Town and Country Mom

Off the Beaten Path

2012-05-23T21:14:00.000-04:00

Oh, hello there.

I bet you thought I'd gone for good this time. Nope. Not yet. I figured that I write on average about 1,500 words a day for work, which, although not a grueling pace, is still quite a few words to write. Lately, I haven't had too many left.

I have been mulling around the idea of destination. More accurately, I'm thinking about what can be discovered on the way. When our children were little, and we were making regular road trips to visit the grandparents, the Mister and I would routinely have a little debate about taking the back roads for at least part of each trip. I was having none. of. that. I insisted on our fine Interstate Highway System. I identified specific Chic Fil As and Cracker Barrels as acceptable places to stop to eat. When you are traveling with small children, you want clean restrooms and familiar food, in that order. Where's your sense of adventure? the Mister would ask. Listen, Bud, I've got all the adventure I need sitting right behind me in car seats. We can take the back roads when we're old.

not ours, but could pass for one of them

We're traveling on back roads more and more frequently these days. I like it. It's not the fastest, and, honestly, sometimes it's not the best, but it's where the stories are.

A few months ago, the Mister and I were headed to the mountains for a weekend with friends. The rain poured and drizzled and spat both days, and we had a marvelous time, talking by the fire, walking in the woods, antiquing, and, of course, breaking bread together. The wonder of that weekend, though, actually began on the way, when the Mister and I decided to take a different route, off the beaten path.

Instead of taking I-26 straight up the mountain from the outside of Greenville to Asheville (admittedly, we aren't exactly on the Beltway, here), we headed north via a small town named Travelers Rest, South Carolina. Its name is far more quaint than its history. Tucked into the picturesque region known as South Carolina's "Dark Corner," the little burg was known for the drunken duels between the "drovers" who--on horseback--drove the cattle and pigs to market in either Greenville or Asheville. Later, the area became infamous for its moonshine making and the kind of high-spirited antics that accompany that particular line of work. Its reputation grew as a mean place, which I thought was a shame since it had such a nice name.

I'm happy to report that things are looking up in Travelers Rest. Not too many years ago, that modern miracle known as the public-private partnership took place, and the bankers and the bureaucrats and the conservationists got together with the Greenville Hospital System and, under the auspices of the Rails to Trails program, put together one of the topnotch cycling-walking-running trails in the country, and it's still growing, and guess what? It goes right through Travelers Rest, and all those cyclists and walkers and runners stop and eat lunch and shop. And I suspect some of them started coming back for dinner. And a few of them even started buying property for weekend getaways. And Travelers Rest widened its Main Street and planted flowers and bricked its crosswalks, and more people came, and more restaurants and shops opened. And, well.

So, the Mister and I stopped for lunch. The cold January rain was pouring down, pouring. It was after two, and the restaurant we were aiming for looked dark. No cars in the lot, and it goes without saying that the bike racks were empty. The Mister pushed on the old door, and, surprisingly, it gave, and in we walked to the Cafe at Williams Hardware, which is the name of the restaurant, which is named after the building that houses it. Y'all open? the Mister calls out in his best Southern drawl, which is a stretch for him. Poor thing. We sure are, hon. Come on in out of that rain. Now, naturally, we are the only fools, er, patrons out on a cold January, looking for lunch at almost three o'clock, but our hostess welcomes us with a warm smile. She advises us of the specials as we drip on the timeworn heart pine floors.

We decide on the BLT and broccoli salad. She seats us by a window that looks out on the aforementioned trail and a spacious screened porch for warm weather dining. She pours some coffee, and she stays to chat for a minute about the weather, about the cafe (she and her sister own it), about the food (fresh, locally sourced, people won't have it any other way, and they shouldn't), about the roads and where the cell phone service cuts out in the gorges (y'all be careful), and then, as in the South, it often does, the topic veered off onto where we live, where we went to school, and that's where she went to school, and I bet y'all know ___, and, of course, we don't know her personally, but we know her cousin) and that's when the plates arrive, and they are fine. The bacon is as thick as a pork chop, and the lettuce is crisp, the avocado is mellow, and the homemade mayonnaise is lemon-y and smooth.

Of course, we noticed the dessert counter on the way to our table. In-house, homemade cakes--red velvet, chocolate, caramel, hummingbird, and some sort of berry-goat cheese tart, which I might've ordered if it hadn't been raining so hard. We split the caramel. And we had another cup of coffee.

It was growing dark, and we had an hour's drive through the mountains left. We hated to leave, but we'll stop in again. We said we'd be on bikes or foot the next time, so we need to make good on that promise.

The McCarrell Sisters, proprietors of The Cafe at Williams Hardware

If you happen to be barreling down I-26, somewhere near Asheville, don't be shy about getting off the Interstate, and exploring some of the beautiful back roads. And, if you're anywhere near Travelers Rest, then by all means do stop and sit a spell at the Cafe at Williams Hardware.

I bet the porch is open now.

T-t-t-tick, t-t-t-tock.

2012-04-22T03:33:00.000-04:00

Well, I see Blogger finally made good on its threats to switch to a new format, and I am still figuring it all out. Serves me right for not posting in such a long time. Seeing as my younger son, "Middle," is out on his first date, and I'm waiting up for him, I've got a while to noodle around with the new format.

Our older son, "Big," turned 20 this past week. 20. 20! And, the younger, as I mentioned, is on his first date tonight, which happens to be prom.

And suddenly, I am 108 years old. Really. How does this happen? Of course, when I am in my rational mind, I realize that I have acknowledged for quite some time that I am getting older. A few gray hairs were the harbingers of my transformation. Suddenly (okay, more like insidiously), my chin is lower, my reading glasses are never farther than arms' length away, and people seem to mumble more than they used to. Well, so what? Didn't I just say that I knew I was getting older? Here's the deal, though, it's one thing to know it and quite another to see it.

I remember the first time I heard that a child I once babysat was getting married. I was probably 25 at the time. Click went my brain: I'm getting older. Time is passing. Soon, I had my own children sleeping through the night, walking, making sentences, kicking balls, working on science projects, studying for AP courses, filling out college applications. Click.Click.Click. Now, I'm the one giving encouraging smiles when I see young mothers struggling to get chubby toddler legs through the openings on the child seat in the grocery cart. A few days ago I was in Target, and I couldn't remember the last time I'd been asked if we could go to the toy department--just to look, Mama. For a minute or two, my throat hurt hard and my eyes filled, not with regret but with such. deep. longing.

