A mushroom (or toadstool) is the fleshy, spore-bearing fruiting body of a fungus, typically produced above ground on soil or on its food source. 

I saw this one while out walking the dog and found it a little more inspiring than just fungus.  We've had very humid and rainy weather of late.  I love seeing these toadstools pop up, although I see many on-line articles about how to eradicate them.

Down the road, there is a fairy ring, which I find even more adorable.

Aren't these fun?  The ancients thought they were the work of fairies, you know, as in fairy garden fairies, the Narnia kind of fairies.  I took the picture below in Richmond, VA.

A mushroom expert put it like this:

"You have found a fairy Ring deep within the forest, a circle of mushrooms . . . Some people will speak to you of spore and fungus circle. They would say that each season of growth fungus sprouts outside the edge of the space it filled the previous season. Moving ever outward leaving depleted ground within the circle. Those who have opened their minds, hearts and souls to the realms of magic may speak to you of the fairies. Those who know the fairies will tell you that fairy rings are where the fairies dance and perform many of the rituals of their own magic." Mushroomexpert.com

They're more than spores and fungus to me, too.

You Know How To Whistle, Dontcha Steve?

I love film noire, those old black and white movies with the hard-boiled detective and the beautiful dame.   In my book, there is no better film noire other than To Have and Have Not with Bogey and Bacall.  You can see them falling in love during the movie and it is not hard to guess why they named their son Steven.

You know how to whistle, don't you Steve?  You just put your lips together and blow.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MheNUWyROv8

Dear Lauren Bacall, may you rest in peace  The world is a lot less classy without you in it.

The Tears of a Clown When There's No One Around

Robin, we will miss you.

Now there's some sad things known to man
But ain't too much sadder than
The tears of a clown, when there's no one around

Emeraude - Vintage Perfume Bottle

My grandmother always wore Emeraude perfume by Coty.

Emeraude is French for emerald.  It was first introduced in 1921. Helen wore it all her life.   This gorgeous ad is from the late 1940's or early 1950's.

The vintage perfume bottle pictured in the top picture was around for as long as I remember, perhaps influenced by the perfume she loved.  It once sat on the windowsill, the middle one, at 23 Wind Road East Hartford, Connecticut above the rosewood love seat with the muted floral pattern.

There are other beautiful perfume atomizers and bottles without or without a  vintage bulb device which are quite beautiful.

Still, Helen's vintage perfume bottle is the most beautiful in my eyes, because it belonged to her.

Gardening is an Instrument of Grace

Gothamist is a great New York City blog which I follow.  I love all things New York City.  A certain block in Brooklyn has been designated as the "greenest."  Re-posted above is a picture of one of the little gardens on this "green" street.

The sign reads, "Gardening is an instrument of grace."  I could not agree more, but was rather surprised to see this expressed in New York City.

Here's a link to the article:  http://gothamist.com/2014/08/06/greenest_block_brooklyn.php#photo-1

New York City has many amazing green spaces.  One of the most beautiful is the Clinton community garden which was originally the site of an informal dumping ground with all manner of nastiness including garbage, dead animals, decaying cars, etc.  Neighborhood mothers began the reclamation process and lobbied with the city which led to the beauty seen here today:

This, too, is an instrument of God's grace...beauty from the ashes.

For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities--his eternal power and divine nature--have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse

Romans 1:20

http://clintongarden.org/

Enjoy Flowers

I can't believe that I forgot to post this picture.  I found the big crate curbside.  Bruce did the lettering free-hand.   The tricycle and the fishing creel were discovered in a little junk store in Suffolk, Virginia on one of our drives.  The bright yellow shelf with shutter doors in the background was also a curbside find.  The planters are little tin Coca Cola coolers from the drug store and the pinwheels came from the Dollar Store.

I love words, word graphics, Scrabble tiles, etc. so when I found the "Enjoy" sign in a specialty garden store years ago, I was thrilled.  I have another one that says "Simplify."  I thought the notion of "Enjoy Flowers" was kind of fun!

