Lisa Frank, I Big-Neon-Pink-With-Purple-Shooting-Stars Heart You

So far I have found a koozie with the name “Susan” stitched on it (this is for when I have beers and like to pretend I’m someone else), a Mary Engelbreit notepad that tells me “Anything Is Possible”, a glass vase, and a Valentine’s Day porch flag in our new home.  All of these things were left by the previous owners as a welcoming gift, I’m guessing.  By the way, the notepad reminded me of the white sweatshirts my mother used to dress me in.  She would iron-on a Mary Engelbreit design.  Come on.  I know I’m not the only one that had those.  And if so, everyone else in the world should be jealous.  And now that you’ve checked out ME’s website, imagine a little girl with loads of curly red hair wearing a ME sweatshirt and holding a Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper (for reminiscing purposes click here) that would look something like this:

My actual Trapper Keeper had kittens on it.  Alas, I couldn’t find a picture of my Lisa Frank design.  Believe it or not, I did have friends, which brings me to the real issue here:  Why did The Hogan Family go off the air and what can I do about it?  And we have finally settled into the new house.

 

This was the view from the front porch the morning of our move.  We moved a few things the night before and stayed in the new house like real grown ups.

A week or so after we moved in, we decided to really screw with Destro’s head and cover things in plastic.

He retaliated by sticking his head in the paint can.  You think you’re soooo clever, dontcha?

A first look at the paint color.  Fortunately, Destro’s slobber didn’t make it past the window sill. 

Taaaa Daaaaa!!!  Here is what it looks like now.  Gray paint.  It is Olympic paint called “Secret Passages.”  Other paint names I think they should consider: “My Dad’s Not-So-Hidden Stash of Porn”, “Through The Neighbor’s Window” and “That Creepy Floor At The Public Library.”

The kitchen is up next.  It has a great wall that’s perfect for my wolf mural or perhaps a tribute to Lisa Frank.

P.S. Send Mustard Barbecue

Dear South Carolina,

Hey!  I miss you.  Momma says you’ve actually had a winter this year.  We always said, “Seasons?  What are those?” I guess the change has been nice.

We’re settling in to the new place.  Destro wants to climb on top of my head because the oven makes noises he’s not used to.  Hopefully, he’ll get over that or I’ll have to find a sling big enough for a 60 lb dog and strap him to my back.

I wanted to tell you that I saw your new book.  It’s gorgeous.  You look great!  Historic Photos of South Carolina.  Wow.  So, maybe it dates you, but I’m just saying.  Your Lowcountry, your Sandhills, your Piedmont – all your sides look good .  Doug Bostick tells your stories through photographs dating from 1860-1970.  I’ve  never seen some of these pictures.  The photographers range from the professional to a child playing with a camera.  I think choosing Mr. Bostick to tell your story was a good idea.  His arrangement of the photos and captions are well thought-out; although, I did notice that he is from James Island and an awful lot of the pictures are of the Charleston area.  No matter.  I love Charleston and The Holy City sure does have a history.   Oh, just thinking about it makes me want shrimp and grits and sweet cornbread.

I love looking at the old cars and clothes.  Women’s hairstyles and men’s high-waisted pants.  The storefronts and slow city streets.  There was so much land!  So much yard and unpaved, grassy lots.  Horse-drawn carriages and trolley cars.  Bare feet and rickety houses.  Dusty everything.  It’s hard to believe how far we’ve come.  And wasn’t it hot?  I mean, hot South Carolina hot in the summer.  Living with no air conditioning, and for those not on the coast, little to no breeze.  No sir.  Your living looks like it was hard.

I wonder how it feels to air some of your dirty laundry.  All out in the public.  Your archive isn’t flattering or particularly sordid.  It just is. You had to be honest.  You have a history of being stubborn, resolute in your convictions, often controversial and some might even say a little backward.  I imagine it is hard to visually capture your attitude, but this compilation shows a good try.  Pictures document some of your bleakest moments: cities ravaged by war, hurricanes, an earthquake, fires and people enslaved and living in the poorest conditions.  Beautiful plantation homes and grounds coexist with the darkness and awfulness of slavery. It’s a stark juxtaposition.  But there are also pictures that show your resolve, your willingness to try again, to rebuild.  Can you believe that church in Bennettsville?  It burned down the night of the first service and it took them four years to restore it.  That is commitment.

