Friday, May 02, 2008
Thank you Scott and Fred.
The rose garden is starting to break out. Every bush has buds.
Scott and Fred lived a house down from us. They were a fun couple and had the best interior decorating taste of anyone, gay or straight, I've ever met (and that's saying a *lot* I have some friends that EXCEL at interior decorating). We'd go over for parties and I'd take some time to just walk around the rooms and make mental notes and drool.
They collected roses. Their front, side and back yards were like one huge, incredible rose garden. During the bloom seasons, it was like their house was on the Garden Club tour. People stopped to take pictures, talk to Scott or Fred (whoever happened to be outside tending) about the roses.
They could tell you the name and history of each rose. It was incredible.
I got hooked, but not because I particularly liked roses - I really do not care for the fragrance associated with most roses (I prefer the way Carnations smell), and most rose gardens I'd seen seemed scraggly, ill tended affairs that looked thorny and prissy.
What turned the corner for me was the way Scott and Fred enjoyed their roses. The blooms were not left to die on the stem - (well, quite a few did live a healthy life on the stem for all who drove or walked by to enjoy) - but they cut them and FILLED their home with them. Lovely silver, lead crystal, porcelain or glass - bowls, vases, pitchers were filled (stuffed) with blooms either of the same color or varying colors - all over the house. It was glorious!
I realized that the flowers didn't have to be stuffy, thorny, raggedy bushes to bloom and then die on the vine (like my grandmothers garden roses), I could cut them! arrange them! fill my house with flowers!
My garden isn't near big enough to do that - yet. I do let some bloom and die on the vine, but I don't hesitate to bring some inside, give them to friends, stop and smell them where ever they are.
Scott and Fred moved away and took most of their roses with them. They also gave some to the Garden club, left some for the people who bought their house (I think it was in the contract!), and gave some to friends.
Mary Rose (see photo above and previous post) was my gift from Scott and Fred.
Thanks again you guys. We miss you.
This is "Blue Girl", A hybrid tea.
Isn't she beautiful?
Everything's coming up ... Roses!
Friday, March 07, 2008
Colorful, Complex and Headstrong
We have our first rose of the season:
Mary Rose
An Heirloom Old English Rose named for Henry the VIII's flagship, "The Mary Rose"
- which was named for his favorite sister, Princess Mary Rose Tudor, Queen of France and Duchess of Suffolk.
Mary Rose Tudor, Duchess of Suffolk and Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk.
A little-known royal, she was every bit as colorful, complex and headstrong as her brother
Although the rose was named for the boat, it fits the girl as well.
Mary Rose
An Heirloom Old English Rose named for Henry the VIII's flagship, "The Mary Rose"
- which was named for his favorite sister, Princess Mary Rose Tudor, Queen of France and Duchess of Suffolk.
Mary Rose Tudor, Duchess of Suffolk and Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk.
A little-known royal, she was every bit as colorful, complex and headstrong as her brother
Although the rose was named for the boat, it fits the girl as well.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Project Dancewear
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Sew Many Projects, Sew Little Time
I sew.
And Mamaw didn't live to see it.
Yes, I have one of those "grew up watching my grandmother sew, and later became hooked myself ..." stories. (it's ubiquitous, same as, "I've been taking ballet since I was 5 years old ...")
I haunt all the blogs; "The Sewing Divas", "Gorgeous Things", "BeSewStylish", "Pattern Review" and other sites that post wonderful examples of their 'art' - because even making a nice fitting blouse IS an art. Great sources of inspiration.
So for my first picture post of my own projects, I'll post what I made today;
It's the top in Simplicity Pattern # 4273
(the hem isn't that messy - it's the way it's hanging. No, really.)
It was fairly easy to make. I say "fairly" because I'm a beginner and everything is difficult at this point. Mamaw could've made it in a couple of hours. It took me most of this Sunday.
Here's a tote bag I made my cousin a couple of weeks ago;
It's the LazyGirl "With Love" pattern - free on the lazygirl.com website.
I have a ton of that dragonfly fabric. It's also going on a rocking chair I'm re-upholstering.
When I figure out how to re-upholster.
Here's a shawl I made myself out of some of that super cuddly fleece;
It was a 'no-sew' project. Fleece it great that way. I just marked out the dimensions and cut.
I love the peach color. I also made a fringed scarf from the left over fabric.
Mamaw always had a designated 'sewing room' in the house. She'd set up her sewing machine, her cutting table, hang thread boards, - and plug in a TV set so she could watch her 'stories' while she sewed.
In the house on the Bay, the sewing room was in the lowest level of their big split level house. Papaw called it the 'basement' - but it had windows at ground level and Mamaw could look out over the Bay -and the canal at the side of the house. It was a pretty, cluttered, messy, sunny room and I loved it. She did too except when one hurricane pushed the Bay up so high it flooded the 'basement' and ruined just about everything in the room.