This vignette is on the corner of Booker and Constitution, where quite a few people drive past.  In all these years, I've never had anyone take anything from my displays.  Just last night, a sort of rough looking woman with tattoos and a cigarette in her mouth stopped as she drove past and hollered out, "I can't wait to see what you''ll do next.  I love your yard, is just blesses me so much."  Jeepers, I wasn't sure what she was going to say, so I was very appreciative.

This area has a gas line running underneath that was leaking slightly for some time.  I kept smelling gas there and Portsmouth's Bravest came by twice with a little device to test the concentration of gas in the air.  I have a really good sniffer, which, in the work I do with folks coming out of jail and those who are homeless, isn't always a blessing.  The firefighters said that the gas level was very low and safe.  They were surprised that I could smell it.  Eventually Columbia Gas came on a routine inspection and fixed it.

Nothing grows in the ground there.  There's no sidewalk on that side of Booker Street and people were constantly cutting across my yard and letting their dogs poop on my flowers without cleaning it up.  We always clean up after Lulu and it bothered me.

Technically, most of the area is not on my property but belongs to the City of Portsmouth.  However, I am responsible for maintaining it, such as cutting the grass and weed whacking around the curb.  Well, I just figured that I would be a little more creative than just mowing.

Trying to take the high road, I created beauty there.  You know, I was thinking about "pure,and lovely" solutions to the cutting across the yard situation, you know, a "fruit of the spirit" solution.  What is more pure and lovely than flowers?

I kept this flea market gardening area in containers so that I can move the display when the city needs to address the utility lines underneath.  We also built a little brick walkway on our own property to add a some interest.

Wouldn't you know it!  Our city Housing Inspector advised me that someone had made a complaint about the little area to him.  I couldn't believe it.  I love Richard, he does such a great job.  He said, "Leave her alone.  It looks wonderful and she's (meaning me) just trying to make things look nice." Apparently the complainer was peeved that he couldn't cut across my property.  I bet his dog is the phantom pooper!  Or maybe it was him!

I could dwell on this man (name unknown to me), but I am instead dwelling on the lady in the truck and the bikers who pass by and smile and wave saying, "I love your yard."

Years ago, Mr. Crabby Man would have bummed me out.  At least we know which one of the Seven Dwarfs HE'D be and I don't mean Happy.  Not today, I've just been thinking:

Philippians 4:8

8 Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

Purple Petunia Bubble Bath

Carytown is a hip neighborhood of Richmond, VA.  We love to head up north for an hour and a half and stop for lunch.  Then we take a long walk down Cary Avenue and through the Monument and Museum Districts.

Virginia Commonwealth University is located in this area.  Instead of occupying giant, soul-less modern buildings, many VCU offices and classrooms are located in rescued old brownstones and mansions located throughout the neighborhood.

This witty flower display is located in front of a chic hair salon.  I fell in love with it.  The salon occupies a sweet old building, an early 1900's house painted that lovely green accented with lavender.  The lady in the tub is bathing in purple petunia bubbles.

I've seen old claw-footed tubs used for flowers before, but the mannequin and the petunia bubble bath took a lot of imagination.

Rainy Afternoon in Boykins, VA

Back to Saturday, we left Portsmouth after breakfast for the little town of Boykins, VA in Southampton County, VA.  Southampton borders North Carolina.  The railroads and agriculture built Southampton. This area was also the site of Nat Turner's Rebellion prior to the Civil War, an insurrection in which he and other slaves killed 55 people.

Boykins is much quieter these days, but still charming.  There are still a number of farms and livestock around.

We stopped at the Hungry Rooster and had an excellent lunch with great service for under $20.  They hadn't picked the Saturday dinner special yet when we were there.  I wonder what they filled in the blank space?

I loved this old sign hanging inside.  It made me hum King of the Road.