Your politics, social strata, your industry and your landscapes are all represented here.  It’s not a complete story, but for a coffee table book it’s a good start.  I’ll be getting out my magnifying glass to go through the book again.  I’m pretty sure that’s my great-grandfather walking down the streets of Columbia.  Did you see him?  Or my grandmother working in the mills.  She’s there – somewhere.

So, thanks.  And if you keep your sunny disposition this spring, maybe I’ll come for a visit.  But not too sunny, please.  And by the way, are you preparing for football season yet?  Never too early for a Clemson joke.

 XOXO,

Alissa

Historic Photos of South Carolina

Douglas Bostick ISBN: 9781596525559 Turner Publishing Company 2010 part of the Historic Photos series hardcover, 206 pages, 200 reproduced black and white photographs archives used: The Library of Congress Santee Cooper The South Caroliniana Library, University of South Carolina

That’s Not Paint. That’s The Stain of Death.

Honestly.  People need to leave some projects to the professionals.  Just because you can’t afford new hardwood floors doesn’t mean you should try to put down carpet yourself and in the process accidentally staple-gun your girlfriend’s bischon frise to the floor because you like to consider yourself a “man’s man” who can drink beer and operate pneumatic machinery.  Fluffy is not a dust bunny. And your pair of sunglasses is not the proper eye protection.  I found this post on Apartment Therapy’s site this morning and I had to laugh.  All the DIYers out there never mention the projects gone wrong.  This is somewhat of a relief for me as I am not great at “doing it myself.” I also love this comment left by a reader:

“There is the wall in my living room that I tried to paint so it would subtly mimic the clouds in an adjacent painting. Instead, the wall looks like an unfortunate victim of a party where some one drank too much Blue Curaçao and threw up all over.”

Here is my follow-up question: Was there ever a point that you stopped and said, “Huh. This sort of reminds me of 1990 – 1992.” No? And who says, “Hey, those clouds in that painting would look great on my wall. I would like to “subtly mimic” them by painting my wall the color of Blue No. 1. Let’s give her a go!”

Someone should stop me if I ever:

1. decide to “subtly mimic” the pattern Destro’s crusty dried drool makes on his water bowl mat.  That will not add a classy feel to the walls.

2. decide to blow up pictures from the wedding.  That one where the camera caught my crazy eye will not get any better cropped and larger.

3. decide to make pillows out of the jeans that no longer fit.  The pockets could hold my used tissues after I cry myself to sleep.

4. decide to make miniatures of  The Hubbs and me and our hypothetical children.  Playing with dolls is #6 on the Reasons To Get A Job/Someone Should Be Worried list.

5. decide to upholster our armchair in recycled hospital linens.  That’s not paint.  That’s a stain.

don’t be alarmed. it’s just a flesh wound.

 

not as bad as it looks.  forgot a pan handle was hot- 450 degree hot – right out of the oven. awesome.  another reason not to talk to me while i’m wielding kitchen utensils or dangerous objects like cucumbers.  i can’t discuss paint colors and remove a pan off a hot burner and remember it just came out of the oven.  gray-blue, not blue-gray! aaaahhhhh – that’s hot!!!! the hubbs made me hold a bag of ice. if burned, do not hold a bag of ice. i should probably call my mother before she sees this post. please excuse the hair. it’s hard to manage at the moment.  i’m thinking some pretty fabulous shadow-puppeteering will ensue shortly.  i have already mastered “the fish.”

What’s Your Style? What’s Your Stilo?

Hark!  I hear the call of a scheduled closing!  On a new house.  Not the previous house we “closed” on in December.  Pffff.  On a Monday we canceled a contract.  By Friday we were in a new contract on a new house.  And The Hubbs is still down with painting the living room gray-grey, whichever you prefer.   Speaking of design, my eyes are red and puffy and slightly crossed due to hours scouring the blogosphere for ideas.  Here are some of them (click on the pictures for links to their origin).

I will be using these orbs as a bra holder or a “brolder.”   Yes, they are positioned on the mantel in this picture.  I like to display my orbs wherever possible. 

I’m figuring out these design blogs.  There are so many of them. I think they rival food blogs.  And now I can’t decide which I like to look at more, food or style.  I have, however, decided that it isn’t a good idea to take a nap in the bushes.

Please watch your step.  Rufus, my giant rabbit has yet to be house-broken.

Oh, Scarlett.  You look divine in your old age.  And those curtains!  Girl, it is working for you.

Mirrored furniture is such a great idea.  Now, I can check my make-up while grabbing extra plates for the additional dinner guests that didn’t call.  See if they get pie.

Lastly, this chair comes with a set of magic markers.  I would not advise drawing your face on the seat.