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One of my college kids called last week with the news that he just adopted a cat. He sent me a photo of the male cat, named Jennifer, playing in a box. Jennifer looks remarkably like these bookends and if you purchase them (here), you too can enjoy cats playing in boxes.
For those of you experiencing bad weather or cabin fever, this week's listicle is one of my best.
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This week, I'm reporting back from the field of Alt Summit in Utah where I attended a four-day conference for bloggers and creative business owners. On the first day, I sat front row during the keynote speeches of some really really smart women. Give an entrepreneur time to prepare, a clicker, and a microphone and you get insights worthy of Ted Talks.
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I am back from Alt Summit, a conference for bloggers and creative entrepreneurs that takes place annually in Salt Lake City. In the photo above, I'm on the right, dancing in the dark with three new friends, who, you can see, could hardly take their eyes off of my Elaine Benes dance moves.
As business conferences go, this one rocks.
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I'm in Salt Lake City this week, attending a blog conference. On the airplane yesterday, the couple in front of me spent the entire four-hour flight attempting to entertain and pacify their antsy two-year-old. They had not a single rattle or toy. The mom sported gorgeous long hair and got angrier and angrier that her little girl wanted to pull it. Well, what else was the child to do?
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Brrrr. Temps here in Wisconsin are low low low. In Shakespeare's words, "Tis cold as a dead man's nose." Get thee under a blanket, make thee a cup of hot coffee, and let us talk Dr. Zhivago.
The film was released in 1965 but it was in the '70s when I sat up late one night and watched it on television. I loved Omar Sharif. He reminded me of my father. Not just his handsome good looks and his sophisticated charm. Dr. Zhivago was a physician who wrote poetry and loved Lara, a fair-skinned nurse. My dad was a physician who painted watercolors and loved Maryann, a fair-skinned nurse. Omar Sharif was born in Egypt in 1932 and my dad was born in Iran in 1932. Only one letter separated Sharif from Sharifi.
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The object in the photo above is a bootjack, which one uses to remove one's riding boots if one hasn't a valet. It is available at Finder Not Keeper here.
Yes, yes, Downton Abbey is back for its final season. We are two episodes in and the show continues to employ the same old formulas that, by Jeeves, hooked us in Seasons 1-5. Julian Fellowes mixes equal parts gorgeous clothing, settings that show the glory of Merrie Old England, delicious put-downs from Granny/Dowager Countess/Violet and of course a healthy sprinkling of class struggle and snobbish frippery.
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In today's post, you'll read about a special person and see the images of a room I decorated for her and her mother. You'll also get a few design maxims that I applied to this space. They are guidelines that I borrowed from my closet and maybe you can use them in your own house.
So there is this young woman. She is a kind of wild thing. A bohemian. She is also a very good,
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How was your holiday? I saw the new Jennifer Lawrence film, "Joy", which is loosely based on the life of inventor/entrepreneur Joy Mangano. I went with some of my college kids who have been home for the past couple of weeks. It's so fun hanging out with them, but I basically had to shutter the shop. Thus, the premise of the movie about a beleaguered working mom felt very relevant personally. Maybe it does for you too.
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I buy things for strange reasons. There isn't really a rhyme or reason. Is that wrong-headed? Time will tell. Today I'm listing some cufflinks in the shape of wishbones. And here's why:
It’s Christmas vacation, and I’m fifteen years old, the self-conscious age when I cringe hourly at my family’s annoying behavior. On this evening
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Indoor animals never cease to amaze. Recently at a holiday party, our sons gravitated towards the mischievous Meeko, a beautiful and friendly fluffball of a cat who, you'd never guess by looking at, is currently on parole from the county D.A. Meeko suffers from a Napoleonic complex and compulsively picks fights with very very large dogs. His last fight landed him in hot water with the authorities and he is now miserably confined to the house. He wants out worse than a teenage girl at a family reunion.
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Look at them, an idyllic family, frolicking hand-in-hand-in-hand through the grass on a breezy fall day. I spent an afternoon photographing them for their holiday card and let me brag for just a moment about their stellar qualities. They are very low-maintenance. No one worried about hair or clothes or the cold. They seem to really like each other. Seven people crammed together and not one nasty word was uttered. And talk about patient!
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Back in the day, before camera phones and digital uploading made it easy to produce photo cards of happy family moments, people devised very creative ways to send holiday greetings through the mail.