This Coke-swilling rock climber hanging from the ceiling was a clever display.

Our dear friend Mark recommended Boykins as a back roads driving destination.  Rather than sit and obsess about the rain and when the lights would go back on at home, we had a little adventure instead!

Demented Squirrel

After we cleared out the wasp's nest under my porch rocker, I noticed that the red toile tablecloth on the little table on the porch was all in disarray.  I keep an arrangement of  fresh daisies in a zinc milk bottle carrier there.  The edges of the tablecloth were bunched up over the top of the table.

I thanked Bruce for spraying under the table for wasps, but he hadn't.  I chalked it up to the wind and yucky weather and fixed it pretty again.

We have some skinny little windows overlooking the porch that you see as you walk down the stairs.  I couldn't bear to replace them when we did all the other, more conventional windows.  Last night, Bruce was ahead of me as we walked down.  Looking those long, skinny windows, he said, "Look at THAT."

A squirrel was trying to pull my tablecloth off and take it with him!  He's the culprit who has been messing up my carefully staged front-porch table. The daisy arrangement was heavy enough that he couldn't pull it off completely.

Bruce shooed him away.  I put some cashews on the table, thinking to distract him.  Here, take some nuts and stop ripping holes in the tablecloth.  We went to the gym.

I feel like my front porch is embracing all nature or something...bird nests, wasps, and now a squirrel. I have an immigration problem right on my doormat.  Hey, go to some vacant house and knock yourself out...poop, make a nest, make honey, sting passersby...do what you do.  Do you really need to be right here at 256?

When we came back, he had tried to get that tablecloth again!  He must be a temperamental decorator squirrel trying to line his nest and appreciates toile.  Perhaps he is a lifestyle blogger squirrel.  He's tenacious, I'll give him that.

He left the cashews.  I feel stupid about that.  "Hey lady, I spit upon your cashews.  Give up the tablecloth!"

Second Post Today - A Recipe

I don't think I've ever posted a recipe here, but WOW did I have something yummy for dinner.  This is modified from a recipe in last Wednesday's New York Times.  It is simple that it is stupid, but boy did this taste GREAT.

Use homegrown tomatoes or some good beef steak tomatoes from a farm stand.  Swirl some olive oil on a large place and the juice of a half a lemon. Slice and salt the tomatoes and arrange on the plate.

Thinly slice an onion and separate the slices, arranging them on the tomatoes. Thinly slice a green bell pepper and do the same.    Scatter fresh basil leaves across the top.

Swirl some more lemon juice and olive oil on top  Grind on some black pepper.

Add stinky feta cheese with a generous hand.  Perhaps you didn't know that the official name for it is stinky feta cheese.  This is a little-known fact.

If you are kinda friendly with your co-diner, share the plate and use two forks.  If you're in the same mood I was tonight, you will repeat all over again and try to avoid the other guy's fork as you stab into the same tomato. .

Seriously sublime.

What Lies Beneath

Saturday started off in a peculiar fashion.  At about 2:30 a.m. I woke to the loud sound of something hitting the ground behind my house.  Simultaneously, I heard that strange electrical waving hum that heralds the electricity going off seconds later.  And so it did.  

I find the absence of noise bothersome.  I usually listen to a news station from NY City at night or a “white noise” application on my phone.  Utter silence doesn’t work for me.

I tossed and turned until daylight when we were still without electricity.  I was so happy to see a Virginia Dominion Power worker in a cherry picker bucket working beside a crepe myrtle in my side yard area. 

My genius husband made coffee by heating water on the gas stove and running the boiling water through our electric coffee maker.  It worked perfectly!  It would have been a grim morning indeed with no coffee. Some of the other neighbors wandering around all coffeeless kind of looked like zombies wanting to suck down my coffee instead of my brains.  And can I say, later on in IHOP, it looked like a Shea Terrace Civic League meeting.

