I haven't fallen in... yet

Hello, hello, -- I am upholstering this poor tattered chair -- the same one Talia is sitting on over there >>>> It desperately needs doing, don't you think?

It's the last big thing I have to do in the living room. (Hooray.)

The poor hideous chair has been hiding beneath a veil of canvas and who can blame it? This chair has had a long and checkered past -- and you wouldn't believe what was found within. Mail... rocks... spare change and curiously, the collar to a cat whose name we don't recognise belonging to a neighbor we never knew. (Having experienced one teenager in the house you learn to not press for answers to the hard questions.)


The hard part of upholstering, after selecting new fabric, is stripping off the old fabric. Sheesh -- this can take days.

While we're waiting for the end result I wanted to thank everyone for voting for my sweet Talia in the Bissell Sweeper SpokesPet Contest -- somehow she didn't win. Go figure. Still, she remains Queen Bee in my heart. And we'll just have to think up a different way to raise a few dollars for the no kill shelter my youngest niece rescues for. We so much Thank You, Thank You, Thank You.

Now, I am back to that upholstering thing. Ick. (It'll be lovely when it's done, It'll be lovely when it's done... this is my new mantra. It'll be lovely when it's done.) Ok, here's a peek at where this is going, but don't tell a living breathing soul, ok?



Back At It,
Jenny

What's not to like?

Some rooms come together in a flash... while others unfold bit by bit. That is so in the case of my dining room. I never thought of myself as a "formal dining room" kind of girl. In fact, quite the opposite -- up till now I'd considered myself more of the "mix-n-match" sort -- a couple of battered chairs, goblets from one era sidled up to various plates from another...

But I kept inheriting things... things I love... my mother's goblets and silver, my boyfriend's mother's linens... and then I acquired these plates, Franciscanware, Desert Rose. I've written about them before. Oh, how I love these plates. And they needed a place to be.

I looked and looked for china hutches... shelves, cabinets. Keeping the buffet was crucial, whether a hutch sat on it or shelves hung above it offered some wiggle room... but still, the answer did not come easy. The search was like being stuck in the Faeiry Tale of the Three Bears -- what I found were shelves and cabinets that were too big, too small, too glitzy, too shabby... nothing was just right... till I started poking around in my workshop where I have a stash of spindles. What I thought was that a set of shelves suported on spindles would be just right And then the process continued -- some spindles where too long... too short... too delicate.

Briefly I considered making the spindles myself. I said "briefly".

Finally it struck me that the woodworking store, Rockler, might be just the ticket. And it was -- it wasn't an easy fix -- their were strill length issues and it took several trips and a special order, but finally the picture in my head is now hanging on my wall.


My brother tells me that this open cabinet is known as a Welsh Dresser. I've since looked it up; Welsh Dressers generally feature open cabinets or shelves that sit on the buffet, as if attached. Strictly speaking mine isn't really like any Welsh Dresser I've ever seen... but whatever it's called, it's this cabinet, these dishes, this formal room that feels like home. Who knew?

Vote for Talia!!!!

Bissell Sweeper is looking for a new "Spokespet" and Talia wants to win! Vote over there>>>>


That is Talia, above and featured on the right>>>>, on the tattered blue chair. If ever there was a dog in need of a sweeper to pick up the white hair trail she leaves behind it is Talia. Oh, but she is such a dear thing it is really hard to mind a few million dog hairs here and there.
(Talia's not so fond of visitors -- particularly not cute besweatered ones like the spring-footed Miss Lucy.)

Talia is a rescue puppy acquired entirely by accident, as most rescue puppies are. I was at the vet's office with a foster dog when I happened to admire a deeply cute fuzzy puppy in the waiting room. I mentioned to his owner howe much I'd always wanted a long-haired pup just his size. The owner said she was supposed to have gotten only the one... but she couldn't leave the runt behind. From her coat she withdrew the very tiny sibling of the fuzzy dog I'd been admiring. "The conditions they were living in were criminal. No shelter, not even a blanket to lay on in all this snow."