As I got older, she'd insist that I keep her company while she worked, showing me how to lay out the pattern on the fabric, how to cut it properly. Then as I got older it was my job to cut out the pattern, arrange it on the fabric, pin it, and cut the fabric. (that's how I got hooked for a while on 'All my Children' and 'General Hospital'). I don't remember that she ever insisted that I sew a garment to completion. I'd sew a straight seam, maybe.
Now I wish she had, and I wish I'd spent more time with her in that sewing room.
Isn't that always the case? Another ubiquitous story.
And Mamaw didn't live to see it.
Yes, I have one of those "grew up watching my grandmother sew, and later became hooked myself ..." stories. (it's ubiquitous, same as, "I've been taking ballet since I was 5 years old ...")
I haunt all the blogs; "The Sewing Divas", "Gorgeous Things", "BeSewStylish", "Pattern Review" and other sites that post wonderful examples of their 'art' - because even making a nice fitting blouse IS an art. Great sources of inspiration.
So for my first picture post of my own projects, I'll post what I made today;
It's the top in Simplicity Pattern # 4273
(the hem isn't that messy - it's the way it's hanging. No, really.)
It was fairly easy to make. I say "fairly" because I'm a beginner and everything is difficult at this point. Mamaw could've made it in a couple of hours. It took me most of this Sunday.
Here's a tote bag I made my cousin a couple of weeks ago;
It's the LazyGirl "With Love" pattern - free on the lazygirl.com website.
I have a ton of that dragonfly fabric. It's also going on a rocking chair I'm re-upholstering.
When I figure out how to re-upholster.
Here's a shawl I made myself out of some of that super cuddly fleece;
It was a 'no-sew' project. Fleece it great that way. I just marked out the dimensions and cut.
I love the peach color. I also made a fringed scarf from the left over fabric.
Mamaw always had a designated 'sewing room' in the house. She'd set up her sewing machine, her cutting table, hang thread boards, - and plug in a TV set so she could watch her 'stories' while she sewed.
In the house on the Bay, the sewing room was in the lowest level of their big split level house. Papaw called it the 'basement' - but it had windows at ground level and Mamaw could look out over the Bay -and the canal at the side of the house. It was a pretty, cluttered, messy, sunny room and I loved it. She did too except when one hurricane pushed the Bay up so high it flooded the 'basement' and ruined just about everything in the room.
As I got older, she'd insist that I keep her company while she worked, showing me how to lay out the pattern on the fabric, how to cut it properly. Then as I got older it was my job to cut out the pattern, arrange it on the fabric, pin it, and cut the fabric. (that's how I got hooked for a while on 'All my Children' and 'General Hospital'). I don't remember that she ever insisted that I sew a garment to completion. I'd sew a straight seam, maybe.
Now I wish she had, and I wish I'd spent more time with her in that sewing room.
Isn't that always the case? Another ubiquitous story.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Baby needs a new pair of shoes
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
Gifts
Kim left me a bottle of 1992 Dom Perignon.
Along with a nice note thanking me for letting them use the apartment and telling me what a great time they had in the city over the weekend.
When I was in law school I commuted every week. 200 miles home after classes ended on Friday afternoon, and 200 miles back to school on Sunday night. That left my little uptown New Orleans apartment empty almost every weekend. My friends had an open invitation to use it free of charge any weekend I wasn't there.
Most would leave a small "thank you" token. Dana, my Tallahassee friend, left a VooDoo doll. (I think I was grumbling a lot about my Contracts professor). Connie left the most prized beads from her Mardi Gras crew.
I was thrilled and a little in awe of Kim's gift. I'd never had "Dom" - but had heard of it. At over $100. a bottle it was never in my realm of affordability and I considered it (still do) too much of an extravagance.
Her note suggested I should pop the bottle when I graduated or when I passed the Bar.
At the time I thought, "I certainly will!"
I was (and am) proud of myself for finishing law school (especially given the whole commuting difficulties). It was challenging and humbling and thrilling and one of the most engaging and thought provoking things I've ever done.
For graduation my dad and step-mom flew all the way from San Francisco. My DH and kids were there. I was so happy and beaming like the moon!
But I didn't pop that bottle of Dom.
It just didn't seem like the right time.
Maybe it was because the Bar Exam was looming. A huge hump to get over before my "new future" could start.
For whatever reason the bottle stayed intact properly stored in it's box on it's side on our wine rack.
Maybe when (if?) I pass the Bar.
The Bar Exam was a bitch. For a month I studied every day from sun-up to sun-down. My firm gave me leave for the whole month to study. I took two Bar Exam review courses. DH drove me down to Tampa to take the exam and I studied the whole way. Couldn't sleep both nights of the exam. When it was over I slept for 12 hours.
Passed on the first try with flying colors. Killed the Florida portion of the exam, did very well on the multi-state portion. I was so relieved and thrilled when I saw those scores post I shut the door to my office and cried. Friends and colleagues sent baskets and bouquets of flowers in congratulations.
And still that bottle stayed safe in our wine rack.
What's the deal? Still it just didn't seem like the right time. My heart wasn't in it. "We'll save it for when I have my first trial." I said.