As I stepped out to investigate, I saw this sad sight in front of old Mrs. Lambkin’s 1920’s home on Idlewood Avenue right behind me. I believe she went home to be with God not too long ago and this tree must have been as old as she was.

At first I thought it took a lightning hit.  However, a closer look showed no scorch marks.  Sadly, the tree was rotting from the inside out.  It had beautiful, silvery green leaves and looked just fine from the outside.  The inside was rotting with unattended disease.  Friday night to Saturday early morning was slightly windy and the poor tree just gave up the ghost.

I grieve every time we lose an old-growth tree, but I am thankful the old live oak came down in the middle of the night rather than on a busy daytime street with bikers, walkers, children, and dogs passing by.

Reflecting on that old fallen tree as we went on with plans away from the house with no power, I thought about when Jesus said:

Matthew 23:27

You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean.

All sorts of folks walk around each day like whitewashed tombs or like that dying old tree.  The outside can look great. That tree was leafed out in splendor.

Whatever is festering inside is not resolved.  The disease grows.  This dis-ease can be unaddressed long-term situations, acting without reflecting upon motives, unforgiveness, bitterness about our lot in life, family problems which we deny or ignore or dysfunctional relationships we would rather ignore than face the pain of fixing.  We engage in obsessions or in activities to mask thinking about the problem.  We prop ourselves up any way we can as long as we don't have to deal with the underlying issue.  A drug of choice doesn’t always have to be an actual opiate. We hurt others in the process. 

Left to grow untreated, the rot at the core can literally kill us via high-blood pressure, heart disease, etc.  We can also kill relationships, dashing our own hopes and creativity in the process.  Finally, like the tree, all comes tumbling down and we are lucky if others aren’t hit in the process.

Get rid of whatever is festering inside.  Talk to a wise friend.  Give it to God and let Him clean it out.  Whatever you do, don’t leave it there.

And speaking of getting rid of stuff, do you like my new porch décor?  After such a weird day, imagine sinking into a nice porch rocker only to learn that wasps built a hive underneath!  I'll take stinging insects for $1,000, Alex.

Joni Eareckson - Soaring with Wings as Eagles

What can I say about Joni Eareckson Tada, which hasn't already been said?  Well, I guess I can talk about what a personal inspiration she is to me.  I remember before I knew God (instead of just knowing His name) I would read her books with longing to have a relationship with Him like she did.  I particularly remember one morning when I was so hungover that eating Grape Nuts sounded like an explosion in my head, but I kept reading.

She was one of a number of "seeds" planted in my past which finally bore fruit when I was in my mid-twenties.  Joni has continued to inspire me all these years with her courage, good humor, faith, and talents.

A few years ago, Joni faced cancer with the same steadfastness and inspired me all over again.

She's been cured, thanks be to God, and cancer free.  Joni and hubster, Ken, both work together in her non-profit, Joni and Friends.  Among other things, Joni and Friends sponsors camps for children with disabilities and their caretakers.

Check out her webpage and look at the video of Joni LITERALLY soaring like an eagle.  I'd be scared to do with WITH my arms and legs working  Watch a breathtaking demonstration of the Lord being our strength.

Love her, pray that God will continue to bless her, and thank Him for all she continues to do.  You GO, Girl!

Joni flies like an eagle

The Persistence of Memory - Redeem the Time

I was a real rebel (smirk) in my teens.  I'd cut out of school all the time to do risky teenage things to thumb my nose at my parents.  Uh,....not so much.  I would, indeed, cut out of school - which I found boring and not suited to my type of learning.  I'd take a train into New York City and smoke dope in a park?  Nope! Try to score some weed in Morningside Heights?  Ut uh!

I took time off from school without permission to (GASP) visit museums  I would learn by myself at the Museum of National History, the Museum of Modern Art, Lincoln Center (magnificent paintings by Marc Chagall adorn the inside), the Guggenheim, the Frick Collection, and the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

I marveled over the exhibit of Monet's years in his beloved Giverny.

