June 3, 2012—no more braces and tadpoles

I am sitting in the orthodontists’ office waiting for braces to be removed from the eagerly anticipated straight smile of my youngest daughter. While we do this, my eldest daughter took responsibility for opening my shop and my mother is at my house, having arrived this past weekend for my son’s graduation from high school.

I mention all of this because I have spent the weekend reveling in memories of times past. The things we thought would never come to pass, have. Life has a way of moving on—especially when you’re not paying attention. You spend so much time planning for the events of life, that sometimes it is difficult to grab the memories as they are happening. Most of the time, I feel blessed that this all seems so gradual, but lately, I’m feeling a little rushed.

We had a great weekend with family and friends in town for the graduation celebration. It was difficult for our son to arrange a time to have his friends over to celebrate, though; everyone has their own family obligations. So, we’ve decided to attempt a get-together for this weekend.

In anticipation of his party—and just because it’s time—we uncovered the pool last weekend. We were torn about getting started because there were hundreds, probably thousands of tadpoles swimming in the murky water atop the cover. I know I’ve mentioned our war-without-end against the mosquito population in our backyard. Well, how do you justify killing thousands of potential mosquito predators? We couldn’t, so Darren carefully transferred as many as he could to one of our galvanized tubs and we proceeded with the unveiling.

Mind you, we knew this wasn’t going to be any easy opening. In early fall our first cover tore and some muck slipped into the pool. Not having the time to remove it and clean the pool then, we slapped another cover on top and hoped for the best. Well, we got what we expected. The pool was filled with leaves and several larger tadpoles; the water color resembles the river down the hill. Yuck!

As this pool was my big idea, I took responsibility for the bulk of the cleaning. I spent most of my holiday scooping leaves and vacuuming muck. I am sorry, there are a few tadpoles that did not survive the pull of the filter pump. We’ve allowed it to settle for a couple days and today we will vacuum it again. Hopefully we can vacuum again tomorrow and then start hammering it with the chemicals.

As I said, this pool was my big idea. Remember about 6 years ago when President George W. Bush announced a tax rebate of $1100 for each kid we had claimed on our taxes? Well, I thought we should use this money for something fun for the kids. Heck, they were the reason we were getting this windfall, right? Having recently returned from Alabama where we had visited friends with an above-ground pool, I had started thinking differently about them. Not the friends—above-round pools. I am ashamed to confess, I’ve always had a sort of prejudice about them, but unlike some, I’ve been able to admit that it was a mistake to discriminate against them—especially considering that’s all we could afford. Suddenly, they were attractive and possessive of much potential. A few strategically placed tropical plants and no one would notice the metal siding, right?

So, that’s how we came to have a pool in our backyard. Thanks to President Bush and my husband’s weakened sensibilities (he was deployed at the time) we have a splash pond.

I have to admit, at times like these, I regret the purchase. But in a week when it is clean and we’re floating in circles, cooling off after yard work, I’ll be gloating about my brilliant decision to install a pool.

May 27, 2012—friends, truffle pigs and alfredo sauce

As I was leaving the shop tonight, I was chatting with Kimberly Santiago, a local artist who has written and published a book, A Collage Playground. I am fortunate to have her as a tenant in our historic building on Franklin Street—you can actually find her studio on the Strawberry Alley side of the building—but even more fortunate to call her “friend.”

Just a few years older than myself—I don’t think she would mind me saying that (one of the many reasons to admire her)—she has allowed herself to become my sounding board and confidant. She is willing to collaborate with me in business matters and share her experiences as a mother, wife, and business person. Everyone needs a Kimberly, but to be honest I’ve surrounded myself with her kind—Jane, Rogate, Monica, Sherri and Sheila are the tip of that proverbial iceberg—friends whom have ventured into business ownership and are willing to share experiences. I can’t imagine making it through my days without them.

I hope you have someone like them in your life. We all need friends to help keep the checks and balances of our lives.

 

So, right, back to the story . . . as we were leaving the shop, we were admiring the weather (as women of our age are prone to do—far more frequently than I care to admit) and wishing we hadn’t spent the entire day inside. We both agreed that the appropriate next move would be to make every effort to complete the work we anticipated at home—preferably on the patio.

