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Dive Right In

One of the neighbors on our street is having a pool installed in their backyard!!

The weather hasn’t yet turned frightfully frosty yet, and summer isn’t that too distant of a memory, but now I’ve got warm weather, vacation and pools on the brain.  I’m thinking I might have to have those contractors measure out a nice in-ground set-up for us. . .after I trot over to the neighbors house with a nice beer bread or banana nut loaf, of course.  Gotta get in good now and make sure my seat under the cabana is reserved.

Don’t these pools make you want to take a dip? 
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IN: ON: November 28, 2011 TAGS: , , BY: Hilary
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Giving Thanks

Last year, just as in years’ past, the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade was on television while the family was in the kitchen prepping for the main event.  The girls would float in and out of the family room, pausing in front of the screen to take in the sight of marching bands, super sized floats, and the scores of cartoon characters inflated high in the sky over the crowds.  I, too, would check some things out when I heard the broadcasters mentioned a name or group that I was particularly interested in seeing.  Somehow, between setting the table, shuffling pots and pans, and trying to sneak off with a book for a hot minute, I happened to catch the Rockettes the same time that Morgan and Coever did their pass by the TV.

Growing up, my grandmother used to tell me that she was the first Black Rockette way back in the day.  There wasn’t any evidence to back up her claim.  There weren’t any flyers, there weren’t any photographs tucked into a worn photo album.  There wasn’t anyone who could corroborate her story.  She just repeated it every year, especially around the holidays when the Rockettes were more visible during the parade and their holiday extravaganza at Radio City.  She was almost Pavlovian in her reaction.  Rockette’s on TV? Here comes Gram, “I remember when I was Rockette, doing all those high kicks. ”

For years, I believed her.  Then with the cynicism that comes with early adulthood, I jumped onto Google one year to find out who indeed the first Black Rockette truly was.  Her name is Jennifer Jones and she made her debut in 1988.  Was I depressed at learning the truth? No, I was kind of proud. Gram had been consistently bestowing a gift on me year after year.  Sure, she wasn’t the first, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t be if I wanted to.  Whatever I wanted to be, I could.

Last year, when the girls and I caught the Rockette’s doing their performance, I thought about Gram. I thought about her maintaining her status as “the first Black Rockette”.  When those ladies lined up to do their iconic line kick, I found myself tearing up.   My throat grew thick with missing my gram, and the temptation to just whisper to the girls, “You know, your Great-Gram was a Rockette.”

I didn’t tell them, of course. What with their access to Google and all things digital, they’d quickly figure things out.  I did tell them the story of how their Great-Gram Eleanor told me she had been a Rockette.  I tell them of how she had a department store’s worth of perfumes on her dresser, how she always said, “Hey, doll!” when she answered the phone.  I tell them that even though she passed away when Morgan was just a baby and that Coever never met her, she loves, loves, loves them dearly, and always will. I tell them how lucky I am to have had an adult relationship with my grandparents and how lucky they are, too.
This day, and always, I’m thankful for my family and my friends. I am thankful for the roof over my head, the clothes on my back, and the food in my belly. I am thankful for opening my eyes every morning, for walking on my own two feet.  I’m thankful for the people whose lives I’ve touched and whose lives have touched mine. I am thankful for the people whom I have never met, but work to ensure my safety and the safety of my family, friends and neighbors.  I’m thankful for all the things that I take for granted the other 364 days of the year and I’m thankful for all of the things that I often complain about as well.  Sometimes, I need a national holiday to remind me.  
Or a Rockette’s high kick in the pants. 
Happy Thanksgiving, y’all!