And now, the younger son, a sophomore in high school taking a junior to prom. Prom!

What a huge event that has become! Nowadays, Prom begins with "the ask" sometimes months ahead of time. Then, there are pictures beforehand, dinner at a restaurant or club, a rented bus to the prom site, a rented bus to an amusement center for the "after Prom" and then back to the club and to homes for "after after" parties.

Really, I can't even think what it will be like when it's Little's turn. Thankfully, that's years away. Click. Years and years. Click.

So, I'm up late tonight. The one who gave me most of my laugh lines has already turned in and is softly snoring.

Me? I'll stay up a while later. I need to figure out how the new Blogger works. And, maybe my throat hurts a little.

Besides, it's raining here.

Even to your old age and gray hairs
I am He, I am He who will sustain you.
I have made you and I will carry you;
I will sustain you and I will rescue you.
--Isaiah 46:4

Eggs-asperated!

2012-04-04T00:51:00.001-04:00

I love silhouettes. I collect them in a small way, and when I saw these eggs pinned on that tool of the Devil that we call Pinterest, I knew that they would be the perfect complement to my Easter table. I envisioned painting the eggs a soft navy, revealing an ivory rabbit or duck.

So, I found some classic (and free) springtime silhouettes and downloaded them. I bought some adhesive stencil paper, and I bought a sharp cutting tool. I painstakingly traced and cut my silhouettes and carefully adhered them to the eggs. Then I painted and waited. When the paint was dry, I carefully peeled off the silhouettes--and most of the surrounding paint, leaving me with silhouettes that more closely resembled a Rorschach example than anything else. Drat. Wasted time and disappointment. I'm not giving up, of course. I plan to find some wooden eggs on sale after Easter, and try again next year. In the meantime, I'm happily using the blue-and-white eggs that I made last year. So, here's a post that explains how to make these delights, in case you missed it. It's not too late!

I don't particularly think of myself as the crafty type. I gave up using a hot glue gun more than 20 years ago. I needlepoint, but only on car trips or while at the beach. Still, every now and then--usually around a holiday, I find myself inspired to make something. This spring while noodling around at my ~~friend's~~,~~acquaintance's~~, er, design guru Eddie Ross's blog, I found the directions for making some simple, yet elegant, Easter eggs.

The eggs featured on Eddie's blog are lovely green-and-white graphic orbs, reminiscent of a Jonathan Adler print. Of course, I didn't want to copy Eddie, so since I collect Blue Willow, Canton, and blue Staffordshire, I decided to make my eggs blue and white.

This project is easy peasy, however, if you are a perfectionist, it can get a bit tedious. After about the third egg, I decided I was not a perfectionist, and that made the whole project a lot more fun!

You will need some Mod Podge, a small soft paintbrush, and some plastic eggs. I found some white ones at Hobby Lobby, a dozen on sale for 35 cents! If you can't find white eggs, then I think pale pastels would work fine.

You will also need some sharp scissors and some beautiful paper cocktail napkins. As I am rather a fiend about cocktail napkins, I found what I needed in my napkin drawer. (Please, it's not hurting anyone.)

Gather your supplies and cover your work space with some newspaper or other protective covering.

Begin by separating the napkins. Then cut the printed napkin into small (about one by one inch) diamond shapes. I found the easiest and quickest way to do this was to fold the napkin, cut a zig zag line, and then cut back again in the opposite direction. You will also want to cut a few triangles. I was able to complete three eggs from a single napkin this way.

Once your napkin is cut into diamonds, thinly apply the Mod Podge to the egg in sections.

Then, attach the diamond of paper to the egg and lightly coat the top of the paper with Mod Podge, smoothing out any wrinkles.

Tap down the edges, and apply the next diamond. I used the straight sides of triangles to edge the rims of the eggs. It would be easier to close the egg and do it as a solid form, but for some reason, I thought I wanted to be able to open my eggs. If you are using a toile or similar type design, I strongly recommend not trying to match up the design. Once the egg is covered in paper, lightly coat the entire egg (or the halves) in Mod Podge. This will provide a smoother finish. Set the egg aside to dry and begin the next egg or pour a glass of wine and watch Selling New York on HGTV.

Seriously, I finished a dozen eggs in about two hours. I love that they are a bit of a riff on transferware dishes, and I plan on using them in my Easter table setting.

I'm thinking of giving these a try, too.

Have you made any Easter crafts this spring?

How sweet it was

2012-03-19T21:53:00.001-04:00

Schedules and plans. Commitments and calendars. Deadlines. The Mister will tell you that I tend to follow the rules, micromanage, and occasionally overbook. I sync the phone calendar with the computer calendar at home and at work. I color code by family member the white board calendar in the back hall. Every now and then, though, it’s kind of nice to enjoy a little spontaneity. The Mister and I had already been out once this past week for an event, and we had the usual lacrosse practice, confirmation class, piano lesson, Scout meeting kind of week, but when a friend called “the day of” with two extra tickets to the local Children’s Museum fundraiser, I impulsively said, “yes!” The Mister and I could use a date.After all, the event was nearby. The dinner jacket and the little black dress stood at the ready in the closet. And, there would be chocolate. Local restaurants would be serving tempting and decadent chocolate appetizers and dessertsSo, I ran the afternoon carpool, and the Mister picked up a pizza for Middle and Little. We threw on our rigs, Little snapped a picture, and off we went.

If you’ve given up sugar or chocolate for Lent, then this is a good stopping point for you. Really.We started off with chocolate espresso encrusted filet mignon served with a beet mousse. Fabulous.Next, we sampled Queen’s cake, a flourless torte with a bitter orange infused something or other. Not bad.Then, our favorite, a chocolate bread pudding with Guinness caramel sauce. The renowned Carolina band, The Mighty Kicks, electrified the Poinsett Club ballroom. Chocolate with raspberries, and chocolate with strawberries tempted us, too.

