the branches, plunked them in a big glass vase, and brought them inside.

But they looked a little bare, so I scavenged around the house for something sparkly and winter-y to dress them up.

I found my answer in my closet: my costume jewelry!

Picking out everything that was silvery or pearl-colored, I clipped old earrings from the 1980s on the branches:

I threaded lockets over slender twigs:

And pinned brooches right onto the skinnier twigs:

Remember when big, huge brooches--often in starburst patterns--were all the rage? Yeah, I still have mine. They were too pretty to give away, and look how wonderful they look on the bare branches:

Some of the jewelry belonged to my mother and to her mother, too:

Some was made for me by my daughters when they were very young:

The silver, five-pointed star brooch is one I found in a pile of discarded stuff in my neighborhood:

I love how this look came together quickly and didn't cost me a single penny to create.

Sometimes the prettiest holiday decorations are right under your nose.

And when they're free, it's all the more reason to be merry!

Eating My Way Across New Zealand

2011-12-03T23:40:00.000-08:00

When I visit other countries, I love to look at their grocery stores or small markets. The way other places package food is always intriguing:

The putting-together of flavors that one might not expect:

Even the names of things differs ("caster" sugar is what we call "superfine" here in the United States):

But the best part, by far, is eating in foreign countries! I love getting a sense for what's different, what's comfortingly the same. Haute cuisine or street food, it's all wonderful. So wonderful, in fact, that I came back from New Zealand with five extra pounds on me! The extra baggage was worth it, because the food and wine were terrific.

Here are some of my favorite food and beverage highlights:

Sheep outnumber people in New Zealand by about 7-to-1, or 9-to-1, depending on the source you consult. So, naturally, lamb dishes abound. We enjoyed lamb in a Thai salad:
...on a Ciabatta-like bread with excellent French Fries:

...and in succulent chops:

With so much coastline, the country also excels in fish dishes. We had salmon:

Ahi tuna:

Sea bass, I think?:

I don't eat shellfish, but my table mates did:
This was my appetizer one night--a perfectly cooked piece of Blue Cod. (I picked off the one shrimp and handed it to a friend):
I apologize for the unappetizing colors of this photo, below--it was shot in very low light next to a crackling fire. The fish was a new one to me--"gurnard"--deliciously mild and firm. The yummy sauce for it was served in a cleaned-out mussel shell. The sauce was so good, I asked for seconds!
New Zealand's food has many British references. In a little food emporium, we were swept away by the intoxicating aroma of chutney being jarred in the tiny kitchen:

Brit-style chops and wonderful roast chicken are easy to find:
Luckily for a greens-loving L.A. gal like me, Kiwi restaurants have lots of salads, filled with a variety of fresh, lively ingredients:

I encountered excellent vegetarian quiches:
And many sweet potato dishes, from soups...
...to these unusual sweet-potato balls, served as an appetizer. "Kumara," which is the Maori word for "sweet potato," pops up a lot in New Zealand cuisine.

Of course, the British influence in Kiwi cuisine shows up in the ever-present tea. Thank goodness for afternoon tea! I enjoyed it in a girly-girly tea shop, served with Devon cream, scones, and jam:
I found things for tea every place we stayed, from posh resort to the humblest of motels. Even in the New Zealand version of Motel 6, upon checking in, we were asked if we wanted a little bottle of "full" or "trim" milk to take back to our room:
High in a mountain pass, our hiking group slogged through the rain, and we were delighted when we were ushered into a tidy little two-room shack and introduced to "Gumboot Tea"--strong, black tea served straight up. Marvelous for chasing away the chills:

We had tea on the beach while waiting for penguins to show up:

And I had tea all by myself in the beautiful Lake Moeraki Lodge overlooking a river, where my company was two gorgeous white-quartz stones I picked up from a beach:
One night The Hubby and I ate at a very swanky restaurant in Blenheim--you know the kind, with dramatic lighting, sweeping glass windows, and verrrry modern furnishings? I was tickled to see that off in an alcove was a trove of grandmothery teacups and saucers:
Because they do tea every afternoon. Adorable.

Kiwis are awful at one thing: drip coffee. Seriously, I don't think I got a single good cup of drip coffee the whole time I was there--not in the cities or the country, not from a fancy hotel or from a snack bar.