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IN: ON: November 23, 2011 TAGS: , , BY: Hilary
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Monday’s Message

I have a stack of magazines that I have been toting from my nightstand to the car and back to my nightstand with an alarming regularity. Oprah, Parents, Parenting, Glamour, Real Simple, the J.Crew Holiday Catalog: they’re all stuffed into a Whole Foods Tote bag that goes down the stairs, out the door, into the car in the morning.  Then, at the end of the day, out of the car, in the door and up the stairs.  I’ve got 30 minutes while the girls are in swimming lessons. I’ve got 45 minutes while the girls are at tutoring. I’ve got a handful of minutes in various carpool lines.  Have a I cracked a spine on any of the mags? Nope.  I keep thinking that in the midst of all of the to-ing and fro-ing that goes on, I’ll have some time to leaf through the glossy pages and create inane wish-lists of celebrity endorsed product.  It hasn’t happened.
The public library has been blowing up my phone lately because several books that I on on hold are now available.  The messages come in from some unknown number and the urgency in the robotic voice makes me feel like I have to drop everything to book it over to the library so that my item doesn’t evaporate back into the stacks.  “We will hold your item for three business days,” the robotic librarian tells me.  What I hear, however, sounds like this, “Three days, sucka! We ain’t playin’, so carry your a-double on over here before I like to give this book to someone else!  I ain’t gonna call you again! *click*.    I’ve already waited several weeks for the book; I really don’t want to miss this window of availability and then end up at the end of the line again.  And wouldn’t you know, all of my books came in at once.  I sped on over to the library, tossing an armful of the girls’ books into the maw of the book return, like an offering to an obscure literary pagan god.  Of the titles I picked up, I’ve burned through about three in ten days. 
During my weekly sojourn to Target, I picked up another book that I’ve been waiting to read.  I just couldn’t outlast my position in the queue for “The Hunger Games”.  Everything else that I’ve been reading, “Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children“, “The Uncoupling“, “The Recipe Club,”  all of these titles were just place holders for this book that I have heard so much about.  Like Harry Potter and the Twilight series before it, I had heard chapter and verse (no pun intended) about how great this story is and how I just had to get my hands on a copy, immediately.  My no commitment book club read it, but the library copy I reserved never materialized in time.  If you’ve read it, please let me know.  And yes, I know there’s a movie adaptation coming out soon with Lenny Kravitz (*swoon*) in one of the roles.  SN: for that alone, this book deserves a read.
Ideally, I’d be having a lie in with my book today, but responsibilities call.  I will, however, be swapping the tote of magazines for the comparatively compact novel.  Let the games begin.

  
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IN: ON: November 20, 2011 TAGS: , BY: Hilary
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Office Space, Part II

Per all of the requests, here are some photos of the office.  And SN: Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who reads this blog and to everyone who leaves great comments and feedback. I really appreciate it.

Okay, so this is the right side of the office.  We’ve got the green accents in full effect with a wire mesh trash can that I scored from BB &B for $1.99. There’s the paper shredder and the desk with all of my papers, pencils, and what not.  The desk is in the open position, but I can slide it shut so that it looks like a dresser.  It’s pretty neat and a definite space saver. So the color palette up here is primarily white and green.  I started with my diploma (Tribe Pride!) and to complement the cherry on that frame, there are two pictures of Craig and myself from our trip to Spain a billion years ago.  Behind the chair is the first of many bookcases and to the right of that is one of the two wall cut-outs that is full to the brim with the stuff I didn’t know where else to put. Over the first cut-out is Craig’s fraternity certificate. Over the second cut-out (not pictured but just a full of stuff), is my sorority certificate.

Here’s a shot of my desk.  Trying to find some desk accessories has been a real hassle. At first, I went with some green ones from Target, but 1) they looked like someone had been chewing on them, 2) it was way too much green with the lamp right there and 3) it wasn’t really what I wanted.  I saw this desk caddy at Pottery Barn, but once I got it home, it became clear that it was more of a French Vanilla than a white.  I go back and forth about that. I mean, everything doesn’t have to matchy-match, but at the same time, I’m just not sure I like it.  I think I need to get some craft paint in the right shade of green and just sponge the desk caddy to give it some texture.  Hmmm. . .that’s not a bad idea, actually. 
Here’s a better view of the bookshelf. 