 

As it has been a particularly stressful week, I immediately started formulating the plan. I’d start boiling the water for the pasta, then start the grill, grab my laptop and begin writing my article on the patio. So far, it’s working. I feel much better. Letting go of some of the stress of the day just by being outside on what is quite likely the final day of comfortable weather for the foreseeable future.

 

Even with all of the mulberries on the ground and the inevitable flies which accompany them, I am relaxing. Then our dog, Brogan, begins snarfing up the mulberries, which will lead to a stinky dog, if you know what I mean. Since he sleeps in my room, I beg and plead with him to stop—finally convincing him to lie down. He, naturally, lies down in the grass, where he can continue the snarfing, thinking I cannot observe his surreptitious efforts. Stress is returning, but still manageable. (My daughter refers to it as “truffling,” as he reminds us of those videos we’ve seen of Truffle Pigs hunting for their prize.)

 

 

Then my mind waders . . . Oh look! Is that a Robin or a Towhee? And would you just look at those swallows? I wish they would fly down around my head, arms and legs—they would find plenty of their prey feeding on my blood. Do I have time to add that final layer of paint to those Adirondack chairs? Then the clanging of the lid on the pot of vigorously boiling water returns me from the day dream.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Back inside, the kitchen has really heated up with the boiling pot of pasta water. I add the whole wheat pasta to the water and start warming the Alfredo Sauce. It’s out of a jar, but practically gourmet, as I swish around a little white wine to loosen the sauce still clinging to the jar. I finish grilling the chicken breasts and turkey smoked sausage. We love this meal—especially on a busy work/school night. I chop the chicken and sausage, toss it into the sauce. My daughter helps whip together a healthy green salad and we sit down to a semi-family meal (my husband is out of town). We enjoy good conversation and a few laughs. I find myself sitting there, feeling a little self-satisfied in the knowledge that this is something we do nearly every night of the year. The stress is almost all gone; I then remember I haven’t written my article.

 

 

Rats! What will I write about . . .?

May 20, 2012—Packing for Picnics

This past week at the shop, we changed one of the windows to reflect the colors of warmer temperatures and associated activities. Namely the Downtown Market, Jammin’ in the Alley and Jazz on the Lawn—all great events which have recently made their seasonal return to Clarksville.

These events help us turn our minds to the wealth of activities and entertainment available in this community; added bonus—they’re free! It costs you nothing to come down and explore the market (www.clarksvilledowntownmarket.com) with the kids. The staff at City Parks & Rec has done a great job of recruiting quality vendors, as well as entertainers, awareness participants (such as the Humane Society) and providing activities for children. During Jammin’ in the Alley (the third Friday of the month, through August), you are encouraged to come with your own chairs and picnic food or to enjoy dining with one of our downtown restaurants. Then the folks at Beachhaven Winery invite you to join them on their grounds for free entertainment; again, you can bring you own food and non-alcoholic beverages.

If you’ve got plans to shop the market, you may wish to take along a shopping tote or basket for your loot. There is so much to see and buy, make sure it is large and sturdy!

If at all possible, you may want to find a basket that will do double duty—something you can use for market shopping, but will also serve as a sturdy carry-all for the items you will take along to the picnic events you’re bound to attend this summer.

When packing your picnic baskets this year, let me encourage you to consider stepping-up your list of “usuals.” Instead of using paper plates and napkins, why not consider investing in lightweight melamine plates and cloth napkins? They are sturdy, attractive AND reusable. The same is true of light, inexpensive flatware; the kind with plastic handles is available in a variety of bright colors and helps to elevate the event.

Blankets are great for picnicking, but colorful tablecloths are just as effective and weigh less than blankets. Chairs are nice, but rather cumbersome. You could use purchased seat cushions—use the tie-on straps to create a carrying handle—or enlist floor cushions for more comfort. If you try the floor cushions, you can wrap an old belt around a couple to make them easier to carry.

