July 29, 2012—Minor Accomplishments (accolades welcome . . .)

This week has been as crazy busy as any other, but I feel like I am actually getting things done. Don’t you hate those wheel-spinner days/weeks/months?

I feel like real progress was made in several areas—including the house, garden and shop—but mostly the shop. I have been able to pull together a summer sale, the likes of which I have never had before, at least one new window display (as of the writing of this column) and I was able to do some painting. I finished some small projects and put a few new things on the floor for sale.

The beauty of getting stuff done at the shop is that I will have virtually hundreds of people walk through and notice the changes. Regular customers will comment, “Oh! You’ve changed the window—let me go look again!” New customers will compliment an arrangement or a particular vignette. It’s all very satisfying. Not so much at the house. At the house, if anyone notices a new arrangement or newly hung picture, I am lucky. It is much more likely that someone will ask, a month down the road, “When d’we get that?”

That’s why I find it so funny when I over hear people saying, “Oh, I bet her house is wonderful.” Basing this supposition, naturally, on the attention to detail and display they see in the shop. My response, when they actually make this comment to me, is generally, “Not so much.”

I generally explain that I spend more time at the shop than my house and, when I am at the house, 7 of the approximately 10 hours are spent with my eyes closed. I don’t pay much attention to decorating my house anymore. Of course, the shop not only gets my attention, but also that of my friends/staff that help me; they do not come to my house, neither to arrange displays nor dust. (I’ve asked, they won’t do it.)

There was a time when the house and the décor filling it was all I thought about and did. I was constantly working on projects—whipping-up a couple throw pillows, making curtains, dinner and doing laundry, too; now . . . not so much. If I do have a novel idea for my house, it usually doesn’t happen until the relative season has nearly passed; bunnies arrive in May, patriotic bunting in August, you get the picture.

I guess that’s why, minor successes such as walking the dog AND pruning the Nandina before my chiropractic appointment makes me want to climb on the chicken coop (that I wish I had time to build) and crow!

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 6, 2012--finishing the chairs

Well, last weekend did not turn-out quite as expected. 
I started Saturday morning with some of my fine downtown business friends.  We volunteered to put the flowers the City had purchased into the planters on Franklin Street and Strawberry Alley.  I want to take a moment to thank Mitchell Cherry (Ingredients), Sara Esterby (The Runner’s Hub), Anne Head (Rogate’s Boutique), Linda Shephard (Edward’s Steakhouse), Clifton Whittaker (Downtown Artists’ Co-op) and Ryan Bowie (The Roxy) for coming out to lend a spade for the beautification cause!  The flowers are lovely; plus, it shows the dedication your downtown businesses have for a holistic approach to the Downtown Clarksville improvement efforts.

Now that I’ve got the public service announcement out of the way, I can get on with my whining.
So, shortly after we were done cleaning-up the mess of flower planting, I came into the shop to do a little work before heading to the flea market.  That’s when it happened.  I made the simplest of movements—one I do every day—and pinched a nerve in my back.  Oh, the pain!  After first promising God that would take better care of my temple if he would allow me to return to an upright position, I began the process of standing erect again.  It took what felt like an eternity, but I did it.  Though in pain, I still needed to go to the flea market, so off I hobbled.
After a semi-quick tour of the market, I headed home with what little loot I could manage, knowing that when I returned, I wanted to paint our Adirondack chairs.  After Darren realized I wasn’t to be deterred, he helped me move and flip the chairs and I managed to get the first coat on both of the chairs.  I don’t remember if I mentioned it, but he had already coated them with a stinky coat of oil based primer in white.
 

Being that white is a difficult color to cover AND I like the layered look, I decided to apply a “mostly covered” coat of the Provence.  Now, in case you’ve missed it, the best thing about Annie Sloan Chalk Paint™  brand decorative paints is the fact that you don’t have to prime or sand.  The priming was done by my husband before I had decided to use this paint on some outdoor furniture.  That being said, however, I was able to use this paint right on the oil based primer (usually you have to use oil based paint over oil based primer).  All I had to do was wipe away the leaves and other debris and start painting.  Applying the Provence in a haphazard manner, I left quite a bit of the white exposed.