Now, truly the Mister and I had a fine time, but we were home in our bed by ten because our weekend plans were even sweeter. You see Little has just turned 13, and we were hosting a slumber party!I thought a candy buffet would be a fun surprise for Little and her friends. So, I found some fun, colorful treats at the Dollar Store and Target and carefully hid them from my children, who can sniff out candy with alarming accuracy. Then, I pulled out some footed glass dishes and vases that were stashed away. I loaded the vases with mini Moon Pies, Sixlets, Sour Patch Kids, Pixie Stix, Smarties, Marshmallow Twists, and Cry Babies and arranged them on the dining room table.Little was so surprised when she came home from school and saw the display, and the girls seemed to love it! While they waited on a few late arrivals to have supper, the girls decided to take the Cry Baby challenge. Cry Babies are apparently a super sour jaw breaker-type gum, and the challenge is something along the lines of “If you can hold it in your mouth for two minutes, then you have conquered the Cry Baby!”After supper (a taco bar), the Mister and I loaded up two vehicles’ worth of girls and headed downtown where the partiers enjoyed a round of indoor mini golf, picked out matching friendship bracelets at our little shop, Go Fish, and then walked over to the park to generally squeal and giggle and revel in their cuteness, I guess. It’s been so long since I was 13, I honestly don’t remember!Did I mention that most of these girls are friends from drama class? In fact, if you are going to see The Hunger Games this weekend, then you may just spot one of them in several scenes!It’s funny, isn’t it, that even though technology has come so far, black light is still seen as soooo cool by middle schoolers?On the bridge before heading home for cupcakes, ice cream, more candy, a movie marathon, and very little sleep.

Saturday morning, we fed them doughnuts and wished them a Happy St. Patrick’s Day. By nine o’clock, they were all collected and on their way home.

And that, my friends, was pretty sweet, too!

Top o' the Morning

2012-03-17T06:00:00.002-04:00

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ in breadth, Christ in length, Christ in height,
Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.

I arise today through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity, through belief in the Threeness, through confession of the Oneness of the Creator of creation. Salvation is of the Lord. Salvation is of the Lord. Salvation is of Christ. May Thy Salvation, O Lord, be ever with us.

--excerpt from the Lorica, traditional morning prayer commonly known as the Breastplate of St. Patrick, although not attributed to him.

How $20 changed my life, well, my morning

2012-03-15T13:54:00.001-04:00

Not too long ago I was visiting at the Mister’s sister’s house in Florida. Knowing how much I like a good cup of coffee, she kindly brought me one. The coffee was rich and bright, and it was surprisingly topped with a foamy cap. Now the Mister’s sister is a thrifty gal, and I knew she hadn’t added a fancy cappuccino machine to her appliance line up, so I had to ask how she created this coffee masterpiece. She returned to the kitchen and reappeared with what she called a handheld milk frother. She found it at T.J. Maxx. Really, you just never know.

We returned to Greenville, and the search was on—TJ’s, Marshall’s, two specialty kitchen stores. Nothing. So, I began googling hand-powered milk frother. Nothing. Until I skimmed an article about using a French press coffee maker for this purpose. Ah. Success. So on my next trip to the Target, which was, of course, later that afternoon, I picked up the Bodum Travel French Press for less than 20 dollars. And, now each morning, the Mister grinds the beans and feeds the machine, while I warm a scant amount of half-and-half in the glass portion of the press. A few seconds later, I froth the milk, and it literally triples in volume. At first, this was our Saturday treat, but when I realized I was already thinking about it on Wednesday, I decided it would become a new and gracious morning tradition. We sit and sip while we read our devotions and then, some mornings, the newspaper, too. (Happily, because the frother creates such volume, we are actually consuming less half-and-half, too!) And, as a bonus, it offers an easy way to impress guests with an after-dinner coffee!

Do you have a beloved morning ritual?

Or, what’s your best $20 purchase of late?

Did someone say pie?

2012-03-10T16:46:00.001-05:00

The trend watchers have been saying for a while now that pies were the new cupcakes. These are pretty much the same people that said tea was the new coffee. Maybe more people are drinking more tea, but it doesn't seem like coffee consumption has exactly plummeted. I predict it will be the same with pie and cupcakes. People, especially little people, like cupcakes. Cupcakes are manageable. Grown-ups like cupcakes, too. Cupcakes offer portion control. Even shoppers like cupcakes. After all, cupcakes offer opportunities for accessories.

But, still. Pie.

I'm all for it. In fact, embarrassingly, I can't stop thinking about it.

A few days ago, I had the opportunity to meet cookbook author Martha Hall Foose. If you like to cook, or if you live in the South or if you are interested in sustainability and local food, then you probably know of Martha Hall Foose. The "other Martha."

She's written Screen Doors and Sweet Tea, winner of a 2009 James Beard Foundation Award. Currently on the road promoting A Southerly Course, she was in town as the guest of local magazine Edible Upcountry and the Center for Sustainability at Furman University. She was really charming and chatty, and she is much prettier and younger than she looks in her books. But I digress.

After a brisk walk through Furman's beautiful campus, my friends and I arrived at the event where MHF was signing books and chatting leisurely while earnest college students (well, they looked earnest to me) passed trays of roasted tomato canapes and bacon pralines (I know) and mini custard pies.

To say she had her audience eating out of her hand is quite the understatement. She talked about some of her favorite recipes, and she made a pie crust while she shared anecdotes from her work on the film The Help, for which she did all the food styling.

Her story of creating a chicken leg for a vegan, celiac actress who practices a "cruelty-free lifestyle" was particularly amusing.

Still, cookbook authors are pretty plentiful. And, really, how many Southern cookbooks does anyone need? Here's the thing, though, Martha Hall Foose can not only cook (with impressive experience here in the U.S. and in France), she can write. She has that whole Mississippi story-telling thing going, and she uses her incredible gift of writing to tell stories not about food but about people. So much more delicious.

Sometimes the stories are about the people that made the food or ate the food, but the best ones are about the people that inspired the food. Eudora Welty comes to mind. Welty, who lived in Jackson, Mississippi her entire life but wrote short stories and essays and novels that still resonate with readers all over the world, inspired Foose’s custard pie recipe. Turns out Miss Welty actually liked to eat some god-awful liver and curry concoction, but she inspired a custard pie.

Personally, I want to be the kind of person that could inspire a pie.

Or—even a cupcake.

Imbalanced

2012-02-27T23:48:00.001-05:00

I wish I had something great to write, dear Readers.

I write so many posts in my head, mostly while I'm driving. (At least, I'm not texting, right?)