But they do barrista-style drinks beautifully! Almost every restaurant--from sandwich shop to steak house--has a machine like this behind the counter, churning out delicious coffee drinks:
I learned to order a "Flat White," which is basically a latte with less foam than usual:

For some reason, almost every town of any size--and certainly every city--has a sweets shop selling fudge and something hideous-looking called "Lolly Cake." It seems to be a log of fudge studded with colored marshmallows, then cut in slices:
We stayed clear of that and confined ourselves to one small square of Creme Brulee-flavored fudge, which was spectacular:
New Zealand is famous for its wines, especially its white wines. We had fun doing several wine tastings:
In the middle of one wine area was a small chocolate factory and gift shop. The chocolates were made entirely by hand, and they looked so beautiful through the viewing window:

Interestingly enough, they'd never heard of Salted Caramels. The ladies in the gift shop were intrigued; maybe they'll get the word to the chef to add them to the lineup?

Several times we encountered "Hokey Pokey." It seems to be Kiwi for "caramel," but I'm not sure....

In all but the very swankiest restaurants, our silverware was rolled tightly in a paper napkin, like this:

And water was put down without our asking for it (yay!), usually out of a glass bottle, like these:

At one winery, we were served the most attractive food of the entire trip. The dish was called something like "the winery platter," and it had the most intriguing, colorful, varied bits of yumminess all crowded together on a big, white china platter. One platter fed two people:

There were pickled vegetables and herbed almonds:

Cold, marinated carrots:

Goat cheese with Balsamic reduction. Sun-dried tomatoes. Fresh dill. Cold, poached salmon:

Black olives, Kalamata olives, pickled onions, cornichons, and that black thing in the middle is--believe it or not--a whole, pickled walnut. I was skeptical, but it was delicious! Tender and moist, it tasted a bit like a black olive:

Of course the best part of a meal for me is dessert, and here are some of my favorites from the trip. Fresh, hot muffins baked in folded papers, from a little train station in Springfield:

Quenelles of vanilla cream alongside a cake in a pool of caramel:

Several versions of Sticky Toffee Pudding:

The most magnificent strawberries and cream I've ever eaten:

A simple dish of vanilla ice cream, enhanced by a delicate rectangle of praline, thin as glass:

This was a mashup of several nights' desserts, creatively reinvented by the chef of the hotel where we stayed near Fox Glacier. He/she took leftover brownies and layered them together with raspberry jelly, whipped cream, and vanilla ice cream to make a sinful Trifle:

A chocolate mousse:

Out on the trail, dessert was often just a humble bar cookie. But oh! were they good. This one featured coconut flakes, chopped bits of dried apricot, and sunflower seeds:

And at the end of a long, hard hike, this is a beautiful sight:

There's nothing quite like watching a turquoise river tumble past green meadows dotted with happy cows while nursing a cold drink...
...with your toes in the cool water:

Because when this is your backdrop...

...everything tastes unbelievably wonderful.

New Zealand Signs

2011-11-27T16:00:00.000-08:00

When I travel, I love to take photos of signs. Some grab me because of the graphics; some because of the funny typos. Some signs have a way of summing up the nature of a country.

Without any more blather, here are some of my favorite signs from my recent trip to New Zealand; I hope you get a kick out of them.

The "Occupy" movement has made its way Down Under:

A chocolate shop with wheels in Wellington's harbor area:

Funny little stickers underfoot announcing a Halloween party (yes, they do celebrate Halloween in NZ, but it's not yet the over-the-top holiday it is here):

A gravestone from 1896 in Wellington's cemetery. The headstones of babies always get to me:

A bookstore in Wellington:

Metal plaque on a gate near Wellington's harbor:

The apron on an employee from the southernmost chocolate factory in the world (the plant is in the southern part of South Island):

*Sigh.* Why are some of the most beautiful buildings in the world pressed into service as American fast-food joints?:

A helpful sign on our rental car. Every time he slid into the driver's seat, The Hubby said out loud, "Keep left!" to help him remember how to drive there, where it's all on the "wrong" side of the road:

This road sign cracked us up. Sometimes it would be all by itself, like this:

...and sometimes it would have a little more explanation, like this:

At lunch one day, I noticed some silly copy on the side of my Diet Coke can (look at the red words):

This is a bar mat, on the counter of a bar in Collingwood. "Tui" is both the name of this bird, and a popular beer:

Turns out "Tinky" is the guy in the back of this dive that makes the meat pies:

In a grocery store in Blenheim, I was amused by the signs with different names for things. This is their granola bar section:

This shortening of the word "vegetables" actually comes in quite handy. Say it out loud a few times, and you'll get used to it quickly!:

Shopping carts are "trolleys":

