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Tuesday, August 14, 2012

on happiness and waiting for things you want

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I’m going to surprise you.

You might think today’s post is about my latest heart-throbbing find, the four vintage, Chippendale chairs I recently discovered in the garage of a local antique dealer. And how happy it felt to finally cross them off my “wish” list because you won’t believe how long I’ve been waiting to find these chairs!

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But today’s post is NOT about these cool additions to my home. It’s actually about the topic of waiting and doing without something, which is sort of about decorating and sort of about happiness.

And I’m curious about you.

What kind of decorator are you?

Are you one of those driven people that tackles one room-at-a-time, and hits all the stores and plows through all the catalogs and doesn’t stop until the very last picture is hanging in that one empty spot? And your room is completely done?

Or…are you…

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… someone who likes to collect your pieces like I do… slowly, over time. Sure, some of it is budget, and about being a thrifty shopper. But mostly it’s about your personality, and enjoying the thrill of a good hunt.

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Maybe you’re like me, with a wish list you keep somewhere in the back of your mind. And you toss that “thing-you-want,” into the creative stew going on inside your head. And it keeps simmering in there, with the color themes and projects you’re adding and subtracting. And then one day you happen to be walking through a crowded shop or a sunny antique faire, and voila! There it is. Unbelievable. The perfect piece for that one spot in your house, that you’ve been waiting for!

Just like these two Chippendale chairs at the end of my dining table.

Ahhh…how exhilarating does that feel?

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Recently, I read an interview with Rachel Ashwell, the creator of Shabby Chic, who said that one of her pet peeves is, “people being too quick to complete the decorating process.” That’s because she likes to surround herself with meaningful pieces that reflect who she is, and things she absolutely loves, that accumulate over time.

And while I see her point, I would never call it a pet peeve. Because everyone’s different, and they should do what feels right for them. Personally, I’m happy for you. If you want to call in a professional and complete your room in thirty days, great.

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But here’s the old happiness question. It’s something I thought about when I read, I Shop Less When I Blog Less over at Postmodern Hostess.

Is there always that one-more-thing you need to buy, or one more thing you have to be, before you can be content?

What happens after you rush around like a mad woman buying all your coordinating furnishings and artwork and even books, to fill up your new bookshelves, and the whole room is completed. Whew, done.

How do you feel when you stop?

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Take me for instance. I’m always on-the-look-out for something, and for a long time, it happened to be a couple Chippendale chairs. And in my mind, my dining set always felt a bit unfinished without them.

Only here’s the question I need to ask myself, as a DIYer and as a person: “Is is OK for my house-room-project to be unfinished, even unattractive for awhile? Or—does it make me feel too uncomfortable, imperfect?

Because, there’s nothing wrong with wanting things, it’s the relationship we have with our things that becomes a slippery slope.

Does that make sense? Because…

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It’s when you don’t have that One thing you want….

and you can still say, “I like myself and I feel happy right now, even though my house isn’t done, or I haven’t lost my weight yet, or found a job that I really love; it’s when you can still be happy, even when there are empty spots in your life, just waiting to be filled …

That’s what’s important

Waiting and going without something we want, is hard. It requires that we be OK in our own skin. But it can also help us grow.

Now. Back to these darn chairs. And yes, I realize I could’ve bought them brand new, and ended the whole waiting thing, But personally, I prefer old, slightly scuffed-up chairs, that I stumble on at a great price.

Objects that I still need to paint white.

Maybe. I think (Decisions, decisions).

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BHG.com

In the meantime, isn’t it funny how home decorating is a lot like Life?

The process of creating a home teaches us how to deal with the uncomfortable parts of living, of wanting things and waiting for them, and that yucky feeling of incompleteness. .

And it keeps us asking the right questions about our possessions.

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via bitsotruth.blogspot.com


Today, you have it all. I really hope you enjoy it .

xoxo.