Somehow, real life and a real job writing (even if it is kind of a writers' sweatshop) seems to edge out this place where writing is free and tamed only by my own self copy editing and your (mostly) kind comments.

Real life--lacrosse games for one, drama practice for another, and "could you put some money in my account?" for the other one--seems to take up a good bit of non-working time. And, I decided to read more.

And, I cleaned out our closet--organized it, actually.

The Mister built some really fine shelves, and I had a ball styling those. I'm terrible about remembering to take "before and after" pictures, but you would be impressed. Oh, there's other stuff, too--a little cooking, Downton Abbey, a new eyelining technique for women over 50--but, mostly there's the writing for work and the not writing for fun.

And, the not writing is not working.

2012-02-13T14:17:00.000-05:00

Is it just me? Do people decorate for Valentine’s Day? Well, I do. Not in the my-house-looks-like-a-retail-store kind of way, but more with a heart here and a dash of red there—and as the day draws closer with a little sprinkling of chocolate. Love—romantic and other kinds, too—seems worthy of celebration, especially in the bleak mid-winter.

Some will craft clever cards with paper and stamps, while others will make elaborate cookies and candies. Still others will don something sparkly and sip something bubbly. Most likely, I’ll dabble in all of the aforementioned, but mostly I’ll decorate.
A little red heart on the chest in the living room adds a touch of love.Rosebuds and ribbon serve the same purpose in the family room.And a little needlepoint hanger on the clock reminds one that it’s never too late to love.Handmade hearts from my littlest Valentines brighten up the kitchen, where nothin’ says lovin’ like well, you know. And 16-year-old wax paper and crayon hearts spread the love to the sitting area nearby.When we honeymooned at The Balsams, we found a stone fireplace in a lakeside cabin. Engraved in the granite mantel were the words, I CANNOT WARM YOU IF YOUR HEART BE COLD, which the Mister continues to quote to this day. So, to remember The Balsams and our wonderful time there, a red construction paper chain and a berry wreath.Finally, keeping all three children’s preschool and grade school artwork wasn’t realistic, but tossing out handmade Valentines was impossible. I love them.
For sentimental reasons.

How do you celebrate Valentine’s Day?

2012-01-19T22:28:00.000-05:00

You might remember that I wrote about a new editorial job here. Yes, I like it. I like it a lot. The first few weeks my brain hurt at the end of every day. I told the Mister it was like waking up and going to an office and doing the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle every day. Challenging. Enriching. But, difficult. The option to quit puzzling or set it aside was not forthcoming. New day, new puzzle.

My writing background is mostly print. I remember walking with what were then called "bluelines" to a department called typesetting. And this was when I worked for a very young, hip company. I don't think I owned a computer until I was 38, maybe. Today I work with people who have never not owned a computer; people who think in html. People who think email is archaic. You don't even want to know what they think about newspapers. I mean, and as Dave Barry would say I am not making this up, the woman across the hall from me has a poster of Justin Bieber on her door. And, I think Justin Bieber himself may have the office next to her, or maybe it's just someone who looks like him. That's probably it. I digress. Listening to State of Trance radio will do that to you; it will also make you stay on task, apparently.

I started November 1. Just before Thanksgiving I was asked if I'd be interested in taking on an additional project. Honestly, how could I say no? I mean, for one thing, I was new. New employees don't turn down projects. Secondly, it meant more money. Again, not really something people turn down. Finally, it was promised to be "quick turnaround." Silly, silly me. You see, I had forgotten that "quick turnaround," which sounds like it means "short and sweet" actually translates to "crushing deadline." It means late nights, early mornings, staying in when you want to go out. It means my family says things like "Spaghetti again?" and I say things like "Look in the dryer!"

But, kids, I'm here to tell you. I. made. it. I made it! With 18 hours to spare! And tomorrow the Mister and I are meeting some friends in the mountains.

And there will be this,

and this,

and this.

And even this.

And there will be no internet, and I will not succumb to the 3G sirens.

Then, when I return, I plan to focus some attention on this little blogging outlet of mine, and I would love to know what you'd like to hear more about. Would you do that favor for me?

Paper or plastic?

2012-01-11T23:57:00.000-05:00

I guess I'm what is known as a "late adapter."

I got this for Christmas. And I love it.

I really do. Epicurious. Urban Spoon. Gratitude. Pinterest. All at my fingertips. Not to mention news, weather, grades, music. I re-watched the last episode of Downton Abbey while Little had her piano lesson. How could you not love that?

But, a couple of years ago I got this for Christmas.

And I love it, too. In fact, I just like saying Filofax, although I don't really say it out loud ever. Today I finally got around to buying my 2012 calendar re-fill. I can't wait to take a black Uniball micro pen to that creamy, thick paper.

I've been known to sketch a floorplan or an outfit or a desktop arrangement on that lined paper.

But, of course, I'll never watch Downton Abbey on it.

Paper or plastic? I say it's not either-or. For me, it's both-and. What about you?

On the tenth day of Christmas . . .

2012-01-03T21:54:00.001-05:00

Oh, I know what some of you are thinking! Christmas? Please! That’s so 2011. Yes, I know it’s a new year, and the blogging world has in large part moved onto goals and resolutions and organizational tips. After all, most everyone is back to work or back to school. Me, I’m just coming up for air after working hard to meet several work deadlines that relentlessly came just before and after Christmas Day. Still, we managed to have a wonderful holiday, and although the decorations are packed and the thank-you notes are in the mail, we’re still celebrating and looking forward to a fabulous Twelfth Night party on January 6th. I’m sure I’ll post about that, but in the meantime, here’s a look at our holiday.

We spent the weekend before Christmas in sunny Florida, where the Mister, Middle, and Niece 3 enjoyed a nip of nog in the Mister’s parents’ log house. (Yes, the Mister’s wearing mouse ears. No, the eggnog wasn’t spiked.)

The Mister’s handsome dad enjoyed a nip of something else as we waited to see the beautiful Candlelight Processional at Epcot in Walt Disney World. The night we attended Broadway legend Chita Rivera read the story of the birth of Christ, and she was wonderful. The cast member and guest choirs joined with the Voices of Liberty to present the story in hymns and sacred carols with superb orchestral accompaniment. Attending “Candlelight” was an annual tradition when we lived in central Florida, and we were so happy to be able to return, taking the Mister’s folks for a couple of days in the park.

