Decorating When Your Budget Won't Budge

A baby shower for twins in December?  Our job was to kick it old school and get creative in combining the holidays with ‘his and her’ décor.   These two watermelon baby carriages are festive, right?

You can pretty much throw anything on a little Christmas tree to play up your theme. Construction paper stars look rustic and beautiful and cost next to nothing.

What better way to frame the future?

Maybe a little holiday humor?

Their stockings were hung by the chimney with care. My daughter just added stickers for their names (so as not to lock the parents in on their handles).

One last holiday tip I heard this year. Turn a wreath upside down and fasten it to your light fixture. I know, I know – I should have added a pink and blue ornament, but at least it gave my neglected wreath a new purpose in life.

Happy Holidays, everyone!

Single Red Leaf

Last month, I drove up my driveway and saw how vibrant this burning bush was. Fall was in the air and the energetic colors were out. I was inspired to capture a picture of this flashy example of autumn.   

About a week later, look what happened. As the tree was preparing itself for winter, one leaf loitered for days and days. I came to appreciate its resilience and defiance as I stepped out each morning and marveled that it was still there.

I can’t decide which is more beautiful.

Fortunate Daughter

When my dad passed away 12 days ago, I asked him to send me a sign that he was all right.  Since then, I’ve heard particularly loud birds singing sweet songs. I’ve felt the wind dance around my feet, swirling circles of leaves and reminding me how he vigorously stirred his coffee. And now, this. Opening up my fortune cookie, well, you can imagine that it took my breath away. Thanks, Dad, for letting us know you haven’t left us.

He didn’t want any fanfare or ceremony, but we just had to honor his life. We chose to do a “Life Well-Lived” Celebration. It was good for our collective souls to tell stories, see his WWII dog tags, brag of his accomplishments, laugh over photos of him doing a funky dance at some long ago wedding. He taught us how to live our lives to the foolish. As a famous doctor (Dr. Seuss) once said, “don’t cry because it’s over; smile because it happened.”

A Wink and a Prayer

I loved my dad’s wink.  He’d charm the waitress or calm the nervous daughter about to walk down the aisle.  He transmitted calming non-verbal support with his wink, a shared conspiracy of understanding and solidarity.

One of the greatest gifts I received was last Saturday afternoon. Something just told me to pop over and see how he was doing. He was diagnosed with cancer about three weeks ago and had opted for no treatment. He just wanted to come home and pass on his own terms.

Although in pain and diminished in his ability to express himself, my dad gave me his trademark wink as I was leaving.  “Be good, Cissybabes,” he told me. “If you can’t be good, be careful.” The nickname, the sentiment, the wink – they all transported me back to when I was 12.

Dad passed away peacefully on Monday afternoon.  I’m so glad I got one last wink of reassurance on Saturday. I’ll treasure it always. 

I Never Saw Him Again

My dad wrote down a lot of his army stories and they are definitely worth sharing.  This one involves a friend and the road not taken:

                   I first met Leonitias in 1938 when we first arrived at Fort Williams, Maine, as raw recruits in the U.S. Army. His name was so hard to pronounce that everyone called him the “Greek.” He was like a caricature, about 5ft 5 inches and weighing about 150 lbs. His feet were so wide that the Army had to order special shoes for him. The Greek’s home was out on Cape Cod where his father owned and operated a restaurant. We became the best of friends and served our entire time together in the 5^th Infantry. He always wanted me to meet his sister, who he claimed was a Greek Goddess.

                   In late 1940, the entire 5^th Infantry was moved to do guard duty on the Panama Canal and the jungle area around the canal. After two years of this hot miserable assignment, the Greek and I were due for discharge, and we made an agreement to re-enlist for the Philippine Islands. The Greek came back to the States on a boat ahead of me and we were supposed to meet at Brooklyn Army Base, where we would re-enlist. When I arrived in Brooklyn, there was no Greek. I waited five days, called his home several times but could not contact him, so I decided to take my discharge and head for home. As it turned out, I know that I was so lucky that I lost the Greek, because had we re-enlisted for the Philippine Islands, there’s a good possibly that we would have become prisoners of Japan, and who knows what. As for the Greek, I never saw or heard from him again.

Bonaventure Cemetery

I was saving this post for Halloween. One of the trips we took on our mom/mom son/son (me, Lisa, Richie and Ryan) road trip earlier this year was to Savannah. Having read Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, I begged my three companions to let me visit Bonaventure Cemetery, which is a few miles out of town. Wow. There is something so breathtakingly beautiful and peaceful about this place.   It’s like walking through an art museum or botanical garden with its gorgeous statuary and iron gates.  Spanish moss drapes dramatically across tall oaks and magnolia trees, adding a mysterious and moody vibe.

