A Fresh Familiarity

April 2, 2013UncategorizedDesignersMrs. Blandings

One of the things that I like about the town we have visited in Florida on and off for the last fifteen years, is the reliability of it. We go to mostly the same restaurants, mostly the same shops, tread mostly the same beaches and it all reaches out to us like an old friend.

Within the haunts and havens there are always surprises. How could I have not been to the church thrift store that holds designer bags and vintage prints until this year? How long has the new shop been open at the Inn and why were the pelicans there en masse when we had seen hardly one before? All these things make me see it with a fresh perspective and appreciate it all over again.

So, too, does the work of Brian McCarthy, which appears in April’s House Beautiful. It’s a treat to see designers’ own homes and this one is. (He shares it with partner Daniel Sager.) The country home is fresh, but has a pleasing familiarity as do many rooms of the designers who worked with Sister Parish and Albert Hadley. I find the rooms of that alumni are often among my favorites.

#swag, #YOLO

March 31, 2013UncategorizedMrs. B at Home, Musings from the Dream HouseMrs. Blandings

The rattan valise or Chinese lunchbox or clearly most charming thing ever arrived last week. It was the only item that I purchased on our vacation other than food and newspapers. From a high shelf in one of my favorite shops, she winked at me and I did think we had a lot in common. Bill and the boys agreed, “You have to get it,” they cheered. So I did.

She arrived by post and the newly-teenaged middle boy had to wait while I rescued her from the box.

“This is so silly. I have no idea what I’m going to do with it,” I confessed as I pulled it from the popcorn.

“Do you love it?” he asked.

“I do,” I admitted, sliding the pin from the latch and opening it to peek inside.

“Are you going to Instagram it?” he teased. “Hash tag ‘swag,’ hash tag ‘YOLO’?”

I looked up, “YOLO?”

“Mom,” he rolled his eyes letting me know how truly hopeless I am, “You only live once.”

Indeed.

Here and There

March 28, 2013UncategorizedDesigners, On AssignmentMrs. Blandings

A couple of things popped up while we were away. Don’t miss my friend, David Jimenez’s, apartment in the April issue of Architectural Digest. You can see it on-line here.

And, in further housekeeping, my latest piece on shopping your closet appeared in the Kansas City Star here.

Image, top, Architectural Digest, April 2013. I was so lucky to be at the shoot and witness the meticulous work of Howard Christian, who styled the piece, and Joshua McHugh who photographed it. Me and three charming men in a beautiful apartment – nice work if you can get it. Image, next, courtesy of One Kings Lane.

Scoundrel

March 27, 2013UncategorizedDexter, Musings from the Dream HouseMrs. Blandings

In our family everyone knows that Dexter loves us all, but we all agree he loves me best. Beyond me there is no descending order and the boys seem to take it in stride. It’s not uncommon for him to drape himself across my lap, his long legs hanging almost to the floor as I scratch his chin or rub his ears. Bill says this impossible behavior is my own fault as I held him there as a puppy while I worked. It’s comic and endearing and I love him.

When we were away we had a lovely young woman, beautiful and smart and nice – an amazing combination – watch him while we were gone. Coincidentally, her mother was vacationing in the same town that we were and we ran into her one afternoon.

“Oh, it’s so funny. Ellie just sent me a picture of Dexter with his head on her shoulder. She thinks he’s a riot.”

Everyone chuckled, including me, but my heart was in my throat. His head was on her shoulder? I was instantly struck that it is not me to whom he is so devoted, but anyone, it seems, who scratches behind his ear. Or coos his name. Or, worse, feeds him.

Jealous and indignant, I swore things would never be the same between us. Oh, we could be friends, it would be fine, we are both grown-ups after all (technically he’s two, or fourteen depending on how you look at it, but in his world he’s an adult plain and simple), but it would not be like before. I could never trust him again, not now that I knew he had so easily transferred his affections to another.

When we arrived home he skipped and pranced as always. I was aloof. He danced around me his big paws stepping on my feet, his nose nudging my hand.

The next morning when I awoke he was on the bed (where he is not supposed to be) and through the down of the comforter I could feel his chin resting on my leg. I opened my eyes and found him looking at me from upraised brows. I reached down and pulled his silky ear through my fingers. He rolled over on his back so I could scratch under his chin, knowing all was forgiven.

At the Beach

March 26, 2013UncategorizedMusings from the Dream HouseMrs. Blandings

We invited the sun to lunch, but he politely declined. We thought he might be in the haze of a hangover, but didn’t ask. The pelicans arrived in his stead, bringing their own fish. They haven’t been here before, but we’ll be sure to ask them next year. They are lively and entertaining and ask nothing of us so it would be nice to see them again.

Though they say they are not, the pelicans are friends with the gulls who often tag along uninvited. They are much too chatty and sometimes rude and did not seem to realize we had had enough of their company. We asked if they had seen the dolphin, but they hedged an answer. We figured he was either too shy or, perhaps, reluctant to commit.

Two sailboats drifted at the horizon too far away to see us wave.

We’ve been away from town and I have been away from here, but we are back and so am I, I think. We’ll see how the week unfolds.