Parade Route Shoot: Let's Talk About the Weather (Again)

You know that point in the spring when it feels like somebody suddenly turned on a big heat lamp in the sky while you're still bundled up in your parka?  Well, that's how I felt this weekend, only instead of the parka, I was snug as a bug in my housecoat rug.  And I thought, whoa, summer is here.  Despite everything.  And a kind of summer-vacation-slash-carnival-something bubbled inside me (even though summer vacation skedaddled with algebra and carnivals are just plain creepy).  Finally, I could stop layering everything!  But wait . . . I like layering.  It's like getting a hug from my wardrobe.  Plus, I still have lots of as-of-yet unveiled, winter-into-spring ensembles (code for pictures in which I don't show my toes).  I'm pretty sure I blog about the whole eek-summer-is-here thing every year, but that's because I find it -- and indeed all transitions -- so jarring.  And because in the colder months, my toenails rival sloths'.  Nevertheless, as my mom always says, when it's time, it's time.  And time says that summer has spoken.  So, I'm heralding the season's first heat wave by saying bye-bye to bulk with a parade of pictures.  The outfits are new, but the things I made aren't.  Kind of like this pandemic and summer.

Top: POPSUGAR, Kohl's

Yellow Bow Barrettes 

Sweater: ELLE, Kohl's

Yellow Bow Glow Barrettes

Skirt: Amazon

Black Beauty Necklace

Skirt: Wild Fable, Target

80s Ella Barrettes

 Top: So, Kohl's; Bag: Nine West, Ross; Striped bangle: Mixit, JCPenney; Rhinestone bangle: Iris Apfel for INC, Macy's; Pink bracelet: Amrita Singh, Zuily; Black choker: Kohl's

Top: Candie's, Kohl's

Fabulous Felt Desert Dreams Necklace 

Top: So, Kohl's

Shoes: City Streets, JCPenney; Socks: Gifted 

Sweater: Wild Fable, Target

Bag: Francesca's

Shoes: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Green Pompom Bow Barrette

And . . . the parade route has come to an end.  So, see ya, boots and socks and sandals.  Because it's time to embrace my favorite season (for despite all aforesaid hemming and hawing, in my beach book, summer is hands and -- ahem -- feet above autumn, winter and spring) by wearing my flipflops.  Even if it's just to walk to the mailbox. 

Watch out foot bath.  These dogs are coming for you.  

Putting My Love Up on the Shelf: From Canada to Singapore With Detours in Between

That's right, Georgia Satellites, I'm putting what I love up on a shelf.  But then you're probably copacetic with that, as books aren't the same as a V-card.

For some time now, I've been on the hunt for a bookshelf for my craft room.  I wanted something sturdy yet unusual but sadly kept coming up empty.  Well, it turns out that the ideal piece was hiding in my own bedroom!  Unbeknownst to me, a regal relic of a crown molding-adorned shelf was tucked behind the dresser -- which is just the sort of surprise you get when you're married to a painter/contractor.  I loved it and had only one request: could the husband paint it yellow?  Not only did he oblige; he added a candy pink stripe!  The result is Greek revival meets Easter.  Which is to say wonderful.

Once the shelf was up, it was time for the best part: loading it with books!  I chose titles by authors ranging from L. M. Montgomery (O, Canada!) to Kevin Kwan (see you in Singapore), with a world of other worlds in between.  I've always found the L. M. Montgomerys to be especially beautiful, even if Anne of Ingleside has faded from yellow to cream.  But in a way, their careworn spines are even comelier now because they show how much I've loved them.  Kind of like The Velveteen Rabbit.  (Which is, ironically, not on this shelf.  Note to self: order from Amazon.)  Anyway, as I auditioned each book to add, I asked myself one simple question: Did I enjoy reading it?  This may sound like a no-brainer, but there's a huge difference between books I enjoy and books I tolerate.  Books I enjoy either support my worldview or turn it on its head, which is a fancy way of saying that they make an impression.  Books that I tolerate are more meh.  Yet like bad pizza, they have their value.  Because even mediocre books give the gift of escape, weaving a parallel universe with their albeit often subpar yet lulling word rhythms.

So, here's to books, the good, the bad, and the fugly.  And to my personal literary rainbow.  I love to look at it while I'm making things.

Which is more than I can say for the Satellites' mullets.