Little was pleased to see that she had the same size handprint as one of her favorite actresses.Middle was relieved to see that at least one other being on the planet has a larger foot than he does! Seems like old times—Big, Middle, and Little together at Disney. This was as close as I got to antiquing on this trip, which—let me tell you—was not very close! Still, I was grateful not to be stuck in our hotel room at Riverside, writing and editing like a fiend. Once home, we made cookies for Santa.

We went to church on Christmas Eve. And these three little cherubs read the Gospel story of the birth of Jesus. The church was packed—maybe about 1,200 worshippers—but no one seemed nervous reading.We wrapped presents, although some of them may not have been tagged. Personally, I think it adds to the excitement as everyone waits on me to remember whose gift is whose.

Our tradition has always been that the children wait at the top of the stairs until they hear the sleigh bells ring. Then they can come downstairs and open their stockings. This gives the Mister and me a chance to make the coffee, light the tree and the fire, put the breakfast treats in the oven, and make sure we have a camera handy. This year my dad joined them in their stair top waiting.

Stockings hold Clementines, chocolate, and generally some pretty good stuff. (Middle is not mad; he’s just determined to intentionally ruin every picture I take. He’s pretty good at it, too)

In fact, this may be the best shot I got of him this year!We don’t dress on Christmas morning, although this picture makes me want to ask Santa for a little turkey neck tuck. And all that plaid—yikes!

Clearly, we had a little clean-up to do, but for once, I did not immediately turn into sergeant-martyr mom, and just let things be. For a bit.Sausage egg casserole, biscuits, and sectioned citrus were pretty tasty. We always do crackers at Christmas breakfast. (See how beautifully Middle is ruining this picture?)

We had a fabulous Christmas dinner, if I do say so myself—rib roast, creamed spinach, roasted grape tomatoes, and garlic mashed potatoes. I didn’t take any pictures until I served dessert, red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting.

A few hours after dinner, we somehow managed to roll ourselves to our dear friends the R’s home for another dessert! It’s our Christmas tradition to visit their beautiful home on Christmas night, and it is always great fun. This year their lovely daughter remembered when she was taller than both her pals—but not any more. And for dessert?

She just whipped up some Grand Marnier creme brulee.

And that’s how we celebrated Christmas Day.

Reduce, Reuse, Re-wreath

2011-12-14T01:12:00.001-05:00

Thanks for all the birthday wishes! I have decided I am kicking off the Year of Jubilee as I begin to celebrate the big 50. Crow's feet shall henceforth be known as laugh lines; and aches and pains attributed to a well-spent youth. I will continue to color and highlight my hair, whiten my teeth, pass on the simple carbs, and walk as much as I can, but I've come to terms with the fact that no one is going to mistake me for a young woman. And that's okay, I had my time to sparkle; now it's my time to glow.

I still like a little sparkle around the house, however. (And on my ears, occasionally, of course.) And, surely, everyone who's 50 has learned that there is no sense in wasting time re-inventing the wheel, or wreath, in this case. The wreaths at the T and C House were looking a little care worn.

It was time for an update, but I wasn't sure what I wanted. For years, I've been a stickler--green wreaths, red bows, white candles. Maybe, just maybe, you could still be a respectable person if you used plaid bows. Gold? Clearly, a person that would decorate outside with gold bows, well, I don't think I have to tell you what's going on inside that house! Why, it's probably just full of things like boxed cake mixes and People magazines and paper napkins! (Clearly, I cannot have coffee after four in the afternoon. None of this will be funny in the morning.) Live greens are great, but in our weather, they tend to look a little worse for wear after a week or two. A wide range of good-looking faux greens are available, but I wasn't sure what I wanted--white pine, mixed evergreens, boxwood? (Well, actually, I wanted boxwood, but the preserved boxwood doesn't last more than one season, and the plastic boxwood doesn't hold up that well either. And I don't have enough real boxwood to make a single fresh wreath, and I need nine!) And then, I happened to click on one of my favorite blogs Abnormally Normal, where the hilarious Mom on the Run had decided to be a little crafty. She took her inspiration from the ubiquitous Pottery Barn, and I took mine from her.

So, after a quick stop at Target, I was in business transforming my scraggly greens into shiny red and silver-enhanced wreaths. They still need to be replaced, but for about $20 spent on shatterproof ornaments and three hours of my time, I was able to keep them looking good for at least one more season.

I'm sure there's a metaphor in there somewhere, but I'm not going to think about that right now.

It's time to apply my wrinkle cream.

I Pine for You

2011-12-07T23:36:00.001-05:00

I pine for you and balsam, too! Have you seen that corny saying before? I remember when as a child the light bulb came on, and I finally understood the sentiment I had seen stitched on the tiny sachets of fir needles sold in tourist traps from North Carolina to Maine. Although I can’t say I’ve “bawled” about it, I have pined for the scent of fresh-cut greens each Christmas season.Every year, the Mister and I and the children have had at least one Frasier fir in our house for the holidays. The past several years, we’ve made a quick day trip to Cedar Mountain, North Carolina, to cut our tree ourselves. It’s hard to get fresher than that, right? Once home, the Mister always slices an inch or two off the bottom of the trunk before plunging the tree in water. He trims it a bit here and there, and I bring the trimmings inside to put in bowls and various containers throughout the house. Of course, I love how the fresh greens look, but it is that crisp evergreen fragrance that I hope to capture. Never happens. Until now, that is. Yes, this year, our house finally has the clean scent of pine thanks to Thymes Frasier Fir diffuser. Last year, someone gave me a small Frasier Fir candle, and I enjoyed it so much, burning it dangerously low. This year I decided to try the Thymes diffuser, and I could not be more pleased. I’m pretty particular about scents; I really can’t bear anything cloying or harsh. The Thymes products are not inexpensive, but I definitely think they are worth the cost. You can see all the options here.

I chose the pinecone style diffuser pictured above, which is perfectly unobtrusive tucked behind a lamp on a living room side table. I love coming downstairs in the morning or walking into the house after a long day to be greeted by such a fresh, Christmas-y fragrance!

I have received no compensation for this post, just the pleasure of sharing my find.

Be sure to read all about Reggie Darling’s favorite potpourri here. I can’t wait to try it! Do you have a favorite Christmas scent?

