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Mother’s Day – Blooming Through The Bitter & The Sweet

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Some celebrations are not always happy ones and Mother’s Day probably causes more angst than most for many people each year. If you’ve been reading GOTJ for long, you already know some what makes it both bitter and sweet for me.

The sweet is clearly visible in the image above. My daughter Miranda is only a few hours old in this photograph of my step-mom Cullene, holding her for the first time.

What I know best about ” mothering and being mothered ” I learned from these two precious people and it’s important for me to be sure they know it especially on days like today.

Cullene, like most mothers would tell me not to get her anything to mark this day, ” No gifts please, a card will be fine … ” and I understand exactly where that comes from especially with a child of my own, but while a card may be enough for her it isn’t enough for me.

Being so far away, I miss spending time sitting and talking with her in the chairs by the kitchen fireplace like we do when I’m there, making it more important for me to give her a little reminder of how much she means to me since I’m not close enough to show her in other ways.

A few years ago, I discovered that my favorite tree from my home in Georgia also grows here in Cornwall. Being in the southwest of England, we have just the right kind of environment Dogwood trees need to thrive and bloom.

When I first saw pictures of the jewelry my friend Leslye was making I fell in love with one piece in particular and it pleases me greatly to be able to give one of her dogwood flower necklaces to Cullene for Mother’s Day.

Leslye was the first blogging friend I met face to face as she lives in Atlanta and we’ve seen each other a few times since. Fittingly for today, her blog is a mother-daughter collaboration where she and her daughter share their photos and thoughts.

I like the idea of Cullene having a tangible reminder of what I am aware of everyday … that I am better able to bloom through the seasons of my life due in large part to her care and nurturing.

She won’t see this post until after she opens her present so I’m giving you a sneak peek at the lovely work Leslye does over at Autumn Sun Jewelry.

Autumn Sun Jewelry

Autumn Sun Jewelry

I’ve included two images so you can get a good look at the necklace before it’s boxed up by Leslye and sent, along with the bottom one so you can see it as Cullene will when she opens it.

Isn’t that the sweetest way to wrap a gift inspired by nature … I wish I could be there to see her face!

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Prom Night – My Grand Entrance

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The American tradition of a prom night bash for teens migrated to the UK some time ago and a conversation with some of the girls at our pub about their dresses sent me searching through my files for a photo of mine. I seem to remember floor length and sweet as being very in style in 1977 unlike what I think of as the “sexy too soon” look that has been the rage for a long time.

I’d be willing to bet none of the girls I talked with will be wearing anything as demure as my cream-colored Gunne Sax dress with all of its lace, and pearl buttons. I’m not saying sleek and glamorous should be ditched in favor of a dress that looks as if you’re practicing for a premature walk down the wedding aisle, but do girls have really to look so old, so soon?

In the photo above, I’m standing in front of my high school sweetheart’s house making some serious googly-eyes at him. Looking at it now you’d never believe the experience we’d shared less than an hour or so earlier when he’d arrived at my house to pick me up for the evening.

I’d spent all afternoon getting ready as I struggled to make my normally stick straight hair bend to my will. It took less time than I expected so I was ready before my date was due to arrive. My step-mom, Cullene saw his car (no limo for us) coming through the trees down the long gravel road that connected our home in the woods to the rest of the world. She suggested that I should go back upstairs so I could come down the curving staircase and make an entrance befitting my dress and the occasion.

Lifting the hem of my dress a few inches so as not to trip, I ran up the stairs and stood off to one side so I couldn’t be seen from below. I listened as my dad opened the door and greeted my boyfriend and then heard Cullene say, “Elizabeth, Scott’s here.” Pausing for a moment at the top of the stairs, I looked down over the railing smiling at my boyfriend who was wearing a dark suit that he could wear again instead renting a pastel tux, a look that was very popular that year.

It was the most dressed up I’d ever seen him as he lived in jeans and t-shirts no matter what the season, but I didn’t have time to think about how handsome he looked or what he might be thinking about my dress because as my eyes met his and I took the second step intending to glide down the stairs like a romantic figure in a Jane Austin novel, my new shoes slipped on the carpet causing my feet to go straight out in front of me as the heels of my shoes snapped off. I hit the stairs hard and slid on my backside, bumping down three or four steps before coming to a stop.

I was shocked out of my embarrassment when I heard Cullene say, ” Oh Elizabeth! Are you okay? ” Almost as soon as I said, ” Yes,” I heard my family begin to laugh nervously as if they were having trouble keeping it in but didn’t want to hurt my feelings. I was laughing too before long and poor Scott, who didn’t know what to make of us by now laughing like we were coming unglued, shook his head and walked towards the door doing his best to keep from losing it too.