Toilet Paper Caper

These days, caper doesn't mean what it used to.  Just as excitement over toilet paper no longer means "decorating" your neighbor's house.  Now it's all about snagging some Charmin before your next bathroom incident.  And everyone's in on the search and the success stories.  On a recent episode of "Jimmy Kimmel Live!," Kimmel's three-year-old son burst through a fortress of heard-won rolls.  On Jim Gaffigan's YouTube channel, Gaffigan's head pops up from a sea of two-ply.  Finally, my Pinterest feed is, ahem, clogged with products boasting "I survived the toilet paper crisis of 2020!".  Well, I'm not Jimmy Kimmel or Jim Gaffigan.  But I am a person.  And I'm thrilled to share my own tp coup (while, for some reason, dressed like backwoods Barbie).  This is how it unraveled. 

I was trolling Walmart.com for essentials (i.e. another half dozen boxes of Nature Valley almond butter bars), when I pessimistically typed "toilet paper" into the search box.  I was expecting to see the usual toilet paper roll stands (such a tease!).  So, when Northern appeared on my screen, I couldn't believe it.  Northern, a brand I never even buy, suddenly seemed like the most beautiful word in the world.  It made me think of idyllic Scandinavian fishing villages, the northern lights, and, of course, not having to delve into my party paper napkin supply for intimate use.  I wasted no time adding two 12-packs to my cart; I'd been foiled before by waiting even a minute too long on the likes of Target.com.  Yet even after I completed the order, I had my doubts.  In this age of mass shortages, it was entirely possible that I'd get one of those sorry-not-sorry emails informing me that my Northern order had, well, gone south.  I'd been there before, you see (I'm talking to you Target), and like a jilted lover, I'd hardened my heart.  But no such email arrived and then, just two days after the estimated delivery date, the Northern landed on my doorstep with all the unlikely magic of a unicorn. 

More than anything, this hysteria over toilet paper shows that the COVID-19 pandemic has been something of an equalizer.  When even celebrities are clamoring to maintain personal hygiene normalcy, it makes you realize that we really are all in this together.  And that we all put our pants on one leg at a time.

And now, thanks to Northern (and Walmart!), my legs can be blessedly clean.

Keep Calm, Mom, and Have a Mimosa

What, you wanted brunch?  And a long-stemmed rose handed to you as, full of frittata and fresh fruit, you exit the restaurant into the May sunshine?  Well, buckle up, because it's Eggos and virtual violets for you, Madame Mama.

If you're anything like everyone else in the world, then you're keeping a tally of all the holidays and birthdays claimed by corona.  Today, of course, marks yet another fanfare-free celebration.  This Mother's Day, my family won't be sharing lunch followed by a Duncan Hines vanilla cake (white inside, not yellow) and presenting Mom with an array of Amazon Wish List-curated gifts.  Instead, I made my mom this card and dropped it in the mailbox (actually, I made the husband drop it in the mailbox, as I've yet to cross that hurdle).  I'd like to say that the look-what-I-made-for-you-in-school feel was intentional.  But the afterthought apostrophe and streaky colored pencil strokes happened all on their own.  The inside says, "Just a little produce from the person you produced."  Because I'm nothing if not Dad joke witty.

Later today, my sister and I are going to get on House Party with my parents.  I'll dress for the occasion; the least I can do is spare Mom the sight of my bedraggled, bathrobed self.  Also, it'll help prevent the old, "Aunt Tracy, your hair is a mess!" from my three-year-old nephew.  Actually, I don't mind that.  I miss the little tyke so much he could call me Carrot Top, and I'd say thank you.

Still, despite the whole holiday interrupted thing, there's an upside to time apart.  My mom and I are very close, and we talk on the phone every day.  But even so, in the old days, we were usually too busy to settle down to a proper chat.  One of us was always signing off to rush off to do something else, her to go to Zumba or yoga, me (like the premature geriatric I am) because "one of my shows" was coming on.  Now that we're both housebound, we have the luxury of talking as long as we want, and our conversations are deeper.  Well, at least they are when we're not focused on who scored chicken or bananas in the latest grocery order.  So, slowing down can be nice.       

This Mother's Day, I hope that you too find your own way to celebrate.  And that you're thankful for the little things. 

Like fresh produce in all of its forms.

Staying in and Branching Out

Top: Macy's

Skirt: Arizona Jeans, JCPenney

Shoes: Chase & Chloe, Zulily

Striped bag: Current Mood, Dolls Kill

Heart Bag: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Belt: Belt is Cool, Amazon

I'm happy to report that I received my shipment of wire and clasps!  I wasted no time using both to make these daisy necklaces:

 Yellow Mint Daisy Day Necklace

 Tangerine Cream Daisy Day Necklace

 Kelly Rose Daisy Day Necklace 

Turquoise Pink Daisy Day Necklace

I like them because they're sweet and simple, like the weakest link in a gal pal group on a sitcom.  Here they are with some more kitchen textiles I unearthed:

Like the Fiestaware dishtowels, they were from my bridal shower, and I thought that they were too cute to use.  (If you saw the state of my everyday oven mitts, then you would understand.)  Having the time to enjoy these treasures is a welcome bonus of this quarantine. 