She said there was another puppy left... in need of a home...

"I'll take it," I said, on the spot, sight unseen.

We made arrangements -- the puppies were owned and neglected by a co-worker of her husband. The transfer was made and I brought her home two days later.

Talia was then five months old, completely unsocialized, untrained, undisciplined. All she had going for her was cute, which goes a long way. The first night I brought her home she sat on my lap for four hours while the foster dog and my own dog took turns sniffing her. All over, back and forth, sniff, sniff, sniff. She has been my constant companion ever since.

Don't let the hard luck story fool you -- she's working it for all she's worth -- for all the steak and snuggles she can get her paws on.


What she most reminds me of now is a joyful three-year-old child. Talia spins and dips and twirls. She seemingly giggles. She snaps at the cat so's the cat will smack back -- it's a game they play. Talia really is a rags-to-richs girl and now she wants to be the Spokespet for a vacuum cleaner company -- makes sense to me.

Talia needs your vote -- the first listing on the right features a highlighted (purple) link to vote for Talia -- just click the link and vote for Talia.

I Won, I Won, I Won!!!

Some weeks back The Slipcover Diva, Angie, held a drawing -- the prize being a lovely-exquisite-beautiful custom silk screen.

Be still my heart, I WON!!


And look, there are TWO!!!


For one thing I am thrilled -- they are so beautiful. For another thing, I haven't yet decided what to do with them... make pillows, frame them? Add fringe? Put them on the bed? The sofa?

It hasn't quite come to me yet... but soon -- I will get an image in my head of the right fabrics, the right trims, the right place. What to do, what to do?

For now I am content to simply gaze at them... and consider the possibilities.

One thing that keeps coming to mind is that I want to learn how to silk screen too.

Does it take you awhile to figure out how components should go into place? Or do you just know, right away, no hesitations?

(I'm thinking plaid... or paisley... I'm thinking I will think it out again.)

Thank you, Angie -- I am so honored and humbled to have a piece of your art for my very own.

An Entertainment of 6's

I've been tagged, by Teresa otherwise Blissfully known as Aunt T. This one is fun and easy and quick.
1. Go to your Picture Folder on your computer or wherever you store pictures.
2. Go to the 6th Folder, then pick the 6th picture in that folder.
3. Post that picture on your blog and the story that goes along with the picture.
4. Tag 6 other people that you know or don’t know to do the same thing and leave a comment on their blog or an e-mail letting them know you chose them.


These were fun -- it was my first forray into absolute nonsense. (Despite my being a big fan of nonsense, mind you, I don't often allow myself to indulge for no reason... it's German or midwestern or just a character flaw on my part that I am trying to shake.)

I was learning to make ribbon flowers, figuring out which type of ribbon works best, though I had no idea what I'd do with them. At about the same time I acquired dozens of buttons and yards and yards and yards of vintage seam binding from the stash of my boyfriend's mom. Trust me, Hell will freeze over before I ever bind a seam. Being a "No-nonsense" type is not the same as being a "stickler". Besides this seam binding is too pretty to hide -- it needs to come out in the open and shine, shine, shine. So there we go - by combining the two, the lengths of cheery seam binding with all the lovely ribbon poppies I could end up with bracelets and chokers. This photo depicts the bracelets -- I like them quite a lot.

Now I am going to tag 6:

Angie
Tami
Francie
KT
Jean
Vallen

Snow Day

There's something to be said for Snow Days. Four inches of fluffy white treachery threatening, promising to keep you indoors all the live-long day... to watch movies, read trashy novels, bake cookies, pull the covers up to your chin.


With Snow Days all bets are off. Cute shoes give way to clunky boots, the Teacher Conference guaranteed to go badly gets canceled, hopefully to be forgotten forever. The check that's supposed to be in the mail will get mailed tomorrow or the day after.

Meanwhile we'll muddle through, we'll make it somehow.
We'll improvise.