It still wasn't right even after my first trial. "I only sat second chair." I reasoned. I'll open it when it's MY trial ... when I get a verdict in my favor ... when I get a "Guilty" verdict (after I changed jobs and was finally an Assistant State Attorney - which, I would've thought would have been time to pop that bottle too!) But none of those times was the right time.
This New Year's Eve was the right time.
I could say I have no idea why, but I think I may know.
Opening the bottle left me pondering why we celebrate on New Year's Eve.
Is it really a celebration of the anticipation of what's to come in the new year? Maybe, but I don't think so. I don't have a frame of reference to celebrate what may or may not happen. What I can be happy about is what *has* happened.
I think it was a culmination of everything. Overcoming personal "I'm not worthy" roadblocks and going to law school. Passing a difficult state bar exam on the first try. Getting a great job at a great firm. Eventually leaving the firm to be what I really wanted to be in the first place. And I'm still learning, but I think I was made to be in the courtroom. It's still a thrill every time I step up to the podium and say "[Begijn] for the State." While I'm not dancing with the Company, I made it on the Board of Directors and stay close to ballet. The kids are doing great - really great! DH and I are just fine. I've some really wonderful friends. We had a great Christmas with family. We made it through our first holiday season without a dear family member who is very missed.
It was wonderful. Smooth. Celebratory.
I'll call Kim tomorrow and tell her I finally opened that "Thank you" gift.
And tell her it was worth the wait.
Along with a nice note thanking me for letting them use the apartment and telling me what a great time they had in the city over the weekend.
When I was in law school I commuted every week. 200 miles home after classes ended on Friday afternoon, and 200 miles back to school on Sunday night. That left my little uptown New Orleans apartment empty almost every weekend. My friends had an open invitation to use it free of charge any weekend I wasn't there.
Most would leave a small "thank you" token. Dana, my Tallahassee friend, left a VooDoo doll. (I think I was grumbling a lot about my Contracts professor). Connie left the most prized beads from her Mardi Gras crew.
I was thrilled and a little in awe of Kim's gift. I'd never had "Dom" - but had heard of it. At over $100. a bottle it was never in my realm of affordability and I considered it (still do) too much of an extravagance.
Her note suggested I should pop the bottle when I graduated or when I passed the Bar.
At the time I thought, "I certainly will!"
I was (and am) proud of myself for finishing law school (especially given the whole commuting difficulties). It was challenging and humbling and thrilling and one of the most engaging and thought provoking things I've ever done.
For graduation my dad and step-mom flew all the way from San Francisco. My DH and kids were there. I was so happy and beaming like the moon!
But I didn't pop that bottle of Dom.
It just didn't seem like the right time.
Maybe it was because the Bar Exam was looming. A huge hump to get over before my "new future" could start.
For whatever reason the bottle stayed intact properly stored in it's box on it's side on our wine rack.
Maybe when (if?) I pass the Bar.
The Bar Exam was a bitch. For a month I studied every day from sun-up to sun-down. My firm gave me leave for the whole month to study. I took two Bar Exam review courses. DH drove me down to Tampa to take the exam and I studied the whole way. Couldn't sleep both nights of the exam. When it was over I slept for 12 hours.
Passed on the first try with flying colors. Killed the Florida portion of the exam, did very well on the multi-state portion. I was so relieved and thrilled when I saw those scores post I shut the door to my office and cried. Friends and colleagues sent baskets and bouquets of flowers in congratulations.
And still that bottle stayed safe in our wine rack.
What's the deal? Still it just didn't seem like the right time. My heart wasn't in it. "We'll save it for when I have my first trial." I said.
It still wasn't right even after my first trial. "I only sat second chair." I reasoned. I'll open it when it's MY trial ... when I get a verdict in my favor ... when I get a "Guilty" verdict (after I changed jobs and was finally an Assistant State Attorney - which, I would've thought would have been time to pop that bottle too!) But none of those times was the right time.
This New Year's Eve was the right time.
I could say I have no idea why, but I think I may know.
Opening the bottle left me pondering why we celebrate on New Year's Eve.
Is it really a celebration of the anticipation of what's to come in the new year? Maybe, but I don't think so. I don't have a frame of reference to celebrate what may or may not happen. What I can be happy about is what *has* happened.
I think it was a culmination of everything. Overcoming personal "I'm not worthy" roadblocks and going to law school. Passing a difficult state bar exam on the first try. Getting a great job at a great firm. Eventually leaving the firm to be what I really wanted to be in the first place. And I'm still learning, but I think I was made to be in the courtroom. It's still a thrill every time I step up to the podium and say "[Begijn] for the State." While I'm not dancing with the Company, I made it on the Board of Directors and stay close to ballet. The kids are doing great - really great! DH and I are just fine. I've some really wonderful friends. We had a great Christmas with family. We made it through our first holiday season without a dear family member who is very missed.
It was wonderful. Smooth. Celebratory.
I'll call Kim tomorrow and tell her I finally opened that "Thank you" gift.
And tell her it was worth the wait.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)