Giverny

I loved that he painted as he did because he was so nearsighted...just like me.  I contemplated the differences between El Greco's "Crucifixtion" and Salvador Dali's painting of the same name from 400 years later.

"Rebel" that I was, I daresay I learned many more useful things that I would have in Mr. Vene's math class, which I detested.  I bet I am the only Ward Melville High School kid who cut classes to go to museums. In fact, I spoke with Jim Pew, my co-worker from Long Island,  who took the same opportunity to eat buttered bagels and drink warm "appropriated" Heinekens.  Don't tell his Mom.

One of the most fascinating paintings I ever saw is the one pictured above, Dali's "The Persistence of Memory."  Seeing paintings on the Internet doesn't hold a paintbrush to actually standing before the work and seeing the strokes of paint.  This is particularly interesting with Monet, to see up close that which seems abstract, then to back up and see the dots that coalesce into beauty,  Your heart breaks for Vincent, so tortured that it emerges from the thick smears of paint he flung onto canvas from a palette knife.

God gives us such amazing talents.  Some of this emerges in paintings like both Crucifixions or Michelangelo's magnificent work showing Adam just missing the hand of God.  Sister Wendy used her talent to become a major art critic by reading books and post cards depicting great artistic works.

Interview Sister Wendy Beckett

She is delightful.

But back to the Persistence of Memory.

Therefore be careful how you walk, not as unwise men but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil. So then do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is.…Ephesians 15 and 16.

The painting illustrates this verse for me.  I love the concept of redeeming time, which is found in the King James version. Other versions say "make the most of" time,  I like concept of redeeming time a lot better. We redeem time, by making the most of it, by taking advantage of all our opportunities to work for the Lord.

The clocks have become distorted and are slipping away, which (along with the desolate wasteland surrounding them) illustrates unredeemed time.

The late Stephen Covey (7 Habits of Highly Effective People) talks about time in quadrants as follows:

*Urgent and important (someone has to go to the ER)
*Urgent and not important particularly (someone is calling or knocking on the door)
*Important, but not urgent (Bible study, planning your next month or week, learning a new skill) and
*Not urgent and not important (gossipy phone calls, watching Law and Order reruns, stewing, fretting, worrying, thinking about hurt feelings, regretting the past, being angry with folks you believe spitefully used you).

Covey calls the last quadrant a "quadrant of waste."

Stephen Covey

Dali should have called his painting "The Quadrant of Waste" instead,  He's picturing unredeemed time in a wasteland.

Children of Light:  "Redeem the time, because the days are evil."

...And just for fun "The Persistence of Cookie"

Cookie, cookie, cookie starts with C

Saturday Treasures

We often take a country drive on Saturdays.  This time, we headed up north on the back country roads.

Yorktown has a great vintage store called Auntie YaYa's, where I found an old stepladder.  I've been wanting to find one reasonably priced for the longest time.  The ones I'd seen in the fancier, upscale antique stores were over $40 and all "rigged out," so to speak.  The one I bought was an honest little step ladder, unembellished, for an honest little price.  I can embellish for myself.  I "shopped my house" for the little items on the stepladder.  

We kept driving up to the Northern Neck area of Virginia, to Mathews County, another favorite, old-timey spot.   Doodle Bugs is a sweet little vintage place, also reasonably priced.  I think my suitcase "coffee table" is now complete with the help of the blue suitcases holding the magazines.

This picture makes it look like the world's longest coffee table.  It isn't, it is less than half the length of the couch,

I had to bring this beautiful cross-stitched table topper home for the living room corner where we often eat or work on our laptops.

The owner must have used some liquid starch on this.  I haven't seen it used in years.  I think I could have stood up the tablecloth on one side by itself it was so stiff,.  It did enhance the blue stitching so beautifully.

At one point, we were about 35 miles from home at Yorktown where General Cornwallis surrendered, ending the Revolutionary War.  Imagine our surprise to find our friend and neighbor, Neil, riding down the street.  Neil, say hi.  I am not sure which one of us was the most surprised to see the other so far from the neighborhood.