Leslie

p.s. You can read about my latest (unfinished) foyer project right HERE…. the good news, it’s almost done. ..

I’ll be linking up at these parties:

 

 

Friday, August 10, 2012

four signs of a REAL friend…

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My sweet friend Ashley over at Domestic Fashionista, has launched a weekly series on gratitude and I’m linking up because personally, I think practicing gratitude is a bit like exercise. I know it’s good for me, plus-- I always feel so much better after I do it. And it’s not my imagination.

Did you know that research has confirmed that practicing gratitude on a regular basis actually activates positive emotion centers in the brain? Yes, this means taking time to appreciate the little (and big) things in our lives actually creates positive feelings that weren’t there before. Isn’t that nice to know?

So here it goes. Today I’m thankful to have two amazing friends in my life, who recently gave me a wonderful birthday gift.

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They took me to a Spa, where we each got luxurious facials and afterwards, we went out to lunch and we talked for hours…about Life. About small stuff and bigger things. Aging and kids and colleges and relationships. We tossed around our impressions and shared topics that made us shake our heads..and keep talking.

And afterwards, I examined just what it was, that I valued about these friendships. And I came up with…

Four signs of a true friend.

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1. Real friends are there, in good times and bad.

I’m grateful to have dear friends whom I could call at the drop of a hat, for help. Over the years, one of us has become the official Halloween bartender, another one is the catering guru and one of us is the party planner (geez, can you guess who I am?). These are the good times.

When bad things happen, you’re just there.

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2. Real friends shun perfection

It’s not that we don’t love to look at those gorgeous images on the cover of fashion magazines; or plow through the latest Traditional Home magazine and all those tastefully decorated rooms. It’s dreamy stuff, only we know it’s not real life. Because in real life, there’s stretch marks and dirty dishes left in the sink by your teenager. And school schedules and work stress and high cholesterol and aging parents, and husbands who need us, and the continual juggling act between all of our roles…

This is the stuff that exposes the deeper facets of our personalities, our quirky flaws, our soft hearts.

The problem with women who brag incessantly about their perfect kids, their latest achievements, and ONLY share the glossy details of their wonderful lives

is that it’s fatally uninteresting. And unreal.

And while I listen and smile politely…

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I’m mentally checking them off my posse list. Not that they’d want to be included, after all, I’m more of a Meryl or Diane kind-of-gal. Give me an interesting-wonderfully neurotic girlfriend who shows her flaws--agonizes and laughs over them---and I’ll show you my shiny new friend…

 

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via anais nin

3. Real friends are like mermaids (I love this one)

Depth is not a scary thing with real friends. That’s because there aren’t any pretenses or smiley facades to keep up, so you can show the other person the tender side of your story. You know, the part you don’t want everyone to know. Real friends can empty out their private thoughts over a cup of coffee, and know whatever comes tumbling out will not be judged. Because in the mermaid-world, there’s only one thing worse than being judged, and it’s being shallow.

4. Real friends listen as much as they share

Have you ever met someone who talked about herself the entire time without ever asking you about yourself, your kids, or your life?  I admit, I’m always mystified by someone like this. And I think it gets worse in high school, come SAT scores and college time. But this kind of self- absorption is one thing that never happens when you’re with a true friend, because no matter what’s happening in her own life, a real friend remembers your stuff.  She already knows about your crazy boss, and your husband’s new job, and your daughter’s struggles. And she remembers to ask.

She just does.

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via weheartit.com

 Today, I’m grateful to have such kindness in my life.

 


Did you relate to any of this?

I’d love to hear.

Leslie

also linking up at:

http://www.atthepicketfence.com/2012/08/its-inspiration-friday-no-77welcome.html

http://savvysouthernstyle.blogspot.com/2012/08/wow-us-wednesdays-78.html

http://commonground-debrasvintagedesigns.blogspot.com/2012/08/vintage-inspiration-100-salvage-dior.html

http://nominimalisthere.blogspot.com/2012/08/open-house-party_8.html 

 

 

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Tuesday, August 7, 2012

our summer entertainment picks…

In our house we call it “family night.” Over the years, its become a loose term for simply being together and hanging out as a family. We started it when the boys were little, as a way of carving out time from sports and friends and social obligations, but the best part is,  it actually stuck. When life gets crazy, we all look forward to reconnecting this way.

