Have we changed the way we picnic? I recently watched an old Mad Men episode where the Draper family drives out into the country for a picnic lunch. The scene is exactly what you expect with a wicker hamper and a blanket. As they pack up to go home, Don tosses his empty beer can into the bushes and Betty flings the paper napkins and plates onto the grass, which made the internet really sad because no one likes a litterbug. But aside from the littering, has the art of eating on the grass changed?
Read moreVladimir Putin and Peg: Part II
Remember my friend Peg, the modern day pioneer woman with a crow named Vladimir Putin? If you missed the post, read it here. It is currently the most popular post I've ever published and is responsible for lots of new subscribers. (Hello!)
Peg adopted Vladimir Putin as a baby last spring and spent last summer and fall spoiling him. You can see from the photo collage (above) that poor Peg cannot get through a paragraph of Elizabeth Gilbert's most excellent novel A Signature for All Things without Vladimir vying for attention. Maybe he too wanted to read about Alma and her quim. (Look it up.)
Read moreC'mon In! A Peek Inside My Front Door
I live in a saltbox colonial. When you come to my door, you will look for the doorbell. It isn't there. The man who built our house loved early American architecture. He incorporated many period-correct elements, like multiple fireplaces, wide-plank floors, and mullioned windows. But no overhead lights and no doorbells. I've always wanted to ask him why he stooped to include flushing toilets.
Read moreMother Hen Matchmaker on the Loose
Phew! It's done. I just completed my dating questionnaire, uploaded two flattering images, clicked 'profile complete', and am now anxiously awaiting my matches. Once I receive "today's harvest", as it's called, I will begin the process of swiping left or right. Please let me rise above my shallow nature and judge not on looks alone.
Because my son is depending on me as his new online matchmaker. A mother gone haywire, you wonder? Nah, I thought it would be funny.
Read moreLaura Ingalls Wilder's Illegitimate Irish Lovechild
This week's post is about my friend Peg. As way of introduction, let's play "Five Truths and a Lie". In this game, you have to guess which statement about Peg is a lie. Ready? Here we go.
- In 1975, Peg boarded a Greyhound bus by herself to spend the weekend at her brother's fraternity house at the University of Wisconsin. She was five.
The Secret Behind the Hardest Collection
This collection took months to put together. Kris and I messed around with different frames. We tried chunky wood finials. A shiny orange vase. Worn baskets. I can't tell you how many iterations we attempted. Probably twenty. We got close a couple of times, but after stepping away for a day or so, we would come back, growl in frustration, and begin again.
The screenprint, titled "Winter Sun", is the work of Milwaukee artist Miriam K. Eaton who passed away in 2008. In 2013, I bought a large box of her prints and old posters without knowing much about her.
Read moreA Coywolf in Wisconsin
On a cold and quiet school morning in February about ten years ago, I was toasting waffles when the phone rang. It was my next-door neighbor. She didn't usually call that early unless one of our kids had run away to her house. (Read that here.) Anyway, she told me that a wolf was attacking a deer under the treehouse in our backyard. I repeated her incredible message out loud to the four waffle-eaters sitting at the table.
Read moreArtists in the Family
The couple in this photo are teacher and student. The photo was taken in the early 1950s. He looks like Salvador Dali with his pencil mustache, artsy beret, painter's smock and flamboyant tie. His lovely subject is dressed similarly and clutches a bouquet of paintbrushes. Their names are Hugo Martinez and Gisela Ballesteros and shortly after this photo was taken, they married. They have spent their lives in Bogotá, Colombia where they have dedicated themselves to the practice of art -- she as a painter and he as a sculptor.
Read moreI'm a Scaredy Cat
This is Meeko, a kitty cat who sashays onto a photography set and owns it. He doesn't mind the lights, the flash, nor the attention. He is a natural in front of the camera, and tomorrow, he will be the lead attraction in the shop's new April Fool's slideshow.
For those who don't know, I used to celebrate April Fool's by pranking my kids. This year, the only child left at home is out of reach, traveling with the high school marching band for spring break. So annoying.
Read moreThat Adorable Late Bloomer, Julia Child
Julia Child wrote her first cookbook at the age of 49. She introduced America to the concept of a television cooking show, "The French Chef" at the age of 51. By the time she died at 92, she had authored numerous books, cooked on camera for hundreds of television episodes, been dubbed "Our Lady of the Ladle" by Time Magazine, won the French Legion of Honor, three Emmys and a Peabody, and perhaps in her opinion best of all, she was the subject of parodies on Second City, Saturday Night Live, and The Cosby Show.
Read moreA Knitted Muse Who Drives
Last week, I took a class on Skillshare. I've written about Skillshare before. For $10 a month, I get access to free classes taught on many subjects, some by some very famous people like Seth Godin. In fact, if you are interested in trying it, please email me here and I will forward you an offer for 3 months at $0.99.
