Whitewash

I have always enjoyed the sound of the word whitewashed.  It makes me think of picket fences and Tom Sawyer, cottage gardens and tall glasses of iced tea with a wedge of lemon on the glass rim.  Whitewashed sounds so clean and so refreshing.  And while it would seem that the only thing whitewashed in February in New England is the landscape, I am on a whitewashing frenzy.  I have been in the basement as of late painting, painting, painting…white, white, white!!!  Maybe inspiration came from my recent trip to Nesting on Main and Thoreauly Antiques (where my good friend Keri has a space) in Concord, MA.  Or maybe, just maybe, I’m looking to be saved…from the winter doldrums…from my ever demanding brood…from complacency?

Here are some beautiful pictures of things whitewashed:

 

 

 

 

 

* Pictures courtesy of Country Living and Coastal Living

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Christmas Perfection

My Christmas Dream House

I have been looking for the perfect Christmas stockings for nearly six years and “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” I have finally found them!  Every so often I would find stockings that I liked in magazines but they were always part of some glorious vignette, handmade, one-of-a-kind, and not for mass consumption.  One year, I even tried to make my own but got as far as making the pattern…that was five years ago and they continue to sit in a box in the attic.  So my poor crazies, oops, I mean babies, have never had Christmas stockings which has actually never been a big deal because they were either too little to notice or care or we were out of town for the holidays.  But sweet sugarplums, I found these amazing stockings a few weeks ago at Red Chair Antiques in Peterborough, New Hampshire. 

 

At the behest of my dear friend Keri of Antique Therapy, I finally made the trek to Peterborough and visited two of her favorite shops: Red Chair Antiques and Bowerbird.  When I walked into both of these shops, I had to pick my jaw up from off the floor and ever so frequently dab up the puddle of drool that was collecting at my feet.  Wow, is all I can say.  If you haven’t been to either one of these shops then I suggest that you drive fast, very very fast to the charming town of Peterborough, NH. Bring a sack full of money and a Uhaul because if you adore antiques and shabby French and Swedish stylings, you will be in heaven.  

The only unfortunate things about my purchases was that I was only able to afford three of these gorgeous stockings made of rich French ticking cloth and linen that is to die for.  I scraped together all of my pennies and bought a Christmas stocking for each one of my little crazies, oh pardon me, my babies but alas I could not afford to buy one for my husband or myself…sniff…sniff.  Well good things come to those who wait (and sacrifice just so their children can have lovey Christmas memories with heirloom stockings).  Yesterday, I was at The White Home Collection in Wilton, NH where Thistlebees has a sweet space and what did I find?  Two incredible stockings - and only two like they were just waiting for me - made of the softest cotton, repurposed from either old pillow cases or tea towels.  One stocking is more masculine made of creamy linen and the other is more feminine in dainty white damask.  And if you can believe it, they were only $20 each!  Granted with the money I spent on the kid’s stockings, ours will probably remain empty this year but what fun to finally hang stockings.  Question is do I hang them from the fireplace mantel or the along the staircase?  I’ll post pictures of the winner soon… 

Oh, I almost forgot, The White Home Collection and Thistlebees will be hosting a Christmas Open House this coming weekend Friday, November 27th and Saturday, November 28th from 10am-5pm, and Sunday, November 29th from 11am-5pm.  We are located at 9 Greenville Rd. (at the corner of 101 & 31S) in Wilton, NH.  This sale is not to be missed!  I’ll be back up at White Home this week before we head off to Long Island for Thanksgiving to do my last primping before the extravaganza. I’ll take lots of pictures before the sale so you can get a sneak-peek of what is available.  And the greatest thing about The White Home and Thistlebees is that you can plan to bring a Uhaul to carry your treasures away but leave the sack of cash at home - the deals are phenomenal!

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Happy Birthday, Happy Anniversary

 

Well, my dear friends, I can no longer apologize for never posting. It is who I am and where I am right now. After finally finishing my graduate degree this past May, I was certain I would have all this time on my hands after which to write posts all the time. I even worried that I might start posting too much! So much for that. To be fair, I do have my hands full with a colicky, now-6 month old baby boy, a 2 ½ year-old going-on-cranky little man, and an “I-might-be-6-but-am-really-a-13 year-old-drama-queen-little-miss-sassafras” daughter who just started kindergarten (and only ½ day so there’s no rest for the weary). To counter this, I have Thistlebees in Sterling at the Cider Mill but down-sized somewhat there and added a second location in Wilton, New Hampshire at the White Home Collection. Three kids, two shop locations equals more work than I can handle. I am burning out fast.