 We are some pretty avid readers.  After I had put this shelf unit together, I realized we were definitely going to need more.  Those shelves are tight, tight, tight.  To pull one book out, you’ve got to brace the rest of the unit and then do this wiggle-waggle-shimmy with the selected book so that the whole shelf doesn’t blow up in your face once some space is made.

When I look at the shelf, I think of that Jerry Seinfeld bit where he’s saying that people keep books like trophies to prove that they can read.  Why, yes, I can. And I read quite a bit.   Oooh, the lamp.   I found a pair of them on clearance at Target (love Tar-Jay).  I think I paid more for the lightbulbs than the lamps themselves.  And yes, that’s a picture of my lovely pledge class to the left and my Centennial AKA Barbie to the right. I have to hide her up here because the girls are frothing at the mouth to take her out of the box and brush her hair.

 This is the left side of the office.  I really love the green photo boxes, not only because green is my favorite color, but because I feel SO organized when I look at them.  If I need a picture of one of the girls for a class project, I know exactly where to go.  I’m tempted to replace those books and candles on the left side with the myriad of photo albums that I have.  Still, the clean, streamlined look of just the white and green is really appealing. I also found that floor lamp at Target, which is the same color green as the other lamps.  I have yet to sneak up here with a cup of coffee and just rock it out in the glider with a good book, but that is definitely on my to-do list.

Oh, Craig’s Porsche collection! We’re going to get you one that for the driveway, Craig, I promise.

So, that’s a mini tour of my office.  Thanks for stopping by.  Oh! And if you have any suggestions for office decor, must-have desk-top accessories, or what have you, definitely let me know.  
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IN: ON: November 17, 2011 TAGS: , BY: Hilary
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Office Space

One of the things I like about our new house is that there is a room on the third floor that I have claimed as my own. I have an office! With a door that closes!  Woo-woo!

When we moved, this coveted space became a wasteland for all of the post-move detritus.  Boxes of books, holiday decor, old children’s clothes, my Stampin’ Up! stuff, and more boxes of books.  There were piles of random electrical cords, computer attachments, and instruction manuals.  A VCR/DVD combo unit took up residence alongside a bag full of totebags.  Seriously, there was a big Nike gym bag full of assorted soft bags.  In the middle of this melee was our “computer desk” and chair.  I use the words computer desk lightly because in truth, it was just a table we scored at an office firesale many, many years ago.  I mean, give me a board and two saw horses and I could fashion a better desk.

My goal has been to de-junk the office, get some real office furniture and truly make this place my own.  It’s been a process, but I’m nearing the home stretch. I’ve gotten most, if not all of the boxes unpacked. Those that aren’t or can’t be until we can conjure up some more space in the attic have been artfully tucked into these little wall cut-outs in the room.  When it came time to get those things off of the floor and out of sight, I was stacking boxes like I was playing Tetris.

I’ve got a for real desk that I put together myself:

and I got a coordinating chair, that yes, I put together myself!

Talk about a labor of love. You know that construction is going to be time consuming when you make a mental note that there are more pouches of screws than letters in the alphabet (anyone see packet PP?). And there was in fact a piece missing from the box that the chair was delivered in, but I haven’t fall out of it and it hasn’t fallen to pieces, so I’m calling this a win.

I scored some green accent lamps at Target, along with one of those 9-cube bookcases to house as many books as I can squeeze in there.  There’s been some overflow, but for now, most are displayed and I can put my hands on what I’m looking for when I want to.  Plus, the top of the bookcase makes for a great display shelf of some of my sorority paraphernalia.  I think the last time it was displayed was probably when I crossed!

I also scoured through all kinds of Container Store and Hold Everything type of places until I found the right shade of green photo archival boxes.  Once and for all, I went through all of my loose photos, even the ones dating back past high school, and categorized them.  Opposite the wall-cut outs, there are some built in shelves.  In went the photo storage boxes (strategically placed) amongst some camera equipment, some books, and Craig’s mini collection of die cast Porche 911’s.  In my head, this is my office, but I deigned to give him a shelf so he feels included.