What do we do? Whatever sounds fun. Movies are a big thing for us, we love seeing them and afterwards, we like to critique them. And although we’re fans of quirky, independent movies, we also see a lot of action movies. The big-releases.

In fact, I like to joke that there’s not a testosterone filled violent-action-thriller- shoot-em-up-movie that I haven’t seen. And no. It’s not that I love that genre. It’s because I live in a house with males that do..

So wherever they go, I go. After all…

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It’s not to say that we don’t see romance when it’s well done. We all agree that my personal favorite, Pride and Prejudice is pretty amazing. And everyone loved 500 days of Summer and Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris too.

 But generally, the guys prefer romantic comedies that are heavy on the comedy like, Forgetting Sarah Marshall, and Just Friends. Movies with lots of hilarious moments and guys like Seth Rogen, Ben Stiller, Jason Segel, and Ryan Reynolds..

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And everyone in my house absolutely loves Will Ferrell movies. Me? Not so much.

But this summer, we all liked….

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The Amazing Spider-man

Ok. I liked it more than they did. And personally, I thought Andrew Garfield’s Spider-man was so much better than Toby Maguire. He was more believable to me. And I loved these two actors together, thought they had real chemistry and were so cute!

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The Dark Knight Rises

Batman lived up to everyone’s expectations, although I admit I closed my eyes during some of the violence. I’ve always thought that after Christian Bale took over the role, Batman became more masculine and cool..although I wanted him to end up with Katie Holmes! Darn that Tom Cruise.

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The News Room

And here’s our latest favorite pick for television. This summer we’ve become fans of The News Room. Yes, I’m aware that Aaron Sorkin’s new HBO show has been attacked for his condescending need to educate the masses among many other things, 

but we enjoy current events and politics in our home and it’s fun to see it played out in a recreated newsroom. There’s lots of fast-paced banter, plus I like Jeff Daniel’s tirades.

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And of course, this summer we’ve been riveted by The Olympics.

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We watched all the swimming…

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and beach volleyball with Misty May and Kerri Walsh …

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men and women’s gymnastics…

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and we were so happy to see Andy Murray win…

How about you? What have you been watching? 


xoxo

Leslie

 

Monday, August 6, 2012

reunited…

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via erikadotsonphotography.com

This past weekend I attended a fiftieth birthday party for my cousin Liz. It was one of those whooping and hollerin’ country western parties that had a DJ blasting dance tunes  under twinkling white lights, plenty of chilled beer and hearty food, and tables covered in checkered tablecloths and filled with cousins and family.

It was a night with unexpected discoveries, gifts in the form of real people like Janet, one of my first loyal blog readers, who floored me with her gregarious personality. And Lori, who touched me in a heartfelt conversation about Life. And later, there was happiness for Andrea and her new beginning.

And of course, there was the birthday girl. The sensitive, kind, witty, Lizzie, who has the gift of plowing through superficial small-talk and getting to the heart of things in the matter of minutes.

It seemed like everywhere I turned, there was an engrossing conversation waiting to happen because it had been a while since I’d seen my cousins. Yes, we had been together at the hospital, and later at Grandma’s funeral, but funerals don’t have the sound of cowboy boots clicking on a wooden dance floor. Funerals don’t have a classic Bee Gees song blasting in the summer air, that can magically erase lines off your face and propel you back in Time, so that you’re suddenly...

staring at those steely, family bonds that were there at the beginning.