 While I love Thistlebees and all things home and garden, I also love my children. I am coming to a sort of crossroads: either rethink the business or rethink the kids. Since the circus isn’t coming to town anytime soon (except the circus that is my life), I am stuck with keeping my wee angels of torment and love. I have come to the point where I am questioning my intentions, my commitments, my attention, and my reality which brings me back to a story I just read on the Urban Farmhouse blog about “No Insignificant Moments.” It is a moving post by Perry Maughmer about the recent untimely death of a young women he knew who was just beginning to blossom, grow, and spread her talents and beauty in this world. Part of it reads,

 

I am asking you all to think about how you do things more so than what you do. To put it simply – where ever you are, be all there. Honor those you’re with by giving them your full attention and really engaging. Make each person feel like they are the only person in the room. Isn’t that the least we can do? …Remember, what may seem unimportant to you may mean the world to someone else.”

 

And so this powerful post spoke to my soul. It moved me in a way that I began to cry for that young woman whom I did not know, for my short-tempered, frustrations with my children, for my exasperating secret thoughts of, “Oh would you just hurry up and grow up so I can have my life back!” I, more than the average mother, should know how precious life is. How, in the blink of an eye, a sweet and sassy then 4 year-old daughter can almost become a memory because of a freak, life and body-altering illness.

 

Sweet "Kitty Kate" two weeks before her illness.

Sweet "Kitty Kate" two weeks before she became sick.

Shouldn’t I be embracing motherhood and the gift of being able to stay home and raise my own children instead of getting angry because my 2 ½ year-old, who wouldn’t go down for a nap today and as a result made me put-off yet another day sanding a table for the shop, asked me to “nuggle” him on the couch? It is that age-old dilemma - Will you look back on your life and wish you had spent more time at work than being at home enjoying possible once-in-a-lifetime-moments with your children and your spouse? Do you forgo another year of making memories with your babies and scarcely decorating the house and yard for Halloween because you are too busy with other distractions than making decorating for Halloween a celebration for your children to remember always? My romantic, nurturing, primal, idealistic side says, “You are hurrying precious time” while my entrepreneurial, self-satisfying, creative, impatient side says, “go big now or go home!” The opportunity to love and raise my children comes only once but finding and restoring sideboards from the late 1800’s will be a challenge that can always be tackled, right?

 No definite decision has been made yet. To be honest I have always been an “all-or-nothing” kind of gal but I am rethinking, recalculating, reassessing, and reminding myself of what and who are most important. There may be some middle ground here that I can ultimately find but for now here’s to six profound years with my lovely and saucy daughter Kate! Here’s to two incredible years of Thistlebees! Here’s to “surviving” in so many ways…

Now six, there's no stopping little Miss Sassafras.

Now six, there's no stopping little Miss Sassafras!

 

*Note - this was written in September and I am only getting around to posting it now!  YikEs!!

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Distant Thunder

I am listening to the rain falling outside which is welcome retreat after the sweltering day we had today.  After 28 consecutive days of rain in June that we had out here in New England, you’d think I’d be finished with it.  Not summer rain…I find it so relaxing.  And then there is the distant thunder - I just think it’s all so romantic.  A welcomed change is coming…

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Sweet Land of Liberty

 

The memories of the 4th of July have always been so sweet for me.  They are filled with youthful images past of growing up in the quaint, Great South Bay bordering village of Bellport, Long Island. It is an idyllic existence, magnificent homes all white with green shutters and charming white picket fences lining Bellport Lane, the main street that leads down to “the dock” at the water’s edge.  It is along this picturesque street of Bellport Lane that artists set up their masterpieces for onlookers from near and far to admire and hopefully purchase during Artist on the Lane held every 4th of July since I can remember. 

It was our family tradition to begin our the annual 4th of July celebration with a walk down “the lane” in the morning followed by a stay at the beach then onto neighborhood barbeque hoping until we concluded with fireworks at the dock.  And while the only artwork I could afford at Artist on the Lane were miniature seascapes by local artist Hans Gabali (my collection numbers nearly 30), I cherished this July 4th morning tradition far more than the all the swimming, hot dogs and fireworks of every summer put together. 