In keeping with the kitchen theme, here's a view of a tree outside my window.  (Technically, it's from the window in the laundry room off the kitchen, but I'm sure the blog gods will let it slide.)  I thought that it looked haunting but peaceful, like Halloween on hiatus.  Also, that it would be fun to hang some necklaces from it. 

Maybe I can get the husband to scramble up there someday.

Pumped for Stump: Black and White and Read All Over

Fabulous Felt Desert Barrette

Fabulous Felt Black and White Roses Barrette

Over the Rain-blow Necklace

If I can (nearly) recycle this post title, then I can recycle this necklace (and these barrettes) too.  Also, the joke is on newspapers because I never read them.

I don't read comic books (excuse me, graphic novels) either, but this last dress kind of makes me want to.  Why is it that kitschy comic prints always feature romance instead of sci-fi?  Don't get me wrong; I prefer the romance.  But heroes and bad guys and death rays are a dime a dozen in the genre, and I can't think of a single such story that centers around amour.  I know what you're thinking.  Tote Trove lady, these pop art prints aren't based on comic books or even newspapers.  They're based on the work of renowned pop artist Lichtenstein. Touché dear readers, touché.  Still, would it kill Marvel to do something about star-crossed lovers?  Maybe a Romeo and Juliet style intergalactic battle.  Or at the very least, a prom where the punch bowl explodes. 

Girly biases aside, there is a graphic novel-inspired thing that I like, and not just because it weaves a little romance in with its intrigue.  "Stumptown" is the quirkiest show about Portland since, well, "Portlandia."  It's about the adventures of rough-around-the-edges, Marine-turned-PI Dex Parios (Cobie Smulders), who has a dark past and a heart of gold (aw).  She's one of those take-no-prisoners broads who lives on the edge but always does what's right, especially for her younger brother Ansel, who has Down syndrome.  She also has two dudes in her life: buttoned-up detective Miles Hoffman (Michael Ealy) and ex con-come-bar-owner Grey McConnell (Jake Johnson).  Watching her waver between them (and also some ladies; it's complicated) while solving mysteries only adds to the fun.  Will she pick squeaky clean Miles and right her self-destructive ways?  Or will she steer into the skid and choose fellow trainwreck Grey?  There's less suspense here than one might think because, as Dex indelicately quips to her suitors while staging a sting operation, both of them have "already been inside her."

Oh, Dex.

The artistic touches in this show are cool, too.  Dex drives a beat-up old car with a radio that spontaneously bursts into '70s and '80s pop hits.  She wears a navy satin bomber jacket with a retro orange and yellow sunburst.  And the first scene of each episode freezes into a comic book page just before "Stumptown" splashes across the screen.  Best of all, Dex is witty and ballsy and always gets the last laugh.  I don't usually watch crime shows and didn't think that I'd like this one, but its style and substance won me over.

So, if I have to gulp down my comic book bites with heaping spoonfuls of small screen sugar, then so be it.

I'd rather get cavities than court Comic-con. 

Throwing in the Trowel: Let's Say Happy May With Barrettes

Fabulous Felt Blue Leaf Barrette 

 Fabulous Felt Pink Leaf Barrette

Fabulous Felt Yellow Leaf Barrette 

Candy Gush Necklaces 

Top: IZ Buyer, Kohl's

Skirt: LC Lauren Conrad, Kohl's

Shoes: Guess, DSW

Bag: Xhilaration, Target

This era of limited paper goods has made me appreciate not just the practicality, but also the beauty of that unsung kitchen heroine -- the dishtowel.  Absorbent and so very homey, this timeless textile is always there for me.  So I decided to be there for it by using these striped Fiestaware fossils as backdrops for my new floral leaf barrettes. 

I say fossils because they're old.  In fact, it wasn't until I plumbed the depths of my dishtowel drawer that I rediscovered the yellow one.  My mom gave it to me as part of my bridal shower gift seven years ago, and I didn't want to use it because it was so lovely.  I really dig the contrast of the sunset-colored stripes against the, well, sunshine.  Probably because it reminds me of a tee shirt from the '70s.  Also, those disposable cups they used to give you at Roy Rogers and the movies.  Not that I was around during that decade.  But I just saw one on That '70s Show. 

As for the barrettes, they make me think of spring, and that makes me happy.  Even if I have no desire to grow real flowers.

I may have bonded with dishtowels.  But gardening and I will remain enemies.