Bonaventure Cemetery is full of contradictions.  First, it seems to shun its fame as a tourist destination and keep its old southern dignity in tact.  Also, there is a special comingling of death and life. Among the graves are lush greenery and flowers bursting with color.  Birds yell overhead, mocking the stillness and solitude.

Truly a haunting place to visit.  Happy Halloween.

Boardwalk Bench Encounter

Yesterday I was taking a nice long solo stroll on the boardwalk.  I was mildly surprised when, as I was passing by a bench, a lady said to me, “Hi, can I ask your opinion about something?” I nodded. She told her two companions, possibly her adult children, not to say a word.

“I have a job interview Wednesday,” she began. “I was debating whether I should color my gray hair.” Wow. My heart momentarily stopped. I wanted to help her. What was the appropriate answer here? She saw my hesitation and said, “Just give me your first instinct.”

“Be loud and proud,” I said. “You’re beautiful as you are and that will come through on Wednesday.” She beamed; sat a little straighter and said to her bench mates, “see, I told you.”

I relayed this story to a few people and they said, “I hope you said the right thing; after all, it’s a job interview.” To my mind, the right thing is her being comfortable in her own skin (and hair).  I’d be just as supportive if she wanted to go the Miss Clairol route.  As a wise 13 year old said at her bat mitzvah, “be yourself; everyone else is already taken.”

Look for an uncomplicated smile…

If you look hard enough, the world is full of things that offer us a chance to stop and smile. Here are a few I ran into over the past few weeks:

Dog shopping for Halloween decorations.  Need I say more?

Is it my imagination or is this praying mantis looking at me?

Here’s a bride literally getting her feet wet.

Be on the lookout for the simple, beautiful things in this world and remember the words of Confucius:  “Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.”

Wait, what?

We have a beautiful young person in our family who invariably says, “wait… what?” when she doesn’t quite understand something and needs clarification.

I’ve had a few “wait, what” moments this past week.

Are they really putting Christmas stuff out in early October?

I’m always nervous when my GPS tells me to make a u-turn. Wait. You just directed me here. What?

It was a beautiful October day, but it seemed so contrary to see the mums and corn stalk on the boardwalk with the volleyball net and a packed beach in the background.

It's good to know that the universe has a sense of humor.

Almost Quit Guitar

I thought about quitting guitar. I started taking lessons seven or eight months ago. I’m still slow and pretty bad. I hit a lot of wrong notes. I’m not a natural. My rhythm is off.  My timing is atrocious. Did I mention that I’m on Book I, probably with a lot of seven year olds?

I love it.

In honor of Steve Jobs, I think I’ll stay foolish.

Make Me Smile...

I love the precision and playfulness the trash men demonstrated in their can stacking here. Why not make the most of your job?

Is there anything more fun than a little boy chasing sea gulls?

My husband says his dirt bike is a beast, but did he mean a giraffe? Look at this shadow. 

I love the simple things every day that make me smile. Please share!

One Two Knock-Out Punch Bowl

While browsing in the thrift store last week, I noticed a proliferation of punch bowls.  Back in the day, every chic hostess graced her buffet table with a grand punch bowl set.  What happened over the years to relegate it to the bottom shelf in a body bag?

As much as I appreciate the appeal of the punch bowl and my nostalgia over grandma’s sherbet ginger ale concoction, I can understand the punch bowl graveyard I encountered.  First of all, who has the space to warehouse this delicate monstrosity? And, if one of the twelve cups gets broken, will you ever be able to replace it? Not to mention the inevitable ladle sloshing that occurs commonly with spiked punch.

Interestingly enough, in some circles, punch bowls are making a comeback. Trendy cocktail lounges all over the country are offering happy hours featuring punch bowls that serve as a sort of communal “water cooler” where partygoers congregate.  If you want to beat ‘em to the punch, I know where you can pick up some punch bowls on the cheap.

Wreath In, Wreath Out

Nothing says “season change” like the wreath switch.  As one season yields to another, this ritual tells us that it’s time to embrace the transformation in the air.  I admit I usually follow the lead of my neighbor, whose front door is always impeccably dressed and on time to welcome the changing weather.

The switch is always bittersweet. There’s no turning back once you pluck the wreath from your front door and tuck it away in the attic.  It’s the ancient process of loss and renewal played out on doors all over the world. Come winter, spring, summer, or autumn, I’ll keep changing with the seasons – with a little visual reminder from my neighbor, that is.