There are a million ways to say 'Happy Holidays' with a card. The imagery and design of the card often conveyed something about the sender's
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Last spring, in the "trough of sorrow", when I doubted absolutely everything I was doing, I got an email from Janine Vangool, editor of UPPERCASE Magazine. She was including my collections in her new Compendium of Craft and Creativity.
Janine's email stated that The UPPERCASE Compendium of Craft & Creativity would collect the most inspiring work of the past few years into a beautiful print publication. Rich with stories of the makers, it would include interviews, studio tours and delve into the creative process. She
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When my son was five, he asked for a Bubble Fairy Barbie. After years of buying Power Rangers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and G.I. Joes, I couldn't wait to shop for this gift list item. As he opened the pink box, his older brothers teased him, and his growls back at them didn't make much difference. When the doll emerged, wrapped in organza wings with a drawstring cord
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Let's start the discussion today with a question: flour sifting. Why? Why? I'm all ears. Seriously, does separating the wee particles of flour moments before combining them back together make a whit of difference in flavor?
As you can guess, this post is an opportunity for me to nitpick. Or, more diplomatically, it's a break-down of what it takes to modernize an old-school recipe. I'm taking my favorite Christmas cookie recipe, which came from my grandma, which she got from dear Mabel Shauber who, God rest her soul, might have been the original prototype for Dana Carvey's
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It's Cyber Monday and I'd like to know who coined that hideous term. There's nothing wrong with internet shopping, but Cyber Monday sounds like an evil robotic cyborg named Monday who sucks cash out of your wallet and leaves you empty and staring in disbelief at the confirmation emails. In response, my Cyber Monday offering is handmade. Hand-painted. Stitched by hand. And it's on sale.
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Yes, we are back in the 1960s. Isn't it so pretty? Like every other trend, holiday decorating goes in cycles, and the current one is less about red and green and more about sparkle and shine. As you can see from this series of photos (everything available in the shop, of course) I am leaning towards soft shades of turquoise warmed up with aged gold.
It has taken some time to track down all these vintage holiday items. Most of it is from the 1950s-60s and when I see it at estate sales, I pounce.
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'Tis the season to season! Family is arriving and I'm busy in the kitchen, whipping up delectables. My feet ache already so this post is short and easy. Just a few quick hints and kitchen shortcuts from me to you.
This pepper is great in stuffing. I like the very subtle smoky flavor. I also sprinkle it in cheesy potatoes for the day after Thanksgiving. The jar is pricey but lasts a long time.
Milwaukee Iron is delicious on any comfort food. It's a yummy way to jazz up plain ole frozen corn. The Spice House, here in Milwaukee, created it to commemorate the 95th anniversary of Harley-Davidson, also a Milwaukee original.
In last week's gravy recipe, I referred to French salt. This is the kind I use. My grocery store carries it.
If you have the oven space, this blasted broccoli is the best roasted vegetable recipe ever, I kid you not. I now make two trays because it gets gobbled up like popcorn. Here's the recipe from the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel. The smaller you cut the stalks, the better. The drier the broccoli, the better. Also, the recipe states that you should use your oven's convection setting, if possible. They're right. I've tried it in a non-convection oven and it doesn't turn out nearly as crispy.
I love cranberry chutney. This year, I'm serving it with cardamom whipped cream.
If you don't want to roast an entire turkey, this recipe is super easy and yields a rich stock for gravy. I make it once a month all winter long. The next day, we have Monica's turkey sandwiches with the moist-maker middle.
Have a wonderful holiday!
P.S. The salt and pepper shakers are new in the shop. They remind me so much of my parents. My mom is peppier than a Milwaukee Bucks cheerleader and my mustachioed father is salty in that interesting, unexpected way that all immigrants share when they verbally go to town in a non-native language. Photo by Renn Kuhnen.
Gravy: the liquified essence of a bird's life. A good one has hints of sunshine, rain, corn mash, and even slaughter. Hyperbole, you think? Never!
My grandmother taught me how to make gravy. Hers was a basic recipe, nothing extra added in, other than the sheer effort it took to make a few gallons of the stuff. That's the catch, you see.
A three-gallon batch of gravy takes on a life of its own. But when the family swells the way that ours has, it is a necessity. So now, my job at Thanksgiving
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Below are the links that brought me some comfort last weekend. I hope they help you too:
A traveler, powdered sugar, and a cell phone come together in this lovely short essay that will heal your heart.
"No one leaves home, unless home is the mouth of the shark..." by Sarah Jameel on Medium.
These are the kind of monsters that actually inspire kids.
A view of Paris from Connecticut.
My own love letter to France, written a little more than a year ago.