After all the DIY of the chair and the desk, the unpacking of books, the place was looking kind of crusty and dusty.  So, I hauled the vacuum cleaner up the stairs and actually vacuumed.  You know, the vac and I have an on again, off again relationship, so this is a big deal.  Nothing beats seeing fresh vacuum tracks in the carpet, though, right?  Ahhhh. . .  the place is clean, airy, and ready for work.  And I really enjoy coming up here and putting in some work, be it to edit some photos, work on a blog post, hide from the children.

It’s so nice and organized in here.  It’s great, but I think I cleaned up too well.  There are about half a dozen things I can’t find: my tripod, my extra camera bag, my box of poetry books (because sometimes I really want to read some Langston Hughes), my Modelogic portfolio.   I have a sinking feeling that they’re tucked in some kind of suspended animation in one of those wall cut outs, way behind the remaining boxes of stuff.  It’s going to take a stick of dynamite to move that stuff.

Maybe I don’t need those things right now, afterall. . . .

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IN: ON: November 15, 2011 TAGS: , , BY: Hilary
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Keep, Toss, Donate

Sunday, we spent a good chunk of the day with Morgan and Coever, cleaning out their room and their playroom.  Both rooms were overrun with stuffed animals, half dressed Barbies and scores of scrap paper from arts and crafts projects in various stages of completion.

Since we are coming up on the holiday season, Craig and I decided that before bringing in new toys, the girls should donate the toys that haven’t been loved on in a while.  Believe me, there were many of those.  You know you’ve got a lot of stuff when the whole clean up process is peppered with , “Oh yeah, I remember that!” and “Oh, man! I forgot I had that!” Goodwill is going to receive several hefty bags of plushies in need of good homes.

Surprisingly, Coever was the one who was tossing stuff into trash bags with reckless abandon. “Just get rid of it,” she kept saying as she scooped up Barbie hairbrushes, stray Legos and un-matched dress up accessories.  I held up a mini Kai Lan toy that Coever had begged, begged, begged for.  “Toss it!” she sang, as the trash bag got fuller.  Morgan, however, was tearing up as she bade good-bye to every leftover goody-bag doo-dad and toothless hair comb.  “But I — I need this!” she’d exclaim as she caught Craig tossing a cracked magic wand into the trash.  “Oh! Oh! This is my favorite thing ever!”she cried. I held up a naked, headless Polly Pocket.  “Really?” I said, “Then where’s her head?”.

Crickets and tumbleweeds.  Into the trash with Polly.

Sometime later, we were upstairs in the playroom separating items into keep, donate, and toss piles.  The girls were sorting through a mound of stuffed toys. Each animal or dolly was thoughtfully examined, given a few squeezes and sometimes a kind word.  The girls danced them around on the floor or on one another’s heads before relegating them to a pile.  As they got to the end, Morgan unearthed another one of Coever’s highly desired Kai-Lan dolls.

“Oh, Kai-Lan,” Morgan intoned to the doll, stroking it sweetly on the head,  “We have some terrible news.  Your sister. . .she’s been. . .donated.”

Seriously, I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried.

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IN: ON: November 8, 2011 TAGS: BY: Hilary
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Mondays Message

(source)

Several months ago, my friend Dena posted the following message as her status update:

A stranger stands next to me reading a letter. Turns to me and says, “I have to tell someone right away.  It’s benign.”

I got chills when I read that; I get chills now.  I know I can through a whole day with blinders on to only what is most important to me.  I haven’t held open the door for the person coming in a building behind me. I haven’t returned the “Hi, how are you today?” when all I want to do is exchange/return/purchase my item and get on with my day.  I’ve wondered “What the hell is she looking at?” when some random chick at the Y catches my line of sight.  I put my focus on myself at the expense of kindness towards others. And I know better than that.

When I catch myself being less than kind,  I think about what Dena experienced. I think about the above quote.  Try to be kind to at least one person you encounter today, because truly, you have no idea.

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IN: ON: November 7, 2011 TAGS: BY: Hilary
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