Snow Days, to my mind, are meant for reflection. To sit off to the sidelines and ponder the course we are on.. is this the right one? Should we change paths... or simply adjust this one. At the very least Snow Days are meant to sit, to think, to breath quietly, in and out.


I like to take inventory... or at least I like the time required to take inventory. I like to sit quietly and wonder if I am going the right way, doing the right thing. Is this the year I sell the house? Pull up stakes? Hitch a ride west? Submit paperwork for a master's degree in something? Join the circus? In the end it's always the same --I am a home body. I like to feather my nest, stay put, stay the course.

Oh, but Baby, it's cold outside; a Hot Toddy will do a body good.
Brrrrrrrrr

More of Jenny & Gordon's Magical Adventure

Are you ready for more Paris photos? This is truly the most magical city ever; if you aren't already planning a trip, real or imagined, I can only wonder why not?

These first few photos are from our cruise down the Seine which passes all the highlights beginning with Gordon's favorite, the Notre Dame.

Our cruise was timed to span daylight to dark to take advantage of the most spectacular views. And all the more romantic.

No doubt I was told the name of this spectacular statue, but there are literally hundreds of spectacular statues all over the city -- on top of buildings, beside buildings, and like this one which flanks St. Alexander Bridge. I refer to it as "The Pretty Bridge, i.e."Gordon, did you get a picture of the Pretty Bridge? Are you sure? Are we too far away? We aren't too close are we? I really want a picture of the pretty bridge."


"Are you sure you got it? I don't think you got it -- try again."


"But that was with a flash... are you sure you got it?" I don't think he got it... but it's such an exquisite bridge, white draped with gold garland flanked with pillars, dotted with statuary. Even if he'd gotten it, a picture could never be quite the same.

The Paris convention Center, taken here on the ground on the way to the cruise is a dazzling building with an enormous glass roof. You can see part of the roof behind the horse statues a couple of pictures up. The roof is so predominant that it became my landmark of choice, as in, "No, Sweetie, we haven't crossed the bridge yet... follow there's the glass dome -- that's where we're headed."


The most famous landmark of all, the Eiffel Tower, was glowing a rich otherworldly, jaw-dropping blue after dark.



One place you could not see the glass dome (or the Eiffel Tower) was from the St. Ouen Puces (flea market). Located in the gritty underbelly of Paris, it felt like we'd taken the Metro to a world apart. The area surrounding the flea market was run down and dirty, yet you walk down the street to vendor stalls that feature pricely bronze and marble statues, crystal chandeliers, antique furniture. Exquisite things are settled next to junk, trash is piled beside treasures.

Most items were far far too expensive to contemplate... and frankly many of them were just too big. There was one ceramic rabbit soup tourrine that called to me... In the end I opted to not fret over a china bunny for the rest of the trip.

I did pick up a few pieces of lace -- nothing very remarkable about it other than the lady who owned the stall seemed kind... and desperate.

This inventive fellow seranaded the lunch crowd. He played Frank Sinatra tunes before passing his leather purse in lieu of a hat.

More inventive still is this guy who has made a strolling grill right there in his shopping cart. Nestled inside the cart is a charcoal stove. A wire wrack is suspended over the cart -- on that wire wrack are a dozen or so ears of corn cooking away. This is especially for the American tourists -- Europeans don't much fancy corn... it's mostly reserved as pig food.

This shot was irresistable -- after several days in Paris, after the flea market and just before we were to leave, it seemed wise to run a couple of loads of laundry. It looks like most American laudromats -- rather than putting coins in the machine of your choice, the coins are deposited in a single repository (there on the left) and you push the number of the machine you want to run.


And here we are in the courtyard of our hotel dining on bits of fruit and cheese, meats and wines, breads and crackers and a pastry or two gathered fron shops and markets for our dinner. This is how we ended most of our days in Paris. (Much as I don't look happy in this picture, fact is, I really really was -- the Chinese tourist who snapped this shot happened to get me at a bad moment. Oops.)