After realizing my high-heeled opened toed sandals had suddenly become flats, I worried aloud about what to do for shoes until my dad grabbed a hammer and some small nails and pieced them back together so we could go on to the prom.

There are of course other parts of the evening that I remember, such as our expensive dinner with its tiny portions and the grandness the Fox Theatre’s Egyptian Ballroom, but the most memorable moment for me remains my dramatic entrance and how quickly I bounced back afterwards.

I’d love to hear your prom night stories if you have one or a most embarrassing moment if you’re feeling brave. 

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The Buttercups Cometh

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I remember the first time I walked through this field. It was late afternoon on Valentine’s Day and I was in Cornwall meeting John face to face for the first time. All it took was one comment from him for this special place to become my own personal “Field of Dreams.”

When he said, ” You should see this in May when it’s filled with buttercups,” I knew I had to come back.

We took a walk yesterday evening catching the last bit of good light and the first glimpse of the buttercups, which are not yet in their full glory, but they’re definitely coming.

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Love After Death

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Père-Lachaise Cemetery, Paris - 2010

I take a lot of photographs many of which are never seen. I save them for just the right story like the one I’m going to share with you now.

To read it you’re going to have to take a little walk over to the “The Write About Love Project” an idea that began in the cemetery where the photo above was taken.

It’s there now waiting for you so click on the link and go on over and see what you think about how one couple found love in an unlikely situation.

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Overnight Guests During Renovations … When Good Enough Will Have To Do

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Internet Photo

We’ve got company coming this morning and I’m trying to breathe through it. The house as you might expect is not really guest ready due to a kitchen renovation that has morphed into a couple of other big projects as well. We’ve managed to make it presentable with the dining room table in place and some of the artwork back on the walls, but many places are still very unfinished. There’s a hole in the wall where some electrical bits will be going in next week for the new boiler and it’s right in the place where I’d like to put the tile work you see above.

John and I are still in negotiations about this tile pattern. His only concern seems to be that as it’s behind the hob/stove top, it might get cooking splatters in the grout. I think he’s referring to his mad cooking skills particularly in the stir fry department. I’m joking here, I’m actually a messier cook.

I don’t think this would be a problem, but what do you think? Suggestions, experience … please share your backsplash stories in a comment.

Going back to our guests … they are staying overnight so they’re sure to notice the all the little things that would normally drive me nuts. They’ll have clean sheets, and a tidy bathroom along with a good meal and a glass of wine, but the never-ending dust and the shift in the placement of things makes it all feel a bit off-balance to me.

It’s silly really … all this trying to control things that I can’t right now.

Fingers crossed nothing odd turns up in the food tonight.

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False Advertising In People And Products

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I hate deception.

Some might say it’s just marketing  … expect it.

I broke a blusher recently, a small bit of enhancement in a compact container I’d purchased to put a little color in my cheeks so my intentional lack of sun wouldn’t make me look unhealthy. I tend not to wear it everyday, but as needed and never overdone. Given how little I use, it can take me a while to discover that I’ve been misled into believing there’s more in the container than it appears.

I hate being misled.

Recently I’ve discovered someone I was “friendly with” has acted in a decidedly unfriendly way towards me. What makes it interesting is how this person has remained virtually the same in their behavior to my face but behind my back, oh my!

The worst part is not how blind I was to it, but how much of my energy over the last few days has been focused internally as I’ve wondered why I suddenly became the subject of gossipy untruths and what to do with my disappointment.

Gossip is currency to some people, I get that and I really don’t mind if people talk about me if what they’re saying is the truth and they have my permission to share it.

Making it up as you go is never a good option because it just takes one slip up for the depth of deception to be revealed. Discovering how little there really was to my pot of blush after it broke when I dropped it was disappointing, but not unexpected. The lack of substance in someone I thought might become a friend caught me completely by surprise given some of our conversations.

I tend to be a bit of a “Pollyanna” with my optimistic enthusiasm and I may add a little blush when my cheeks need a bit of color, but I don’t make stuff up unless I’m writing fiction and I know when to let go.

I used to subscribe to the “three strikes and you’re out” way of thinking that began with American baseball and is now part of the U.S. legal system, but as I’ve gotten older I have less time for games and Maya Angelou’s method makes more sense.

When someone shows you who they are … believe them the first time.

 ~Maya Angelou

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Kitchen Renovation Week 2 – Is that Dust In My Soup?