Just a sampling of my Hans Gabali collection

While I am not sure if we will be enjoying Artist on the Lane this year, we are headed for “home” to Long Island.  During our stay with Mom-Mom and Pop-Pop, we will be sure to spend plenty of time at the beach with the next generation of summer revelers who will hopefully one day regard our 4th of July family traditions with sweet reminisce.  And for all these memories, all these freedoms, I praise God and the courage of those who came before us - here’s to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness!  Have a Beautiful 4th of July!

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Stork Misdelivery

Do you ever get the feeling that you were born into the wrong era?  I secretly believe I would have thrived in another life - one in which women’s “work” was resting under a parasol on a chaise lounge in the gardens of a fine Georgian manor house. Granted, I may have only lived until age 30 because I have asthma but none-the-less, I think I was meant for a more refined lifestyle.  One where we have house servants and a gardener and my greatest of worries would be what Cook should prepare for the bridge luncheon.  May I be struck down by Mary Lyon herself when I say this but what was really so great about the womens’ movement?  Now I am expected to be both career woman and domestic goddess and to tell you the truth, I am failing miserably at both right now.  I feel neither completely fulfilled as a stay-at-home mother nor as a corporate mogul.  I am restless.  I am fitful.

Where are those precious angel children clad in white linen frocks running circles around the maypole responding “Yes, Ma’am” and “No, Sir” - children seen but not heard?  I’ll tell you where they are - they’re plotting daily to overthrow the motherment and suggest mutiny or a coup any chance they can get.  And then I think of that public service announcement from when we were young showing the egg in the frying pan - “This is your brain.  This is your brain on drugs.  Any questions?”  And instead, I hear - “This is your brain.  This is your brain with children.  Any questions?” 

Oh to dress in fine silk gowns, sip mint juleps on the veranda, and have the “help” run after the little angels…and then I hear the echoes of my sweet Kate’s voice resounding down the hallway from the bathroom, “Mommy, can you wipe me!”  And then the spell is broken, and then the dream is over - the clock strikes twelve and my delicate glass slippers turn back into those ratty old flip flops I’ve had for more summers than I can remember.  Even Calgon can’t save me now…

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Nesting

Mama Robin tending her young.

Mama Robin tending her young.

Mama Robin and I have a lot in common.  She had some new babies in April in the nest under the porch eaves that has been occupied by either her or Robins past for the last four years.   Every time the Robin’s nest, they’ve built another level to their home.  It’s quite tall now and almost resembles the Leaning Tower of Pisa.  Mama Robin usually has two broods in the spring and we’ve been waiting for her to roost for a second time but nothing.  Then this morning looking out the window as I filled my tea pot with fresh water for my comforting cup of first morning tea, I noticed something hanging from the little fort section of the kid’s swing set.  Ever the investigator or maybe just a nosy neighbor, I went out back to see what it was.  Sure enough Mama Robin was hard at work building a new nest!  But what a spot - on the swing set?  She must see how much joy my kids get from playing on that thing that she decided her wee ones might enjoy the new location. 

I guess even Mama Robin gets bored with her old home and has that itch to move and redecorate come spring.  Now that I have officially completed my teaching semester, my Master’s degree, and had baby Finn, my nesting instincts have kicked back in and I’ve been itching to reorganize things around the house and in the shop.  My faithful new partner Keri and I, whom I did Brimfield with last fall, moved into a new spot together at the Cider Mill in March.  Thanks to all her hard work, Keri has kept the shop fresh, new, and ever changing while I was out of commission with school and the new baby.  Now that I’m getting my energy back, it is my turn to repay the favor and keep things moving at the shop while she waits for her new bundle to be born any day now. 

Finn McAllister Holwell joined our family March 25th

Finn McAllister Holwell joined our family March 25th

Here are a few pictures of new goodies at the shop:

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The Winter of Our Discontent

What I wouldn’t give to see the grass again or even for all those leaves to be back in our driveway and lawn.  Anything would be better than this dreadful, depressing snow that just won’t quit.  Spring cannot come fast enough this year - and it’s only February!  Don’t get me wrong. I love a good snow storm but only as long as the remnants melt and disappear two days after arrival.  Even our poor mailbox is nearly suffocating from the mound of snow piled up to its little door.  Where’s the Calgon when you need it!

The reclusive weather is taking its toll on my creativity as well - that and “Little Buddy” as my mother refers to the energy-sucking little love growing inside of me.  I’m waddling now with only about 9 weeks to go before take-off.  Somewhat claustrophobic is how I am feeling right now, up to my eyeballs in student teaching and my inquiry project (thesis).  Unfortunately, the one creative release I have in Thistlebees is stuck out there buried far beneath the snow.  It may take until the Spring thaw to get back to Creativity 2009.  And just when I am feeling a sense of relief by writing without boundaries, I am reminded that any “free” moment I have needs to be filled with creating lesson plans and researching and writing my thesis.  Do they even still make Calgon? 