Cookies are, of course, "biscuits." But what made me smile is the chocolate biscuits have their own signage (plain biscuits are farther down the aisle):

Some ketchup is labeled "ketchup," and some is "tomato sauce" but they are almost indistinguishable:

These are "jandals"--a mashup of "Japanese" and "sandals":

I guess in the States this sign would read "canned milk," but I prefer the NZ version:

In a garden shop in Blenheim, I was amused by the different names for veges (see how handy the word is?). This is the word for "bell peppers":

This is what they call Swiss Chard:

Sounds almost the same as "Bok Choy":

I saw this from afar and said, "Oh, that's gonna be called 'aubergine'!" Nope. Just "eggplant":

This sign got me all excited. But alas, kiwis are nocturnal birds. We never saw one on the road, or anywhere else, for that matter:

New Zealand is famous for its wineries. I practically drank my way across South Island. (I had a glass of wine every night. But for me, that's a lot!) This was one of my favorite labels, simply because of the look of it:

This was the view from our lunch table at The Store, a fabulous seaside restaurant near Ohau. You take the numbered block to your table, and a staffer brings your food and drink:

Also near Ohau was this sign. I find it amazing, because in the Los Angeles area, wild abalone (which New Zealanders call "Paua") hasn't been commercially available for, like, 40 years:

Kiwis are very protective of their animals:

Sugar packets in a motel in Kaikura:

A great sign for a beer-brewing company, featuring the Moa, an extinct, flightless--and huge!--bird:

More Moa-ness:

It turns out that the guy who put up these tongue-in-cheek signs and the statue of the Moa is the grandfather of our guide on Fox Glacier. Small world!

A"short black" = espresso. A "long black" = espresso with a lot of hot water added. A "flat white" = a cappuccino, but with less foam (so therefore, "flat"). A "fluffy" is a hot, milk-based drink for children:

In Christchurch, which suffered a devastating earthquake last February, we visited the hard-hit center of the city. Entire blocks are behind chain-link fence as engineers painstakingly pull down buildings beyond salvage, brick by brick.

Many establishments had spray-painted signs on their front doors, understandable to the rescue professionals and engineers, perhaps, but not to us:

Outside the off-limits area, there are still plenty of locked-up stores. Through the windows of a men's store, we could see folded shirts, still in their plastic sleeves, and dressed mannikins, all knocked down:

Are the folks who stuck up this sign opportunistic bloodsuckers? Funny promoters? Savvy business folks? You decide:

Natural disasters are part of the landscape. When hiking "in the bush," we always walked a bit faster past the areas with signs like this:

The New Zealand All Blacks recently won the Rugby World Cup--a very big deal! In celebration, a seafood restaurant in Kaikoura repainted its usually-red lobster:

A local high-schooler designed this mom-and-child-friendly sign I spotted in Hokitika:

Also in Hokitika, a sweets shop had these for sale. Why is this candy called "pigs"? I have no idea:

One of our traveling companions loved ordering Ginger Beer whenever he could. Some of the label graphics were very handsome:

In Hokitika, I spotted a pug. Not a live one, but on a poster:

I went bonkers over the beautiful circular and oval rocks on Bruce's Beach, some of which seemed to be painted with letters like little, natural signs. I saw a bajillion letter "O's":

I also found the letter "K":

and a lower-case "f":

This could be an "I" or a lower-case "l":

and this is clearly the letter "x":

On another beach, we came across signs of beachgoers past:

Folks signed a rock, then piled them up on this boulder:

In the jade shops lining the streets of Hokitika, this gorgeous chunk of nephrite jade, about the size of a small dog, lay resting underneath a fairly unnecessary sign that read "Security Camera in Operation."

No, really?:

One of the highlights of our trip was hiking up to Fox Glacier and walking with crampons on our boots around its ethereal, blue/white beauty. On the way up, we encountered these sobering signs:

Back at a restaurant near the glacier on Lake Matheson, I spotted these wonderful, vintage tins:

In the same restaurant, this wall art looked like signage:

Another exclamation sign. This one warned that only one person at a time could be on a footbridge:

Why? Maybe because this is what the footbridge looked like:

Yeah, that'd do it!