A Thing or Two

2011-12-05T00:17:00.000-05:00

There's no denying it now. In one week--one week!--I will turn 50. No matter what kind of care I have or haven't taken of myself, no matter how strong or weak the gene pool from which I sprang, I think it's safe to say I've reached midlife. Really. I just don't see myself going on past 100.

And yet, I still have some dreams and goals to accomplish, which means the next 20 or 30 years are chock full of potential. The bad news, of course, is that as we age (oh, yes, it pains me to say it), certain things decline or diminish. Memory, for instance.

In 50 years, I've learned a thing or two. And my intent is to write some of those tidbits down this week. I want to be able to re-read them in case I can't remember them later. If any of them are of help to you, dear readers, then so much the better. For those of you in the "ohmygosh I can't even imagine turning (shudder) 50" camp, let me just say neither could I. For those of you who have blazed the trail already, I offer a million thanks for your generosity in sharing a slice of your journey. And now, a thing or two.

An hour of sleep before midnight is worth two afterward. The corollary of this is that a productive hour before 7 am is worth two later in the day.

Drugstore make-up really is just as good as department store make-up. Almost always.

Expensive hair products, on the other hand, are usually really better.

Don't skimp on towels, sheets, or toilet paper.

Most people, including your spouse most of the time, usually just want to hear the bullet points. Only one or two dear friends want the whole narrative.

Expecting someone, especially a man, to read your mind is an unrealistic expectation. To pout or punish him when he is unable to do the impossible sets up a most unsatisfying cycle of disappointment. Communicating clearly and kindly will enhance your relationship far more.

No one can remember everyone's name. Avoid the awkwardness. Apologize for forgetting a name, and re-introduce yourself right away.

That's all for tonight. More to come.

The longest post ever!

2011-12-03T12:28:00.001-05:00

So, here we are, another December. Hard to believe. My posts here have been far fewer than I would like, but, of course, real life takes precedence.

Part of my motivation for blogging has been to create some sort of journal or diary, really just for my own benefit, so with that in mind, please bear with me in this long, long post as I recount a few highlights of this fall.

Everyone at the T&C house enjoyed another smashing Spirit Week. (You can read our community’s history of this terrific tradition here.) We painted to raise money. Of course, I got to drink wine and talk with other moms while creating this, um, masterpiece, which now proudly hangs in our garage! We met friends and ate barbecue to raise money.One of us even dressed up every day to raise money. (Really, you haven’t lived until you’ve stood in the women’s section of the local Good Will and had to convince your 6’2” son that he couldn’t fit a size 4 skirt, that he was a solid 14. Thankfully the so-called “Gender Bender” day occurs only once a year!)And, when this crazy week was over, and the totals were announced at half-time of the Big Game, our high school students had raised more than $140,000 in a week’s time! That’s a lot of car washes, silent auctions, and class calls, my friends! The money was donated to the local Ronald McDonald House and to St. Anthony’s school for inner city kids.

School spirit continued to soar as we celebrated Clemson’s Homecoming. (Yes, this was back when our season looked so promising. Happily, we did pull out the ACC championship!) I guess you could say we were looking through Tiger-colored glasses!One of Clemson’s homecoming traditions is gigantic displays of school spirit on Bowman Field. Most of the displays are made by the fraternities. One of my favorites this year was this pair of Wayfarer’s, depicting historic Tillman Hall on the inside and the notoriously loud Death Valley on the outside.Big, Middle, and Little enjoyed a little sibling rough-housing outside Big’s apartment building while we readied the food for our tailgate. All the usual Southern tailgate staples were there—deviled eggs, baked beans, slaw, pumpkin cookies, Tiger cupcakes . . . But the piece de resistance was the pulled pork barbecue made by Mr. D. on the smoker he built himself! I probably don’t have to tell you that he’s a Clemson engineer. Plenty of co-eds and former co-eds stopped by to partake! Even a rogue Auburn Tiger was welcomed into the huddle!Good food and cute girls brought the guys around, too, although they seemed to sleep in later than the girls!

Somehow in this hectic fall, the Mister and I slipped away to Asheville to celebrate our wedding anniversary. Seventeen years. We had a delightful long lunch in Biltmore Village and spent the afternoon antiquing and talking without interruption!Not intending to buy a single thing, we ended up finding this black leather chair, which needed a minor repair. Happily, we know the owner of a crackerjack leather shop, so we texted a photo and asked, “Should we?” Get it was the emphatic reply; the price was unbelievably good! Imagine my delight upon returning home to learn that furniture is the traditional gift for the 17th anniversary.

Are you bored, yet? I told you this was a lonnnnng post!

Apple-picking is a fall tradition for us. Sky Top Orchard in Flat Rock, North Carolina, used to be our “secret.” Turns out that a little publicity over 16 years can make a place famous, bordering on becoming a victim of its own success. Of course, now they have doughnuts, both apple and pumpkin. “Wait, Mom. Seriously, you thought we’d take some home with us? That’s funny.”The doughnut eaters compare a South Carolina driver’s license to a recently issued permit.The Mister and me and enough for a pie.

Lastly, I’ll leave you with a few shots from the Big Apple and my early birthday celebration. C, E, and B, ready to board.Lilies in the lobby of the Hotel Elysee, which we would all highly recommend as a great choice for a place to stay. The sitting room of our suite on the 8th floor.Our first stop was the MoMA, where E checks out a Georges Braque painting. E and I turned out to be the museum rats this trip.One of my favorite NYC views, looking into the MoMA Sculpture Garden. We were a bit surprised to see so many leaves still on the trees in mid-November. The Elysee offers a delightful wine and cheese hour every weekday afternoon. Birthday girls drink champagne when offered.Our view of 54th Street.One of my great aunts lived in this building from about 1950 until about 1990, when my dad brought her home to Tennessee for her last days. Another great aunt lived for years at East 57th Street, but regrettably I didn’t get a photo of her building.

We had a leeetle shopping success at the Carlisle outlet. One of us, who for her own protection cannot be identified, is now a member of the Executive Club.To restore our strength, we succumbed to a fine pasta lunch at Serafina’s. And, it’s a good thing we did. Shopping the Veteran’s Day shoe sales can be exhausting! Fresh air and sunshine were the order of the next day, so we strolled through Central Park. We were blessed by an unexpected Gospel concert with fabulous acoustics. I showed off my DaniBP-inspired color story. Once at the JKO reservoir, we popped back out to Fifth Avenue and headed for the Guggenheim. Of course, I had to pay homage to Mr. and Mrs. Pimm and Lyle the Crocodile as we passed by East 88th Street.

