Elizabeth Turk | Artist

Did you see Elizabeth Turk’s sculptures in the May Traditional Home?  Given my own fascination with fabric and ribbons, her delicate marble sculptures hit the spot with me.

Ribbon #16, Standing

Collar #6

Cage: Box 7

Cage:  Will & Intention, Column 3

Mmm, that last one has me aching for a big bowl of pappardelle.  Gorgeous, gravity-defying beauties–aren’t they?

All photos are from Hirschl & Adler.

I Want to be a Church Lady

Are you like me and have fantasies of converting a church into a home?  An old library or a school would work, too.

My heart went pitter patter when I discovered this church for sale while passing through the small town of Maysville.

If only I could have looked inside.  It’s begging for a reinvention.  And the Good News is that you could always stay home from church.  Or something like that.

Some churches turned homes, from Freshome:

From Apartment Therapy:

And my favorite architecture crush, Atlanta’s own BLDGS:

It wasn’t a church, but this old simple box meets my untraditional standards.  This seemingly old auto body shop opens up to this courtyard.

And just because, you need to see my favorite house they renovated, the Ansley Glass House.  I ached for days after touring it on the Modern Atlanta home tour three years ago (which is coming up again and is always a June highlight for me).

Don’t you love how all the white-hair church ladies sit together and laugh and talk loudly during church?  Maybe that will be me someday…in my own house.

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Ladies and gentlemen, we have a name for our kitten!  It changed a million times before we settled on Marlowe–or Marley when one of us is feeling jaunty.  Thank you so much for your suggestions!  ”Cheddar” cracked me up.

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And, coincidentally with Memorial Day weekend coming up, my son and I had the most interesting conversation today with my husband’s 88-year-old grandmother about her and her husband’s experiences during War World II.  We  just finished studying about the war in his modern history book, and I considered it a precious gift for him to ask questions to someone who lived it and spent years away from her husband as he fought in Japan.  I’ll have to ask her if she minds if I share here.  So, for those who have fought for our freedom, more than ever I’m feeling that debt, thank you!  Have a wonderful weekend everyone!

We’re Almost Done!

The kids and I are entering our last week of school before we take a short break and then begin summer school, which is much more relaxed and less structured.  Ahhh…  I’m hoping to get some blog mojo back and hit the painting hard.  I had a little, tiny smoosh in the oils this weekend that got me aching badly for a big chunk of studio time.

April and May are crazy busy with school-aged kids, right?  Muffins with Mom, party days, field trips, and recitals.  Oh, you want to see my beautiful daughter at her ballet recital, you say?  Well, of course…

Where can I sign up for adult beginner ballet lessons?  There is nothing like watching miniature ballerinas to make me yearn my own childhood lost.  Certainly that gangly girl of yore could have summoned grace from somewhere within her abnormally-tall-for-her-age body?  Anyway, my girl moved with grace and beauty, no questions about that.

Can you handle any more adorableness?  Meet this kitten who has no name:

Well, it seemed Milo was a very sick kitty.  When I took him to the vet, the doctor examined Milo and promptly told me to take him back to the Humane Society so they could treat him.  Ugh, the Humane Society let me adopt a sick kitty!  Nice move with the kids, people. I took Trixie to the vet the next day so he could examine her for any signs of illness.  She checked out fine, and the timing was such that a patient before Trixie was a mama cat with 3 orange kittens.  The owner of the cat was looking to give away the kittens.  So that is how we’ve ended up with this PRECIOUS face.  Look at that pink nose and white muzzle!!  For the love all things irresistible!

After debating a long list of names (Louis-Philippe stuck for about 10 minutes), my husband in all sincerity suggested “Ricky Bobby,” so that, in his words, “We won’t come across as that pretentious vegan homeschooling family with a name like ‘Radley.’”  I didn’t think Radley was pretentious, maybe Louis-Philippe, but not Radley.  And who is judging people by their pets’ names?  Anyway, I laughed at his suggestion.  It was funny, but, “I can’t imagine calling the vet up to make an appointment for Ricky Bobby!”  And how can I baby talk “Ricky Bobby?”

Help!  Any name suggestions for this little fluff of sweetness?

Standardized Test Drawings

The last two weeks have been doozies.  It wasn’t anything major just a bunch of junk all stuffed into too small a pair of low-rise jeans–we all know what that’s like, right, at least we women post baby?  Anyway, I volunteered to help proctor the local homeschoolers standardized testing for two days.  The first day I didn’t bring amusements to pass the time.  So after I caught up with all my Facebook friends on my phone, it was pretty much stick a needle in my eye please!  The second day I brought Sharpies and a drawing pad—ahh, much better.

I also brought a piece of watercolor paper on which my 4-year-old had done a gray wash.

A quick drawing and a cheap frame are perfect above the steamy, greasy stove.

Okay, and humor me now, my 8-year-old son and I amused ourselves at break time with our snack–pistachios.

Please tell me you find these as hilarious as we did.  I think I was the only homeschool mom there in purple skinny jeans, hunched over a pile of pistachios, giggling, and taking photos of them with my phone.

The best part?  My son wasn’t the least bit embarrassed by me.  It’s a different story, however, when I crank up the classic Michael Jackson in the car and dance along.  PYT, Pretty Young Thing!  ”Stop, Mom!”

Finishing touches are slow coming in the kitchen.  I move things in and out daily on a trial basis.  But I LOVE the open shelves.  So easy.

I’m so sorry to be MIA on comments and emails.  Thank you for your patience!

Mama

We wait for the moment when they finally utter the words that make every diaper change and spit up worth it–”Mama.”  Then there are days when the word is strung together in multiples and the rapid fire tries my patience.  Motherhood is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.  I remember crying the week after our first child was born, saying, “Nobody told me it would be this hard.”  The thing is, our mothers have made it all seem effortless, right?  I didn’t see the exasperation on my mother’s face when for the 10th time that day I asked, “Mama?”  And she said, “What is it, Angie?”  For the 10th time I would stammer, “Uh…um…I love you.”

I pray my children know that even in the tense moments those sweet words don’t go unnoticed and they do warm my heart like no other.  I’m lucky enough to be called their Mama.

I made this painting in 1997 in my first painting class for my art degree.  I used a photo of my mother breastfeeding me and my grandmother’s bread recipe for the collage assignment.  Today it hangs in the laundry room because, well, my husband doesn’t want to see his mother-in-law’s breast daily.  Sorry, Mom.

So to our mothers who have breastfed us or warmed a bottle for us in the wee morning hours, thank you and happy Mother’s Day!  To Peggy and Sherry, my mother and mother-in-law, thank you for raising us with love, patience, sacrifice, and growing us strong on Choplets and cottage cheese loaf.  We love you!

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