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I think it’s a fascinating experience that happens with cousins. No matter how many years go by, and how many miles we travel during our lives, we’re forever connected by wispy memories that contain childhood pieces of us, precious gems from our past. And we’re linked by bloodlines to grandparents that we each knew from different angles. And loved in our own private ways.

I had this thought when I passed through Andrea’s hallway and glimpsed Papa’s picture hanging in her new home. “Hey, you’ve got that same picture of Pop, in your house, don’t you?” my brother asked me.

And I had nodded, as I glanced wistfully at his photo. Papa is here too, I thought, because of course, we shared him.

And later, when Andrea whispered how cute Auntie Jo-Jo looked in her red cowboy boots, I smiled back. Because we share Jo-Jo. She’s my Mom and her Auntie.

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Funny how the memory works.

Sometimes it only takes a simple photo or a pair of red cowboy boots to remind us of the powerful bonds that are always there, tucked safely away in our heart.

 


oxox,

Leslie

 

 

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Thursday, August 2, 2012

Opps! I tried and failed…

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via mixandchic.com

Oh my goodness.

I guess it had to happen. Eventually. And to think, we started out so well, that little brown chest and I, ….I truly thought it would work out. After all, I had such brilliant plans for this entryway piece, who would’ve suspected a rebellion? A flat-out rejection that put me in my place with a clear message, “No way lady, it ain’t happening. Not with me.”

Tsk. Tsk. After all the time I put into it too. Oh well. In the spirit of keeping it real, I’m here today to share a failed project. You can offer your advice too, feel free. But first, a little history. Do you remember my recent post on My foyer?

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I decided I needed a jolt of color to liven things up at my door, and I was in the process of looking for the right rug with a geometric pattern.

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I loved this entryway that I’d pinned from MixandChic.com some time ago, especially the touches of red everywhere. Only I haven’t been able to find a rug. And because I’m the type to buy paint first, and ask questions later, I decided what the heck.

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I’d transform my plain-Jane chest into a rich, exotic-looking Chinese version. Then I’d have instant red in my entry, without waiting for the rug. Here’s the (slightly crooked) photo of my entry piece. I planned on painting the sides red.

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And I already had a bold red color that I liked. But I decided to make the homemade chalk paint recipe from Elizabeth & Co., because she does such wonderful projects over there, don’t you think? Only my first mistake was when I decided to skip the light sanding step.

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The paint wasn’t adhering properly, so after another thick coat delivered on both sides of the chest, (I’m hard-headed) I sanded it all off. That’s right. I removed my first coats of paint and returned to step one. Sanding.

OK. Time to lug it outside, because this was going to be messier than I thought.

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The paint went on better after the sanding, so I painted both sides and moved on to the next step. I would still need to finish the painting, but my plan was to decoupage my front inserts with a Chinese-looking paper I’d found at Cost Plus. After I toned down the gold with an antiquing glaze and distressed the red paint, I thought I’d have my elegant look.

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Are you beginning to see my vision? I cut the paper to fit the insert panels.

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But there was this ONE itty bitty worry I had. Can you see it? The panels aren’t flat, there are carved risings in the wood which made me wonder how the paper would adhere. See how I fly-by the-seat of my pants? Maybe you might have tested this out before, but I like to wing it. Usually it works. 

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Because the paper was so stiff, I thought dipping it in water would help, prior to slathering Mod Podge on it. Not a good idea, because the color leaked right away.

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Then I became concerned I’d tear the paper, so I applied the Mod Podge directly on the wood. Everyone having fun yet?

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This is a close-up of the paper on the carved wood. Definitely not a keeper… dear me, only one thing to do. Tear it all off.

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Time to regroup.

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And here I am. Back to the drawing board without a real plan. I didn’t want to do an entire piece in red. But I’m not sure painting panels in a contrasting color would look as elegant as I’d hoped. Right now I’m undecided.

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Should I do all red?

The red japanned bureau bookcase found in the State Bedroom at Erddig, Wrexham, Wales

Should I add touches of gold?