There are a few other items I would include (and leave in) my picnic basket: a wine bottle opener, salt & pepper shakers, hand sanitizer, candles in containers, a lighter and bug spray.

Some additional thoughts as I was snapping photos around the shop . . . these linen, roll-up utensil storage wraps are great for carrying (as well as storing) utensils.

 

These rag-style rugs make a great, easy to carry surface for picnicking, too.

A few ideas for really impressing your fellow picnickers, you can pack some “Southern Style” stemware—they come complete with lids to keep out pesky bugs and prevent spills on uneven surfaces. If you can find a vintage tool carrier, it will be the perfect transport caddy for your glasses. This is a bit of an extravagance, but well worth the effort—if for no other reason than bragging rights!

I hope to see you at some of these events this season. I’ll bring the bug spray!

may 13, 2012—Mother’s Day

Happy Mother’s Day! I envision you (the mothers reading this) lying comfortably in bed, eating the breakfast which was lovingly prepared for you, reading your favorite (wink, wink) Sunday column!

The more likely reality is that you’ve been up for hours, cleaned all of the dishes left in the sink and had to go pull the paper out from under someone’s art project (thank goodness they were, at least, using paper!). It is hard to figure out how to celebrate these Hallmark™ holidays, isn’t it?

My mother is still some distance away. I can’t do much for her for the holiday, but she isn’t very easy to “do” for anyway. She doesn’t sit still when other people are doing things. I like to think I inherited that trait, but I feel like I sit a lot more than she does.
I thought I’d use this opportunity to share a few other things I’ve learned from my mom.
I learned how to make a bed. She taught me all about hospital corners and why you put the top sheet on “jelly side down.” She also taught me that my day starts better when I make the bed in the morning. I don’t remember her bed ever being un-made. Now, I don’t remember actually adopting that philosophy until I was married with children, nor do I get it done every day, but I really do feel better when it’s done.

I learned how to set a table. She taught me how to fold napkins—where the “loose” corner is to be located in relation to the plate. I know the knife blade faces the dinner plate. While growing up, we ate dinner at the table, in the kitchen—no TV, except the occasional meal in front of the Disney movie of the week. We’ve continued the same practice. I am proud of that.

My mother taught me to separate my whites from my darks. We were expected to help with our laundry around our house and our kids have been doing their own laundry, for the most part, for at least four years. I taught them to separate, but my husband taught them to throw it all in together. I can’t compete with that.


Mom taught me to sew. One of the best gifts ever! The ability to sew saved me tons of money on the clothing I needed for my first job out of college, slipcovers for the hand-me-down furnishings for my first apartment and the numerous curtains I’ve made for our numerous homes!
At this point, I think it’s only fair to tell you that my mother was as home economics major in college. She taught for a year, then had me (lucky gal) and stayed home with me and my two younger sisters. Later, she kept the books for our family business, but she was home. She kept a close eye on us and, while at the time I didn’t think it was all that great, I appreciate it now.

In addition to the practical talents Mom gave me, she also gave me her motherly wisdom. Mom taught me, in 5^th grade, I didn’t have to kiss Troy if I didn’t want to—even if my best friend Julie was kissing her boyfriend. She then taught me my heart will get broken, but I will survive. She taught me how to make a dollhouse out of a box when I didn’t get the Barbie Dream House I thought I HAD to have. She taught me that lying is wrong and she will always find out . . . always. She taught me home perms are a bad idea and little girls (meaning anyone under 15) shouldn’t wear make-up or high heels.
She encouraged nearly any artful pursuit—including painting our neighborhood fire hydrants for the bicentennial celebration of our Nation. She also helped us set-up our own voting booth for the very heated election of the same year.

There is so much more, but this is a good start to the list. So, for everything my mother taught me—which I intend to pass-on to my daughters and son--I want to publically thank her. (Especially since I am sure I publically embarrassed her on more than a few occasions—note the high heels before 15 rule and lying.)
Paige Thomas King is owner of Hodgepodge, Where You Gather Your Home, at 125 Franklin St. Email her at paige@hodgepodge-home.com or visit her blog at www.hodgepodge-home.blogspot.com.