Archive for the ‘one thing I love (Amy Stigler)’ Category
‘OUR’ LUNCH DATE. usually at our favorite sushi spot. although we try to do the occasional ‘date-night,’ lunch dates are a bit easier to squeeze in and they offer the perfect amount of time to reacquaint and revitalize. and afterward i always feel grateful that i have someone as inspired as my husband to share them with.
MY FATHER. For countless reasons. But today, on his birthday, I want to celebrate one of his many talents — woodworking. Every Christmas for the past decade or so my Dad has made each of his five children an heirloom worthy piece of furniture. Each piece is a testimony not only to his extraordinary skill, but also to his seemingly limitless generosity. Thank you Dad and Happy Happy Birthday!!
SIMPLE DESSERTS. I am not much of a baker. Which is to say that although I can bake I rarely do. This has as much to do with the fact that I don’t really need additional sweets in my life with the fact that its a time-constraint thing. But the holidays bring out the baker in me. So here are some of my go-to deserts. Hershey’s bars (my Dad’s favorite) and homemade chocolate cupcakes with chocolate frosting (also my Dad’s favorite). And Miette always helps with clean up.
BLANC D’CHINE. I have already established that I am a collector. But as I get older and my tolerance for clutter gets little-er I have focused my ever-seeking eye. Having said that if its ‘white’ and ‘patina-ed’ and ‘a pair’ it generally ends up in my keep. Like these ladies who travel from home to studio and back again. They seem quite content with their plight.
VINTAGE GLASS ORNAMENTS. You can never have enough. Well, I suppose you can, but we break at least a half a dozen a year so we keep a ‘cushion.’ I place them in bowls and vases and on mantels & trees. My kids love to view their reflection in them (like mini gazing balls) and my husband loves to shout ‘don’t drop!’ when they are doing so. Alas, they don’t always listen so the broom is always close at hand.
VINTAGE ANAGRAMS: I can’t get enough of letters. And words. And small messages. So I keep wooden letters on hand. And people find them irresistable. They can’t not create with them. (Try it.) Even my kids keep busy — writing EEXHD and TAF and GRAHAM IS GREAT.
OUR YARD IN WINTER. My memories are filled with trees. As a child I spent a lot of time daydreaming, looking skyward through branches and leaves and blooms. In the winter, I favored making snow angels to snow men (less work, more reverie). Another chance for recumbent repose. As I point my camera north I recall just how it felt: cheeks chapped, arms and legs akimbo, mind filled. I can even taste the falling flakes.
MY NANA. Who is 99. And lovely. And fading. And a huge inspiration (for her artistic nature, her attention to detail, her love of beauty). Here she is when she was a touch younger. Just a touch. This is how I will always remember her.
This jacket. For so many reasons. First, it heralds in the holidays (which, at our house, begins with november birthdays). Second, it reminds me of childhood parties filled with a mob of parents and cheek kisses and tom collins and clinking glasses. Oh, and the special privilege of staying up way (way) past my bedtime. And lastly (and perhaps most importantly) is the fact that my husband looks quite dashing in plaid.
LEGOS. Because without them we would all have cabin fever. Seriously. My oldest plays legos for at least an hour every day. Sometimes more. Weekends can be lego building marathons with my three children and husband hunkered on the floor surrounded by mounds of colors and shapes. Even my middle and youngest build away. Putting green with blue and red with orange to create asymmetrical towers and imaginative aliens. What am I doing during all of this quiet activity, you ask? Loads of laundry, paying the bills or sweeping the floor. Or on a good day writing a blog entry.