Thanksgiving: Floral Inspiration

It seems as if people are taking it easier this year, letting Thanksgiving happen without pre-empting it for Christmas.  I think this is wonderful, personally, and if we have the sour economy to 'thank' for it, so be it.  Getting away from the crass commercialism of the 'holiday season' can only be a GREAT thing, in my opinion.  So, in that vein, in putting together the 'look' for my Thanksgiving dining table (and, let's face it:  Thanksgiving is ALL about the dining table!), I started searching around the internet for some inspiration for a seasonal floral arrangement.  At first, I was captivated by the little bouquets in square, chunky glass vases:

These are nice for oblong tables, as you can place several of them along the center, interspersed with candles. My dining room table is round, however, so I kept looking and found this at epicurious:

The link provides instructions on how to create this look.  I don't have a short compote around the house, but I managed to find, after rummaging in the cupboard, a round brass footed planter that had long ago held a silk floral arrangment. Bonus from the same cupboard: Floral foam! My usual trip to the grocery store gleaned some nice seasonal blooms in interesting colors that I found pleasing and complementary to my dining room color scheme. I then added some dried grasses from my own garden, and the arrangement, as I interpreted it (for under $20) turned out like this:

I think it looks like a combination of the two styles. If I have time, I might cut down the stems a bit (again!) because it really should be a bit shorter if it is going to stay on the table during the meal. I'm pretty pleased with it in general, though!

Have a wonderful, safe, and comforting Thanksgiving!

Anthropology Gift-Card Giveaway from European Paint Finishes!

I'm sharing this awesome, just in time for the holidays, give-away for a $50 Anthropology gift card which is redeemable in person or on-line.  Go to European Paint Finishes to enter!

Music, Past and Present

Credits, left to right: DGW Auctioneers, Harp Gallery, Antiques Atlas

An Art Nouveau Music Cabinet renovation posted by Peeling Paint got me to thinking about this particular type of furnishing, something that was probably much more common in the Victorian home and those of the early 20th century than the average modern-day house.  I certainly never had one growing up, even though we owned a piano (and never had anywhere to keep the music, except on top of the piano itself!).  Yes, a spinet piano was usually sold with a bench that doubled as music storage, but this quickly proved inadequate, especially if someone was taking lessons.

Still wondering what the purpose of the mirror was...?

I'm not usually a fan of red, but I think this little music cabinet looks delightful done up in Annie Sloan Emperor's Silk Chalk Paint.  I wouldn't mind having it in my "music room" (aka the living room).  Speaking of which, I've gone back to my texts on Victorian life to do some research on the importance of music in the household, and found some interesting little bits and pieces, such as this website, victoriana.com.  As noted, it was the inevitable coal dust and grit associated with homes of nineteenth and early twentieth century England which necessitated a place in which to store music where it could be kept relatively clean. Having lived in a vintage 1865 London terrace house, I can only imagine that the dust levels in homes of this era must have been all but suffocating when coal was the main source of fuel.  The grit accumulation in the window sills, long after the banning of coal burning at the turn of the millennium, was alarming. 

Thanks to modern awareness, the air we breathe is clearer, but....wouldn't a beautiful cabinet to store all that sheet music be just as functional today?

A pair of more pedestrian, most likely mass-produced early 20th Century examples:
 right, Denhams Auctioneers; left,  Vintiques

A gorgeous example of Art Nouveau from  Tole Treasures

If Edwardian is more your style, there's this beauty from Wilson Antiques

Keep making music!

Linking with:

To Pinch or Not To Pinch...

It's that time of year again, when the last warm days of Summer are finally giving way to cooler nights and chilly mornings, and we have to come to terms with what to do with the potted annuals that have graced our patio for the past few months.  I've read up on overwintering New Guinea Impatiens, and it seems that it can be done successfully if you pinch back at least a third (or is back to a third?) of its current size.  I just don't know if I can bear to do it!

Look at all those sweet little buds...

Well, I guess it's time to bite the bullet, and go buy some Mums...trying to avoid the inevitable never proves wise!

Enjoying this beautiful day of sunshine,

Linking My Way Around

Happy October! I've been busy....and today I thought I would try something new, for me at least, here in the blog-world:  sharing a link-party give-away.  One of the great things that I've discovered cruising around here in blog-land is the seemingly inexhaustible information and inspirational resources. So, I am going to share one here. Thanks to Amanda at Reloved Rubbish (I love that name!) and Maison De Stencils, we all have a chance to win one of the fabulous stencils such as that used on Reloved Rubbish's latest project.  Even if you're not into stencils, I think you will agree that these are pretty amazing!



Stenciled Slipcover from Reloved Rubbish

Enjoy what's left of the weekend, and good luck should you decide to enter!