We spent several hours in the Guggenheim and the Met, and then set off on a leisurely stroll (or death march, depending on your perspective) that evening back toward Midtown and a delicious dinner at Montebello’s. Of course, en route, we had to stop in the Lily store, where frocks were purchased for the Lily-lovin’ daughters left at home. Maybe next time, girls!The next morning found us enjoying breakfast in the library at the Elysee, before heading out to Redeemer Presbyterian’s morning service, where we were delighted by the music, the fellowship, and the message of the inimitable Tim Keller. When the service opened inviting the congregation to meditate on this C. S. Lewis quote, I knew we were meant to be there.

“In each of my friends there is something that only some other friend can fully bring out. By myself I am not large enough to call the whole man into activity; I want other lights than my own to show all his facets. Now that Charles is dead, I shall never again see Ronald’s [Tolkien’s] reaction to a specifically Charles joke. Far from having more of Ronald, having him “to myself” now that Charles is away, I have less of Ronald…In this, Friendship exhibits a glorious “nearness by resemblance” to heaven itself where the very multitude of the blessed (which no man can number) increases the fruition which each of us has of God. For every soul, seeing Him in her own way, doubtless communicates that unique vision to all the rest.

Cheers to my friends, each of whom makes me richer and more blessed in countless ways!

And, so, (yes, I’m still going), the T&C Household had much to be thankful for on Thanksgiving. Now, as I said words and words ago, the above events were the highlights of our fall. Rest assured there were misunderstandings and cross words, a few frozen pizzas, the learning curve (steep) of my new job, leaking garbage bags, papers turned in late, vapid conversations, stopped-up toilets, misplaced jackets, and all the rest of it. That’s just life.

I say learn from the worst, and choose to remember the best. How about you?

Happy Thanksgiving!

2011-11-24T00:00:00.001-05:00

Doris Lee
Thanksgiving Dinner
c. 1935
Art Institute of Chicago

Jack Pot!

2011-11-07T17:38:00.001-05:00

The Mister and I have a couple of causes that we believe in deeply and have made a commitment to support financially. We’re not “heavy hitters,” by any means, but we try to be generous with what we have. It’s hard these days, so many needs, so many worthwhile charities—no one—or very few can support them all. Still, when I have a few extra dollars, I pitch it in the bucket or buy a box of cookies. Fund-raising is tough, whether it’s done at galas in grand museums or in citrus sales for the high school band. American Museum of Natural History gala, NYC

Earlier this fall, I made a five dollar donation to a local charity and was automatically entered in a drawing for some cookware.

Turns out, I won a beautiful Le Creuset 5.5 quart French oven! I hope you all have a wonderful surprise this week!

If you cook with Le Creuset, please share some tips and recipes with me! This is my first piece!

Yes to November

2011-11-01T23:08:00.001-04:00

How beautifully leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days. ~John Burroughs Well, kids, the leaves aren’t the only things growing older ‘round here. Yes, T&C Mom soon will be heralding a milestone birthday—41 days and counting. Oh, I hardly think I’m entering my “last days,” but I am still aiming for every day left—no matter how many there are—to be full of light and color. To that end, I started a new job today. If you are a regular reader, then you might be thinking, didn’t she start a new job this summer? Well, yes, I did, and although I enjoyed it, when an opportunity to take an editorial position presented itself, I jumped! I’ve been freelancing off and on for almost 20 years, and I honestly thought that I was too old and the economy was too tough for me to be offered a serious position. Happily, I was wrong! God provided a wonderful opportunity for me with a growing company, and I am so grateful. I’ll be doing something I love, and, unbelievably, I will work from home three days a week and in the office two. Everyone in the T&C house is pretty happy about that! November, slandered as drear and gloomy by far too many poets, also marks a 23-pound weight loss for me. I’m rather tall, so it’s not a shocking transformation, but I feel great and optimistic as I enter my new decade.

And to start the celebration a wee bit early, three friends and I are heading to New York for a fabulous long weekend! We are all excited as a girls’ weekend is long overdue! And to make sure that I’m looking my best, the winsome Dani BP has created one of her famous color stories just for me! You can read about it here! If you don’t know Dani’s blog, you must become acquainted. She writes beautifully and without pretension about style, travel, cooking, and housekeeping. She inspires me with every post!

What inspires you? How do you bring light and color into your life?

From the Archives: Will You Walk Into My Parlor?

2011-10-31T00:00:00.001-04:00

So begins the charming and slightly spooky poem “The Spider and the Fly,” published by British author Mary Howitt (1799-1888) in 1829. After offering such an innocent-sounding invitation, the crafty spider goes on to tell the fly that hers is the “prettiest little parlor that you ever did spy.” Although I’m certain that my parlor is not the prettiest, I do, like Miss Spider, “have many curious things to show when you are there."
Collecting Halloween ephemera is not something I set out to do. Because of my Christian faith, I’m far more inspired and interested in celebrating Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter. Beyond carving a Jack O’Lantern, decorating for Halloween is kind of new to me. It all started years ago when I was sorting through some family Christmas ornaments, and I came across these tin noisemakers that had been my mother’s when she was a girl in the 1940s. Called clickers or crickets, these party favors actually make a loud, hollow pop! I instantly loved them because of the great graphics and because they had been my mother’s.

After a little research, I found that they most likely were manufactured by the Kirchhof Company of New Jersey. The firm also produced Braille printers and ticker-tape machines. Kirchhof entered the holiday market initially by making Christmas tree candle holders, then noisemakers. Kirchhof is thought to have supplied American soldiers with the crickets (clickers) used at the World War II Invasion of Normandy. Clickers were used by Allied paratroopers as a way of identifying friend from foe. A soldier would click once, and if two clicks were received in return from an unidentifiable soldier then his identification was confirmed. But, I digress.