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via  Yby5.com

Should I go more country? I do like this contrasting grey top.

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via countryliving.com

Should I play it safe and paint it all black? Then I’d definitely need a rug with some color.

Hmmm…

Drop me a line…I’d love to hear your views…

Leslie


linking up at

 

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

my summer reading pick (non-fiction)

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via urbanvintagedelite.tumblr.com

In the Garden of Beasts

Murder. Espionage. Love affairs. International spies, a beautiful protagonist, behind-the-scene-details-of-American-politics, eyewitness accounts of Hitler and the Third Reich.

It’s all here. Erik Larson’s gripping portrayal of Hitler’s rise to power begins in 1933 Germany, and it’s told through the eyes of William E. Dodd, America’s first ambassador to Hitler’s Germany.

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  • Why did the United States wait so long to deal with Hitler’s rise in power?
  • How was Hitler able to turn the average German citizen into a hate-filled accomplice?

These are questions that Larson brings to the forefront in his book.

After all, it was Ambassador Dodd, stationed in Berlin between 1933-1939, who watched with alarm as evidence of Jewish persecution mounted and who carried the news back to President Roosevelt. It was Dodd and his family, who were the Americans on the scene, witnessing the escalating signs of Hitler’s ruthlessness and ambitions, go unheeded until it was too late.

I can’t find enough adjectives to adequately describe this reading experience. Larson’s story unfolds with an intensity of a Hollywood thriller, only with more chilling, nuanced characters and with a horrifying ending.

That’s because this is a true story.

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The Vanity Fair described this book, “like slipping slowly into a nightmare,” and I think it comes close to capturing the reader’s experience; in these chapters, we see how the twisted, perverse logic that fueled Hitler’s rise, seeps into the daily fabric of German life; and we watch this happen through the eyes of Ambassador Dodd and his beautiful, fun-loving daughter Martha, who at first, refused to believe the rumors about the hidden violence going on in Berlin during these years.

There’s a lot to like about this book. Larson paced his book so it reads like a novel and he excelled at constructing the big picture, while intersecting small human stories. I learned about the quiet government campaign called Coordination (Gleichschaltung) —which gradually turned the German people to Hitler and against the Jewish people.

  • Telephone callers who could no longer spell a word over the phone by saying, “D as in David,” because David was a Jewish name. The caller must instead say Dora. And “Samuel” must be changed to “Siegfried.” And so forth. This was one of the ominous little laws that went strangely unquestioned.
  • The fanatic Hitler salute that everyone was required to make, even in the most mundane situations. Children to teachers. Shopkeepers to customers. Everyone in pre-war Germany was forced to make this salute. And foreign tourists who chose to ignore this rule? They were eventually attacked on the streets.
  • Astonishing acts of violence by rogue Storm Troopers against innocent people—Jews and non-Jews-that were ignored by German police.

Erik Larson research included travels to Germany, and an immersion into this era through diaries, letters, government documents, books, and photographs, all of which helped him recreate the Dodd family.

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But the storyline focuses on the mild-mannered American professor-turned Ambassador, and his young, glamorous, daughter Martha, who was known for her sexual dalliances, her beauty, and her eventual spying.

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It is through Martha’s world that we come to know the Berlin night-life, the handsome Storm Troopers (later known as Gestapo) and their violent outbursts, the infamous members of the Nazi Party, daring members of the underground, and yes, Hitler himself.

History fascinates me. But reading about an era filled with such repugnant, evil events startles me into caring about the world I live in and it gives me a richer context to understand the headlines that I see every day. Delving into Germany prior to World War II, satisfies something inside me that wants to make sense of such malevolence and chaos. In hindsight.  Maybe it’s the therapist inside me. But I like to think that the more we understand our past, the less chance we have of repeating our mistakes.

 


What are you reading?

Leslie

 

linking up:

http://www.ladiesholiday.com/2012/08/book-worm-wednesday-blog-hop-non-fiction.html

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