We headed home about 4 p.m.  I spent the evening fussing around to get everything in its proper place.

Cool Free Feature for an Android Phone

Bruce is always coming up with all these amazing programs for the computer and our Android phones.  For instance, last year when he was teaching at college, they needed a level for a project.  Everyone is looking around for one.  Bruce downloads a program which turns his cell phone into a level.  He has a flashlight program that turns the phone into...you guessed it.  His phone, plugged into the car radio, reads him Scripture while he drives to work.  Another program plays different sounds to help encourage sleeping (not while driving, of course)..everything from rainstorms to city traffic.  I'm the one who likes the city traffic sounds.  All of the applications he chooses are free of charge.

I think he outdid himself with the latest one, called Sketch Guru.  This turns photos into various kinds of artwork.  He took a pic from a July 12 blog entry honoring my sister's birthday.  Using the "colored pencil" function, he turned it into the sketch above.  I just love the detail on the old milk bottle with the cow on it!

I think I'll keep him!  He also makes great coffee and a mean egg sandwich,.

Refurbished Kitchen Cabinet

Inspiration Picture

Before Picture

After picture

The little picture in the middle is decoupaged in place.  My mother-in-law gave it to us years ago.  The colors are just wonderful.  It is an instruction on proper canning techniques in a delightfully 1930's typeface,  I've never really known what to do with it until now.  Click to enlarge the picture and see it better.

The Phone

I have had a black, rotary dial phone in my kitchen for ages.  The phone was from the late sixties.  I've been looking for a reasonably priced older phone from the WW II era for several years.  The refurbished ones are advertised for well over $200 and I won't spend that much.

We spied a nice one for less than a quarter of that, but it didn't work.  Bruce tinkered with it over the weekend and voila...here it is in use!

Oh, oops, here it is in another red head's hands: a Western Electric Model 302, patented in 1939.  In 1941, Western Electric changed the phones from painted metal to plastic for the war effort  Mine is the 1941 version

Years ago on Long Island, New York my Grandmother Dunn had a phone number which was expressed in both letters and numbers.  The letter exchanges stopped before I was born, but Nana continued to say something like this well into my teenage years: "This is Mrs. James Dunn and my phone number is Myrtle-4 5696, that's MY4-5696.  The actual number was 694-5696.

The number on the round dial in the middle of her phone still had the letter exchange,  This fascinated me as a kid for some reason.  I shared this with Bruce who set up the phone like this at our house:

Here's the phone in place on top of a kitchen cabinet:

Those wonderful spice containers were a birthday present from my amazing sister.  It is a little known fact, but she was one of the original Spice Girls.  Kerry was Ironic Spice.  You probably haven't heard about her unless you're a really big fan.  Posh Spice used to stand in front of her all the time.

A Day in Smithfield and My New Kitchen Counters

Smithfield Virginia (where they make the world famous Smithfield ham) is about 20 minutes away from us. The flavor is very much small-town America, with patriotic concerts on the lawn of their local paper Smithfield was founded in 1752 and many of the gorgeous old homes have been lovingly preserved,  They have such a sweet little shopping district.  After doing a bunch of mundane errands, such as buying my hair dye (ssssshhhh that's a secret) and printer cartridges, we decided to sneak away to Smithfield.

I this attorney's name always cracks me up.  Seriously?

Well, I guess he's being totally up front about who he is right from the start!

The dairy feed circular, metal advertising sign was purchased at Wharf Hill Antiques in Smithfield.  The owner has quite the discerning eye.  I feel inspired every time I stop by.

Wharf Hill Antiques Smithfield Virginia

They don't pay me to blog about them, nor do I receive a discount of any type. I just love the store.

Adorable gingerbreaded cottage in Smithfield.

This one is Bruce's favorite.

Smithfield dress shop.