Here's another serious sign. "1080" is the common name for a poison laid out to help reduce the out-of-control possum population on the islands:

We hiked through temperate rain forests that get 20 feet of rain per year. That's a lot! At the end of the day, this was a welcome sign at the Lake Moeraki Wilderness Lodge:

It's a special room with a heater set on "low" and a fan to recirculate the air, so boots dry out slowly overnight:

This amusing sign caught my eye near a visitor's center. The center's boardwalk was a poor place to ride a bike:

I love the simplicity and artistry of this weather vane sign atop the Hard Antler Cafe and Bar:

No matter how carefully one tries, typos happen. The mountains here apparently "inspried" fear:

Kiwis display some of their national sense of humor in their signage. Here's a car for rent:

A car advertising a wildlife park:

At a winery, this small wine silo was known as "Caroline":

At the same winery, a sign warned guests away from an off-limits area:

And lastly, this sign describing the delicious desserts at a lakeside restaurant:

Next up: New Zealand food!

Corn Muffin Madeleines and Homemade Chili

2011-11-23T08:21:00.000-08:00

A few days ago, it was my turn to feed my Book Club. The day was rainy and cold, so I decided to make chili and cornbread. I like a hearty, slightly rough cornbread; none of that poofy, cake-like cornbread for me! (See both recipes, below.)

Instead of baking the normal 9x9 pan, I thought it would be fun to try making corn muffin madeleines.

This is a madeleine pan. Traditionally used to turn out delectable little cake-like cookies, the shell-shaped pan can also produce other bite-sized goodies. Any quickbread with a cake-like consistency, such as gingerbread, banana bread, or--in my case, cornbread--works well in this pan:

Each mold produces a cake or muffin of about three bites' worth:

But all those little ridges and bits in the pan can make it difficult to pry the madeleine out in one piece. To make sure the pan releases its bounty, I hit it with a good dose of vegetable spray:

Secret Weapon #1 for making madeleines: Suspend the pan over the kitchen sink (so you don't accidentally coat your counters or floors with a fine coat of oil). Holding the pan at one end, spray it thoroughly once, then turn it 180 degrees and spray it again. That makes sure you've coated every nook and cranny of the mold.

Fill each cup about 2/3 full of your batter. Don't worry if there's a little drip over the side. Just wipe it up with your finger:

Because the molds are small, the madeleines bake up pretty quickly--maybe 8 to 10 minutes or so, depending on your recipe.

You can tell when your madeleines are done because if you touch one gently, it will spring back a bit. Also, it should have just a bit of a browned edge at the thinnest part:

When they're golden with a tiny bit of a brown edge, pull the pan out of the oven and place it on a wire rack to cool a bit--maybe five minutes or so:

Secret Weapon #2 for making madeleines: Don't attempt to remove the cakes from the mold until you've let them cool a few minutes. Then--and only then--use a slim knife or spatula with a rounded (not pointed) edge and gently loosen the sides and the butt end (that's the end opposite the scallops) a little bit:

Loosening the butt end

I've found out the hard way that a pointed knife tends to tear into the madeleine. A round-tipped knife helps prevent this.

Loosening the sides

In my kitchen, the perfect tool for the job is my "Juli" knife, the sole remaining member of a fork-knife-spoon set of child-sized cutlery that my Nana had engraved with my name, then gave me when I was a tyke. Unfortunately, when I wasn't using them for eating, I was digging with them in my mom's garden. That's how I lost both the spoon and fork. (The knife didn't make a good digging tool, so it escaped that horrible fate.)

Somewhere in the dirt in Dayton, Ohio, the mates to this knife are hiding:

Oh, how I treasure this one, remaining piece!:

Anyhow, take your time gently loosen each madeleine, then tip them on their side and let them continue to cool in the pan:

Or if, like me, you only have one pan and you need to use it right away for the next batch, you can turn the madeleines out onto the rack as they continue to cool:

Even with all that preliminary spraying, the pan will have a lot of little bits clinging to it after you turn out the cakes:

Secret Weapon #3 for making madeleines: Resist the temptation to just spray the heck out of the pan and dump in your second batch of batter. You'll regret it! Take the time to wash and thoroughly dry out the pan before you prep it for the second batch, and you'll pop out perfect madeleines until the last dab of batter is all used up.

You'll end up with tasty and visually appealing little bites:

The corn muffin madeleines have just a hint of a shine to them, which adds to their visual appeal:

They are the perfect accompaniment to a hearty bowl of chili or soup on a cold winter's day:

As for the chili, I made a double batch so I had enough for all the ladies in Book Club as well as my some for my use. If you're going to the trouble of cooking from scratch, making a double batch of whatever-it-is just makes sense. It's no extra trouble to double most recipes, and then you can freeze half to use another day, when you don't feel like cooking.