If I hadn’t gone on to reinjure my back later that evening (go figure), I would have applied the second coat within a few hours or on Sunday.  As it turns out, I wasn’t able to add that second layer of paint until Thursday morning.  I believe I had mentioned I would use French Linen, but I decided on Country Grey instead.

Country Grey was applied in a technique we call “drop and drag,” to achieve a touch of the color here and there. 

The final finish looks as though several layers of paint—applied through the years—have worn with age.  Instant patina!
Now, instead of standing out like a pair of brand-new Keds® among some mistreated Chuck Taylors®, they blend with all of our other old, rusty and chippy patio furniture.  I am smiling!

If you’ve got plans to paint some furniture or do some other improvements to your outdoor areas, I’d love to hear about it!


PS--Now that I have been living with the chairs for a few weeks, I've decided to add a wash of french linen over the chairs.  The color is too "beachy" for our natural surroundings--I need to tone it down.  I'll post an updated photo when I am done.

April 29, 2012--Outdoor Painting with Annie Sloan Chalk Paint (tm)

As I sit down to write this, the birds are chirping, the temperature is perfect, with a nice breeze rustling the leaves.  I wish I could heave this desk top computer to the sidewalk and write while sitting on the bench in front of the shop.  Yes, I know, there are those little contraptions called “laptops” or “notebooks;” I even have one, but it has been giving me a little grief and has portability issues now.  Not to mention that it’s missing about 3 or 4 keys on the keyboard—a reminder of an overzealous swordsman who once roamed our house and a panicked old dog, trying to find purchase as he climbed into the back seat of the family roadster during our last vacation.  My laptop has seen a lot of stuff—but it’s traveling days are over.

Back to the beautiful weather—nice change of pace . . . Paige is actually enjoying the weather.  My back porch beckons regularly now.  The gardens are filling-in so nicely and looking especially nice with a layer of mulch.  (Isn’t it amazing what mulch can do for a yard?)  I am resisting the urge to add more plants and continue to work diligently to provide the plants we added to the side yard with a good start in life.  Although, I did pick-up a few Pineapple Sage to replace the ones we had last year.  They have the most amazing blooms and I place them on the edge of our shade garden, where they receive enough sun to produce their amazing fuchsia blooms.  They look quite stunning against the backdrop of the shade loving plants.

We’re planning to paint our new Adirondack chairs, which I purchased as a Christmas gift for Darren, this weekend.  Last December, I was struggling to think of a good gift for Darren—after all, what more could he want?  Then I remembered the 24 years-old Adirondack chairs Darren had made for us.  One was in pieces in our backyard, with the other closely on its heels.  

The old chairs in their former glory--yes, that is a piece lying underneath the one on the right!  And, since writing this article, Darren has repaired both. 

My mind started churning and with some help from Matt Dixon, I was able to track down the gentleman who sells them at the Downtown Market. He and his wife were kind enough to dig them out of their garage for me.  They are very sturdy and comfy, but I want to paint them (surprise).

Darren was industrious and slapped a coat of oil based primer on the chairs before I was able to tell him my plans.  (You can also see the recently repaired chairs in the background--Darren plans to use them for another 24 years--minimum!)

I've been telling everyone that the Annie Sloan Chalk PaintTM can be used on outdoor items, having seen pictures and listened to testimonials, but I want a first-hand experience I can reference.

I was going to let Darren do the painting, but I’ve decided I will do it.  That way I can achieve a vintage look for our brand new chairs.  Darren could do it, but I realized—after trying to explain to him how I wanted them to look—that I should do.  He’s got a lot of stuff to do around the house (his self-imposed “honey do” list) and this is really my “thing,” so I’ll tackle it.  I’m going to paint a layer of Provence (a bright blue—somewhere between azure and cyan on the color wheel), topped with a layer of French Linen (just like it sounds—it is the color of unbleached linen).  

Annie Sloan Chalk Paint (tm) in Provence and French Linen

The real beauty of this project is that I’ll paint them in the morning and we will be sitting in them in the afternoon.  Darren has plans to grill some oysters and, I don’t know why, but I think they’ll taste better while sitting in these chairs!

When I transfer this post to my blog, I’ll add some “after” pictures, so please visit for “the rest of the story.”

(As it turns out, my editor asked me to do a follow-up story, so I'll post the "after" pictures with the next article!)