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I have to be really honest with you. Aside from emptying some cabinets of their contents, taking a few pictures and helping with the design decisions, I haven’t done any of the real work involved in our kitchen renovation. John’s the workhorse here. After Bob and Brian packed up and went home late last week, John got out his tools and went to work. Here’s a bit of what he’s been working on over the last few days.

I know the ceiling looks as if we’re making a dubious color choice, but have no fear … we are not going with a milk chocolate-colored ceiling. It  turns light pink as the plaster dries and then we’ll paint it white. Remember the door that was on the other side of the wall? If you look below you can see where it used to lead to before John closed it for good.

The master bedroom and my studio space were until a few days ago only accessed through a door at the top of the stairs that no longer exists. After John sealed it up, my feet kept wanting to walk the same way out of habit so I stuck a note on the wall to remind me. It’s only a few steps beyond the remaining door, but I got tired of having to back up. The “Closed” sign made John laugh when he saw it and later when I went into the kitchen I noticed he’d posted a sign of his own.

I thought his “Open” sign was pretty cute, but I was really impressed with how he reused the old doorway to close in the new opening from the kitchen to the hallway. 

This photo should have been before the last one as he hadn’t completed the door frame yet, but it gives you a good look at the wall to the right where he closed off the old doorway. The dark boards against the wall are from the hallway. It’s the same wood flooring that runs through the master bedroom and my bathroom and studio space.

Here’s what the space looked like today. Didn’t John do a great job? I’ll be painting the door white over the next few days so it blends in better with the wall and we’re getting rid of all the brass wall plates too. We’re leaving the half-glass door as it is with its natural wood finish.

We’re thinking of oak planks for the kitchen floor, but we’ve got to live with it kind of patchy (like the spot above) while the rest of the kitchen is being finished. John said it’s going to be a few months (more like August) before we’re through with the kitchen/dining room renovation so if you’re coming to see us this summer consider yourself warned. It’s pretty dusty here.

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Sublime Doughnuts Voted Best Bakery In America – Is World Doughnut Domination Next For Kamal Grant?

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Chef Kamal Grant - Owner Of Sublime Doughnuts

Last summer I spent a few extra months in Atlanta trying to sell my house. Due to the huge slump in the housing market, I did not find a buyer. I did however discover a special bakery only two blocks away.

I wrote about my Sublime Doughnuts experience after meeting with my friend Kimberly Krautter to sample a selection of the yummy and unusually named doughnut treats. You can read more about my sweet send off last summer and Kamal Grant’s recent Best Bakery in America award, but you do so at your own risk.

Don’t say I didn’t warn because you’re going to have a craving that might be impossible to satisfy … at least until you get a chance to bite into one of these lovelies.

Elizabeth Harper, Kamal Grant, & Kimberly Krautter at Sublime Doughnuts in Atlanta Georgia

After reading about the recent opening of a Sublime Doughnuts in Bangkok, Thailand, I’ve decided that it might be a good time to make my  move if I want to try to bring a Sublime Doughnuts franchise to Cornwall.

Hmm … I wonder how Brits feel about doughnuts?

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Forget The Dog Chew, Just Pass Me A Pint

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There’s something special about a place where even your dog can have a seat at the table. I had to take a photo last week when I walked past a family having lunch in our village pub and saw Maisie sitting there like she was waiting for her order.

Interestingly, while dogs are allowed in this part of the pub, children are not. There’s a special family room for people with children under thirteen and yes, dogs can go in there too.

I love this picture … I can almost hear the man saying, ” No Maisie, you may not have a pint. I told you before we came, you can have the dog chew the barman gives you, but no beer, not after the last time! “

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Raise Your Hand If It’s Your Birthday!

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My sister Jennie has a birthday today … she’s the baby with her hand in the air. She was eight months old in this photo and that’s me holding her. My fourteen year-old sense of style was a bit lacking back then as evidenced by my summer blouse at Christmas topped off by my dad’s old army cap.

Jennie was barely five when I enlisted in the army and acquired some military head-gear of my own. I hate what hats do to my hair and I’ve never  been able to wear them as well she does. I tend to think of hats as necessary to keep the sun off or to stay warm if it’s really cold outside, but Jennie does it with flair, making them both useful and a fashion accessory.

She’s in the mountains today having a birthday weekend away with her mom, my step-mom, Cullene. I borrowed the photo below from her Facebook page. Cullene took it last year when they were snowed in and it illustrates what I mean about Jennie’s ability to pull off a hat and look good doing it.

Happy Birthday, Jennie. If there’s a party hat involved today, send me a picture so I can post it.