But, when you make a double batch of anything like soup or stew or chili, that's a HUGE amount of dense, hot food to ask your fridge to cool. Putting the pot directly in your fridge can raise the internal temperature to unsafe levels.

The solution? An ice bath!

Put some cold water and ice in your sink. Gently lower the hot--but not boiling hot--pot into the ice bath, and about every five or so minutes, give the pot's contents a stir. (This cools down the food quicker.) After about 20 or so minutes, the entire pot is ready to pop in the fridge:

Extra added bonus: after cooling a pot like this in an ice bath, you can safely place it right on top of a plastic-wrapped, ready-made pizza crust, like you see above. And--full disclosure for those who love to see what's inside other people's fridges (I sure do!)--that's a bottle of Pom juice next to the chili, and on the shelf above, nonfat plain yogurt, Bombay Sapphire Gin, and a plastic quart container with home-made soup stock.

Corn Muffin Madeleines
3/4 C. all-purpose flour
1 C. cornmeal
1/4 C. wheat germ
1/4 C. granulated sugar
1.5 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. ground mace
1 C. milk
3-4 Tbsp. butter or margarine, melted
2 eggs, well beaten
vegetable cooking spray

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

In a large mixing bowl, stir together dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, combine milk, butter, and beaten eggs. Combine dry and wet ingredients quickly (do not overmix, or the cornbread will be tough, not tender).

Thoroughly coat a 9x9 or 8x8 baking pan (or a madeleine mold) with cooking spray. Pour batter into the baking pan. (If using madeleine molds, fill each cup about 2/3 full.) The baking pan will take about 20 minutes; the madeleines will be ready in 8 to 10 minutes. Cornbread is done when it is golden and the edges are just beginning to turn brown. Remove from oven and cool slightly before running a rounded-tip knife around the edges of the pan or mold to release the cornbread. When partially cooled, turn out and serve immediately or allow to cool completely, then store in an airtight container in the fridge.

Produces one square pan of cornbread, or about 3 dozen madeleines.

Homemade Chili
1 pound lean ground beef or ground turkey
1 large onion, chopped (about 1 cup)
2 12-oz. cans chopped or diced tomatoes (not drained)
16 oz. canned tomato sauce
3 tsp. chili powder (or more, to taste)
1-2 tsp. granulated sugar (optional)
scant teaspoon of salt
1/4 tsp. cayenne red pepper
1/4 tsp. paprika
3 15-oz. cans beans (drained) (I like to use a combination of kidney, black, pinto, and/or cannelini--basically whatever is in the cupboard)

In a large soup pot, cook and stir the ground meat and onion until the meat is no longer pink and the onion is tender. Drain off any fat (there will be very little, if any). Stir in remaining ingredients except beans.

Heat to boiling. Reduce heat; cover and simmer 2 hours, stirring occasionally. (Or cook uncovered, about 45 minutes.) Stir in beans; heat through and serve immediately (or cool, using ice-bath method described above).

Makes 4 or 5 servings. Recipe can be doubled. Chili always seems to taste better the second--or even third--day, so you can make this recipe ahead.

Small-Business Saturday

2011-11-22T11:52:00.000-08:00

Is the upcoming American mania to shop (Black Friday, Black Thursday, Online Monday) freaking you out?

photo: Jacques Zammit

Would you rather just stay home and eat leftover pumpkin pie? I don't blame you.

photo: SanFranAnnie

Instead of pushing your way through crazed crowds at the mall, here's a small, sane idea:

It's called "Small Business Saturday," and it's happening all across the U.S. the Saturday after Thanksgiving. American Express is behind it, but don't let that corporate giant keep you from supporting your local little stores.

On November 26, shop (for yourself or somebody on your gift list) at one or two local, independent stores. Support the businesses in your community that make it special to you.

If you do this little thing, you'll be joining a nationwide movement in its second year.

Our little mom-and-pop stores, with their unique local feel, are what make our communities unique and wonderful.

photo: Leo Reynolds

So, go buy a pack of batteries at the local little hardware store. Drop in for a cup of cocoa or java at that hole-in-the-wall coffee joint that is decidedly NOT You-Know-Whobucks. Buy a book for a deserving person from that cute gift shop you've been meaning to check out.

Photo: Randy Pertiet

You and I, and all of us together in this lovely land, could make this holiday season merry for our small merchants, who are the backbone of our economy.

As it says on the Small Business Saturday web page, "When we all shop small, it will be huge."