Life is Good (and Imperfect)

As I was browsing in TJ Maxx the other day, I took delight in finding this imperfect Life Is Good imprint. It got me thinking how sometimes the flawed things in life are actually the best.  A crooked but sincere smile, a rainy day, the Leaning Tower of Pisa…

I love the irony of the cup and I may just run back to get it.  It will give me a chuckle every morning to drink to the mysterious beauty of imperfection.  Hmmmm…I wonder if they’ll give me a discount.

Watching Us Like a Hawk

My daughter, Gigi, and I were in the kitchen last Saturday morning when we spotted a giant hawk landing on our neighbor’s roof.  We were a little stunned when it dropped something out of its mouth and we watched in disbelief as a dazed squirrel hobbled through the yard. Needless to say, we both lost our appetite. But, we couldn’t deny that we were in awe at the sheer magnificence of nature right out our suburban window. 

Later in the day, at Gigi’s field hockey game, the hawk made another appearance, swooping down and startling the other team’s goalie.  (Too bad we missed a scoring opportunity).  Then, after dinner, we were taking a drive and spotted him again on another roof in town.  Where was a telephoto lens when you needed one?  Anyway, I felt like it was a good omen to see this beautiful creature three times in one day. And I couldn’t help thinking what a lucky day it was for that squirrel.

What's in Your Closet?

My friend, Sue, is starting a job as a Career Coach and sent out an email plea for gently used clothing donations.  As I scoured my closet for blazers and sensible pumps, I ran into an item I haven’t thought about in a long time.  My overalls. Yes, my denim overalls that I bought when I was 14.

Back then, it was all the rage to adorn our overalls with hand embroidery. Monarch butterflies were big in the imagination of a carefree teenager.

As you can see, I didn’t quite finish these flowers.  Who knows at what point I put down my embroidery needle forever.

Somehow, over all these years, I could never quite send my overalls to the goodwill pile. I guess I have a sentimental attachment to them since they accompanied me through the ups and downs of high school, my marriage, the birth of my three kids, and a move overseas and back.  Although they occupy a space in the deep recesses of my closet, just knowing they’re there makes me happy.

Signs that speak to me….

I drove by a bus stop in Barrington and saw this poster for the past month. I made a mental note to stop yesterday and take a photo, but, as fate would have it, it was gone by the time I arrived. I quickly searched the Internet and found another copy because it’s worth sharing. What an extraordinary man to break through the barrier of baseball and to be such a stunning example of a human being.  In his words, “There's not an American in this country free until every one of us is free.”

A shop in Italy boasted that red chili peppers could increase blood flow and consequently one’s mojo …

 And finally, here's a photo (in a restaurant in Haddonfield) where the homeless man cuts to the chase with his sign. Sad, but his sense of humor and honesty probably made him lots of cash.

When a sign speaks to me, I take its picture and do my best to carry on the conversation.

Abandoned Love

I love to take the back ways.  I don’t know why, but there’s just something about abandoned buildings that evoke strong feelings in me.  They are so mysterious, sad, strange, romantic, sinister…

Was this once a thriving hotel or restaurant? What caused its decline? Why didn’t someone knock it down? Who boarded up the windows?

Schools, especially, seem creepy.  You can almost hear the voices of schoolchildren at recess …

I will be sad if they ever knock this old factory down. Think how she once probably stood strong and employed hundreds of people. Maybe someone will figure out a way to reinvent her and make her proud and robust again...

I hope all these buildings eventually find new life, but in the mean time, I’ll appreciate their haunting beauty.

Remains of the Beach Day

Coming onto the beach a few weeks ago, I noticed that there were always broken chairs and umbrellas sitting by the trash cans. It seemed such a monumental waste.  I wondered if someone (aka my daughter) could turn all this trash into treasure somehow.

 I talked to the guys collecting the refuse and they told me it was a great idea (if only to lighten their load).  They said, “this ain’t nothin’ lady, we come by here twice a day and fill the truck.”

So enter mom last Sunday morning at 6am on the beach with a pair of scissors. I tried to beat the guys with the truck.

My daughter examined my stash, hosed the sand off, tossed it in the washing machine and began creating. It’s just a start, but here are a few examples of what she produced by Sunday afternoon.  It’s one way to reuse, reduce, recycle, rethink and breathe new life into beach debris.

  

Take it as a Good Sign

I can appreciate a funny sign. It’s always good if it makes you do a double take.

Or sends a sweet message...

Or just plain confuses you! (This is in Beijing, China). I still don’t know what they’re trying to tell people. No explosive briefcases?

So, I’ll keep my eyes peeled for interesting signs and keep you posted!