Anyway, this particular class, led by Andrew Knapp, is titled Photograph Your Muse: One Subject, Endless Possibilities. Andrew's dog, Momo is his muse. That dog might also be an early iteration of the 23rd century's Dalai Lama, as he is the most peaceful, friendly creature and allows himself to be posed in ridiculously adorable compositions. Go here to follow Andrew and Momo.
Read moreBereaved
This week I witnessed the ushering in of grief. A tsunami, a spilled glass of milk, a strike of a match. Cold waves, contents released, heat. It materialized out of nowhere. In a blink, my friend is whisked away to a new country, a land of sorrow, where I cannot follow.
I remain here, shaking, sad, troubled.
Read moreFinally! Some Instagram Love!
This post is all about Instagram. If you have no interest, I understand. Feel free to click off the page. If you're leaving me, you might as well go somewhere fun. Check out this post of boudoir photos featuring one of my fellow bloggers, Shannon. Doesn't she look so sexy?
For those who are still in the room and want to talk Instagram, thank you! I'll be sharing a few tips that I have been using for all of twelve hours (because I'm a bozo), and then, at the bottom, I'll share a few of my favorite Instagram accounts.
Read moreWhat Not to Buy New: Collectible Chickens
Back in September, I started a series called "What Not to Buy New," in which I talk about the categories of things that we ought to buy used or vintage. You can read Part One here.
Today's post is Part Two, about collectibles. Some of us collect quirky things, don't we? I bet you can remember with pride each time you found a piece to add to your collection. I doubt I need to encourage you to hunt for your collectibles in vintage and antique shops.
Read moreWeekend Listicle // Things I Can't Sell
I am troubled by the question of what to do with a few items I have which fall under the category 'black memorabilia'. All of these items depict black mammies, and from a purely aesthetic viewpoint, I love them. The colors -- black, white, & red -- are striking. The rag doll mother and child were stitched by hand. Same with the framed appliqué canvas. And I adore cookie jars in the shapes of people or animals. A black mammy seems like a nostalgic symbol of home and hospitality.
Read moreTemporary Wall Decals and a Smart Alecky Son
Many of you know that I shoot the photos for Finder Not Keeper in my home. As a result, the walls are painted a rainbow of colors. I also use wall decals. They help me achieve a different look out of the same color of paint. (Yes, yes, I know my husband deserves an award. My mother points it out regularly.)
Read moreWeekend Listicle // Road Trip Play List
I'm just back from a harrowing 10-hour road trip on a snowy highway. My husband and I took turns at the wheel but mostly he drove and mostly I shouted loud warnings about trucks! Ice! Wind! Snowplow! Winter storms bring out the inner panic monster, don't they?
At least the two young men in the back behaved. I remember the days when the boys were young, and we had to strategically place four car seats based on arm span and likelihood of child to use arms for swatting, slapping, or smacking a sibling. Back then, I threatened to throw my shoes at anyone who misbehaved. Given my lousy aim, and my preponderance to wear clogs, it was an effective technique. They still talk about the time they refused to return the shoe after I flung it at them.
Read moreTop Ten Love Stories
The best job I ever had was working in the fiction room of a library. Walnut shelving, Persian rugs, a sunken garden, leather chairs, hot coffee, and thousands of novels -- really, I should have paid them! In my time employed there, I heard readers recommend one particular book over and over again. I tried to snag it, but for two straight years, it was perpetually checked out.
When we moved to Wisconsin, a very kind neighbor welcomed me to her book group. At the end of my first meeting, the other members graciously invited me to select the next month's title. I knew this was a kind of test. But thanks to the library job, I didn't hesitate. With much conviction, I recommended that elusive novel.
Read moreNot Feeling the Valentine Vibe?
On Monday, the first draft of this listicle began as an inspirational ode to love. (For new readers, most every week I try to synthesize the best of the web into a themed listicle of links, accompanied by an object in my shop that relates.)
But my valentine is away. He travels frequently for work and I struggle to find an equilibrium when he is gone. Proof: it's Wednesday, this listicle is late, and it is certainly not an ode to love. It is a tribute to the flipside of love, which isn't hate. It's confusion, loneliness, frustration.
Read moreHot Oil, Raw Meat, and Spears
Around Valentine's Day, they crop up: photos of happy couples gazing at each other over a fondue pot. I've never understood this form of marketing because in my opinion, fondue is tailor made for kids, boys in particular. Look at this party. We had raw meat, sharp spears, open access to hot oil, oversized appetites and BLAM! it's like we time traveled back to the Paleolithic era. Everyone crowds around the pot, the fight for the meat is real, and there's at least one burnt tongue and some singed arm hairs. My friend Rachel is in the corner of the photo, marveling at the romance unfolding in her kitchen on Valentine's Day. So wonderful.
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