But I’ll I leave you with some pictures of Spring Time inspiration - a little bird’s nest and some bird houses that sit in the shop with great expectations.

 

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A New Year’s Resolution

With 2008 quickly on its way out, I am looking forward to the coming year with a sense of relief, renewed energy, and optimistic apprehension.  Blessings have been a major theme in the blur that has been 2008.  I have experienced great creative successes (keeping my little shop afloat and doing Brimfield), little monetary successes (our heads are above water but we’ve choked a few times on some unexpected tidal waves), and many surprises thrown in between (like finding out that our family wasn’t finished growing with baby # 3 on his way).  Thistlebees has been patiently coasting along on auto pilot since this past summer when I started full-steam ahead on completing my MA in Education - English .  So here I am in my third back to back semester since May and up to my eyeballs in lesson plans on Shakespeare.  I finished the last of my classes on December 8th and began teaching full-time on December 10th.  I’ll work until March 31st, have the baby April 6th (?), and have about one month to finish my thesis (deep in the mix of postpardum ”bliss” and sleep deprivation) before graduating in mid-May.   At this point, I’ve got the blinders on and I am ferociously chugging away in the home stretch and yes, I can actually see the finish line! 

My New Year’s resolution for 2009 is to invest in creativity in all its forms.  I’ve got spring fever already (or maybe I’m just nesting) but I am anxious to reorganize and get a handle on everything - the house, the shop, the finances, our lifestyle…

Our Little Family

Our Little Family

In a homage to Tasha Tudor, we are learning to live a more simple way of life.  With the unfortunate repercussions of the economy, we have quickly come to understand what matters most in life and how to make the most of what we have.  I used to think that I followed a budget but not until the past six months have I come to understand what a budget truly is and what it is to choose between putting gas in the car or groceries in the fridge.  We’ve gone through a ”cash on the barrel” lifestyle jolt.  There is no more living beyond our means as we have for too many years and putting unnecessary items on credit cards with the hopes of paying it off later.  The reality of our lifestyle overhaul has been both devastating and exhilarating at the same time. 

In my commitment to “Creativity 2009,” posting more regularly to my blog is on the list as is reviving the sleeping Thistlebees (a very delicate procedure since Thistlebees are a wrathful breed).  I was hoping to post some pictures of the shop before it was ravaged by the Cider Mill Holiday Open House but I still intend to remember the camera when I go there next time (which unfortunately is not today because we are getting snow, snow, and more snow!)

Wishing you a Joyous, Healthy, and Creative New Year!

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Sweet Autumn

The crisp smell of autumn is all around us out here in Massachusetts along with an overwhelming amount of leaves that have fallen to the ground.  There is no grass to be seen on our front lawn, just one big pile of lovely, curled, crunchy leaves.  And sadly, my husband’s philosophy is that he “only rakes once.”  So as we wait for the rest of the leaves to settle to the ground, I have have to be content with the ”au naturale” look.  I know that my husband is secretly hoping for the first snow so that he’ll get out of raking entirely - ”Oops!  Guess we’ll have to wait til’ spring to rake those leaves.  Can’t do it with all that snow on top.” 

Since I am 18 weeks pregnant with dreaded sciatica just beginning, I’m not exactly clamoring to do the raking myself - although it does takes great restraint to remain calm about the may lei.  When I pull into the driveway, if I can find it since it too is covered completely with leaves, I try to focus on the front door of the house.  At least that looks neat and tidy.  And yes, two of my biggest pet peaves are a leaf-laden lawn and unkempt grass (I also can’t stand dirty snow but I can rant about that in January). 

Yet Autumn, the dark harbinger of seasonal death and dying to some, is still sweet to me because it gets me thinking about the holidays, about cozy evenings in front of the fireplace, the aroma of comfort foods like turkey and stuffing, and the gathering together of dear family and cherished friends.  Autumn takes the focus off the garden and brings me back inside where I am consumed with all things home and feathering the nest for winter. 

Speaking of nesting, here are a few snapshots of a friend’s home, Diane Lucas, whom I met at Brimfield this past September.  Her sense of style and grace speaks to all things peaceful and warm, cottagey and welcoming.  Enjoy!

 

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