Ice Box: Food for Thought

Yesterday I had a few extra minutes to slip into one of my favorite haunts:  a conveniently located furniture and household goods consignment shop.  I've gotten some beauties there before, both of the "ready to use" and "needs serious help" (See Marie-Louise ) varieties, so it's always fun to have a browse around.  One of the first things that I spotted upon entering the shop was an old fashioned ice box, which looked very much like Letter B pictured above.  It got me thinking about living life in a much simpler time. What would it have been like to have no refrigeration, and how would that have affected how one went about preparing meals, grocery shopping, caring for a family's nutrition?

A few weeks ago, during the aftermath of Hurricane Irene, my family and I, as well as many others in this neck of the woods, got to experience what it's like in 21st century America to go without the comforts and benefits of electricity.  The power was out for only 26 hours, yet it was sorely obvious how much we all relied on it, especially for food preparation:  although we were able to cook on the propane grill (since the weather had turned for the favorable), the food needed to prepped and served by candlelight since the dwindling cloud cover made things very dark in the kitchen.  It made me wonder how folks managed it back in the day, and still do to this day in other parts of the world.  I've always had a fascination with social history (loved The 1900 House) and learning about the way ordinary people lived their daily lives.  Did I buy the ice box?  Not yet...

Remembering 9/11

Tuesday, September 11, 2001 (as written on September 11, 2011)

Just an ordinary weekday morning in Princeton, albeit a beautifully clear and sparkling one in the aftermath of an oppressively hot and humid Monday. The older two kids were at school, the fourth day of the school year in their new town in which we had been living barely two months.  We were back in the USA after spending the previous five years living abroad. Hayley, our four year old, was excited to be starting pre-school the next day:   Her first day of school, ever.

I was in the kitchen looking through an enormous stack of mail and paperwork for a letter that the elementary school nurse had sent home regarding Collin’s need for a TB test. He was scheduled to have one at our new pediatrician’s office that afternoon when his older sister had her physical, and I could not find the form for the life of me. I had given up looking, assuming that it had been thrown out by accident, and had called the school nurse in order to have a another copy sent home. The nurse was absent that day, I was told by the office secretary, but I could probably just have the doctor’s office complete their own form stating that my son had in fact had the required medical test. I had just hung up the phone with the school when Gavin came into the kitchen and said, “You’ve got to look at this.”

We went upstairs to the office that Gavin had carved out for himself in the attic, and I saw the television image: the tower with the airplane sticking out of it. As I was looking at it wondering, “how are they going to fix this?”, the second plane hit. Gavin asked me what I was thinking, and I clearly remember saying, “National security.”

No one knew what the hell was going on. We spent the next hours glued to the television, while simultaneously carrying-out the mundane tasks of daily existence. The little ones ate and took naps and played, blissfully ignorant of the horror. When Flight 93 went down in western Pennsylvania, I called my parents in Pittsburgh. I was so distraught that my dad must have thought that something had happened to one of us, asking me tenderly, “what’s the matter, dear?”

Time passed, but almost seemed to stand still that morning. A PTO volunteer called at one point to inform parents that the schools would remain open, and that children should remain at school until the normal dismissal time. She also asked that someone be home to either collect from school or meet the children when they got off the school bus. Later, I learned that this call was meant to ascertain if a parent was going to be home, that is, not in New York. The television remained on. We watched in disbelief as first one tower went down, then the second.

The school day was coming to a close. Gavin walked down to Johnson Park to get Collin, and I remained home with Hayley and Sean. What do you say to a seven-year-old about something that you can’t even get your own head around? A short while later, Megan came home from the middle school, her attitude callous, and almost defiant, too wrapped up in adolescent uncertainties to feel compassion and empathy, or even fear.

Since I had not yet reclaimed my driving privileges (license had expired while abroad, and I, at age 41, was waiting, like a seventeen-year-old, to take the road test a few weeks later), we all six piled into the car and headed to the pediatrician’s office. Driving down Rte 206, everything seemed normal, but yet, nothing was normal. The township offices had the flags flying at half-staff, as they would remain for weeks to come. We arrived at the doctor’s, a place where none of us had ever been (except I, once as child when my best friend came to receive a scheduled “allergy shot.”). The nurses had a small television set and a radio playing behind the reception desk, yet everything proceeded as it normally would. No one said anything about what was going on. Not a word. We filled out forms. We met the doctor. We talked about height and weight. Collin had the TB test, Megan had a vaccine, and we went home.

For the next two weeks, not a day passed that I did not at some point spontaneously break out in tears. Grief, fear, and rage, combined with a feeling of being totally disconnected, persisted as we continued to live our lives, day by day, wondering when the other shoe would drop.

With hope in my heart that there someday might be peace in this world,