Of course, my clickers had to be displayed, but since they were small, I needed to provide a setting for them. Naturally, papier mache Jack O’Lanterns provided the perfect background. In an earlier post about fall decorating, Falling Into Place, I mentioned a few of my self-imposed decorating rules. Let me just say, I realize I’m on mighty thin ice with Rule Number Three!
Nevertheless, here’s the drop-leaf table in the family room. It’s really the focal point of all our Halloween decorating.Other than the clickers, none of this is old or even vintage, but I think it has the right look. The eyeball pails add the perfect twist, in my opinion.I tried something new in the dining room this year, adding a few homemade bats the children made years ago. The paper bat garland is a Martha Stewart whimsy. One end is trailing down to the pumpkins in this photo, but, don’t fear, it’s been re-affixed. Back in the family room, a totem pole of Jacks and a wooden cat cozy up to an old framed postcard that reads

Sing a song of Halloween

Pumpkins everywhere,

Cats and bats and witches

are flying through the air!

And, there you have it—a quick tour through my parlor. I hope you enjoyed it!

Jeepers!

2011-10-29T23:54:00.001-04:00

Two of our three children have facebook accounts, and from time to time, I like to do what I consider “checking in”—scrolling through their wall posts, clicking on photos, looking at a few of their close friends’ pages. You know, normal mom stuff. I would never do something so mortifying to them as actually post a comment on their wall. (I have, however, sent a text directing one of them to remove a comment he made.) It’s part of the deal at the T&C House. As long as the Mister and I are paying the bills, then we determine where your so-called privacy begins and ends. The Mister and I are careful not to abuse our authority, but I have occasionally been accused of “creepin.’”

Really, they have no idea of the “wall creeping” of which I’m capable.

Do you check up on your kids’ online activity? Do you hang giant spiders on your house?

A Friendly Ghost

2011-10-28T18:03:00.001-04:00

I suspect by now you’ve seen these cuties on Pinterest. The news is that not only did I “pin” this idea, but I also actually made these treats. One for the piano teacher and one for her husband. One each for the tutor, her husband, and toddler. And a few for sweet friends.

Assemble a couple of Graham crackers, a fun-sized Hershey bar, and a Peeps ghost in a cellophane sack, and you have a frighteningly simple treat! After the s’more is re-assembled, microwave for about ten seconds, and enjoy!

What’s your favorite Halloween treat?

From the Archives: A Ghost Story

2011-10-18T20:30:00.000-04:00

I received so many sweet comments when I posted this last year that I decided to post it again for anyone who might have missed it.

When I was a little girl, watching television was only a small part of my big day of playing and pretending. In fact, the only show I remember seeing regularly wasCaptain Kangaroo. Bob Keeshan and his team put together arguably the finest children’s programming ever. Parked in a child-sized wooden rocker with a glass of milk and a graham cracker, I sat mesmerized for an hour while my mother enjoyed a bit of peace. I am sure I laughed at the antics of Bunny Rabbit, Mr. Moose, Dancing Bear, and Mister Greenjeans, but my favorite part of the show was when Captain Kangaroo would read a story. Mike Mulligan and His Steamshovel, Mary Ann; Caps for Sale; Make Way for Ducklings; and A Snowy Daywere a few of my favorites, and they are books that I read to my own children years later. One book that the Captain read that I absolutely loved was Georgie, a tale of a sweet and curious ghost.I loved Georgie’s shyness. The line drawings of a quaint New England house and its owners, the Whittakers captivated me, and I loved the simple prose that author Robert Bright used to tell his ghostly tales.When we were in New York this past fall, we spent a delightful rainy Sunday morning browsing through the Corner Bookstore, where I found another favorite ghost story, Ghosts in the House! This charming picture book tells the story of a little girl who buys a house only to discover it is full of ghosts. She makes quick work of catching them, promptly tosses them in the washer, and then stitches them up as curtains and bed linens. It is a delightful book, and I highly recommend you get it for your children or your grandchildren or nieces or nephews or just for yourself, as I did!

So, these were the books I was thinking of when I devised this extremely inexpensive and easy and non-scary way to add some subtle Halloween charm to the T&C house.

Start with white tissue paper, the same kind with which you would line a gift box. You’ll need at least one sheet for each of your front or street side windows. Butcher paper would work well for this project, too.

Next, simply draw out some ghostly shapes, with loose, gentle curves. I tried to leave one corner of each tissue paper intact, to serve as my guide for placement and to prevent the ghosts from looking like blobs! Cut out the shapes with scissors.Here’s our dining room table, covered with a variety of ghost bodies.Next, using a wide-tipped black Sharpie draw simple round eyes and smiles or O-shaped mouths. I made some of each. Be sure to use some newspaper or scrap paper underneath your tissue paper because the Sharpie bleeds through!Finally, place your ghosts in your windows using Magic Scotch tape. It was hard to get a good picture because of the glare, but as you can see there’s a ghost in each window, a few are placed upside down in hopes of giving the appearance of fun-loving spooks whooshing through the house! I found it easiest to put a tiny piece of tape at the top of the ghost’s head to get it into position, and then to tape the body into place. Above is one of the ghosts during the day.

And, here’s the twilight shot.

Happy Haunting!

One Holiday at a Time!

2011-10-17T17:53:00.000-04:00

This makes me want to buy something there, how about you?

Really Great Pumpkin

2011-10-15T23:14:00.001-04:00

Here at the T&C house, we always manage to watch “It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown,” at least once during October. When the children were little, watching “The Great Pumpkin” meant lights out, pajamas on, and a big bowl of homemade caramel corn. Happily, our brood still enjoys the tradition, the difficulty is getting everyone together. We’re hoping for an evening during Big’s fall break. One of my favorite quotes from the Peanuts gang is when Linus says, “There are three things I have learned never to discuss with people: religion, politics, and The Great Pumpkin.” I love Linus; he’s so earnest.

I also am crazy about this Krusteaz mix that I found recently at Costco. Typically, I’m not too keen on using baking mixes as it’s not really much trouble to bake from scratch, but I decided to give this a try. I already have a terrific pumpkin bread recipe, but the recipes for pancakes and cookies definitely caught my eye. I made the cookies, adding semi-sweet chocolate chips, for our picnic cruise and for tailgating at Clemson. They were a big hit at both events.The pumpkin spice flavor is surprisingly good!

The baking time is only about 12 minutes, which is about twice as long as it takes Middle to polish a dozen off, along with a gallon of milk, of course! I did manage to bake a batch on the sly, so that the Mister and I could have something in hand when we went to meet the new neighbors.

Welcome to the neighborhood, Erin and Phil!

What is your favorite pumpkin-flavored treat? Sweet or savory?