In Awe of Lavender

I am turning into a lavender freak. It started when I found a little bottle while cleaning out some drawers at my Mom’s house. The bottle looked small, dark and mysterious. The handwritten label said Lavender Oil. I have no idea where it came from or why she had it. Mom has never been into alternative therapies or aromatherapy.

I opened the bottle and took a whiff. It was strong but familiar, sweet but tart at the same time. I wasn’t a freak about lavender scented things but it smelled really good. I think I had some soap once that I liked but that was it. I replaced the bottle and didn’t give it another thought as I finished up my cleaning.

Later that night when I was drifting off to sleep, I could still smell the lavender’s sweet scent. I must have gotten some on my hand or something when handling the bottle. It smelled good and I breathed it in deeply. I drifted off imagining myself in a field of lavender out in the country somewhere. It was delightful.

A few nights later, I was having trouble going to sleep. A lot was on my mind and I couldn’t shut it off. I remembered the little bottle of heavenly scent that carried me away to sleep the few nights before. I slipped into my Mom’s room and got the little bottle out. I sprinkled a few drops on my bedding and lay back down surrounded by the deliciousness. I drifted off to sleep in no time.

Once home, I bought a little bottle of purple goodness to keep around. When I burned my arm pretty good on the side of the oven when I was wrestling with the Christmas ham, I searched online for home remedies. There was lavender oil as a way to promote healing and keep scarring to a minimum. I slathered some on, and it tingled in a good way. The large 2” x 2” burn healed up quickly with little remaining evidence of me being a klutz tussling with a ham.

I recalled how nice it was to drift off to sleep inhaling the sweet goodness. I sprinkled some on my bedding here at home too. I do it every night now. I found a jar of lavender face wash granules I bought at Trader Joe’s years ago and was still hidden in my cabinet. Score! I use it every night now too. It’s yummy.

Thanks to the wonders of the interweb, I have found lots of info about how helpful lavender oil is. Here is a resource but the evidence is mostly non-scientific. I don’t care. I just love it. I even downloaded the above photo as my laptop background. Just seeing its gorgeousness relaxes me. People talk about finding their bliss. I think that I have found mine in a tiny dark bottle of mysterious goodness.

It’s Official, I’m in love!

Ok, I admit it. I love Pinterest. Often I feel bombarded with the newest tech/internet offerings. Bandwagon jumping, anyone? I try to check them all out but most fly over my head and land over there somewhere. Some look interesting and I will test the waters but I’m not one to be on the cutting edge of the newest and greatest. Some I see catching on, and I’ll get there eventually (hello, Instagram).

Pinterest is one that I started watching and joined but didn’t really get. Many tout it as the newest marketing genius way to build followers to market business. Not sure about that yet quite yet though. What I have found it great for is organization. The OCD side of me LOVES it for that!

Since it’s the start of the New Year and everyone tries to get more organized (in addition to quitting something, starting something, maintaining something) I will suggest you consider Pinterest.

I work on about 5 different computers on any given day depending on where I am and what I am doing. Since I have business schizophrenia, I have to stay organized and keep files, photos, documents, templates, etc., handy all of the time. Dropbox is great for this, but it gets full, fast. Sometimes I just want to save a recipe I read about to try later.

Pinterest to the rescue! Although I’m not that interested in keeping things for others to see and share, I’m thrilled when someone follows what I am doing and saving on there. I have only begun to search for information from others on Pinterest and now see it has a great tool for ideas and inspiration. The other day, I needed a recipe for poppy-seed dressing. My normal routine would be to just Google for it, but it’s lots more fun to see what people have saved on Pinterest. I find great people to follow and all kinds of inspiration there. I also found numerous great recipes for poppy-seed dressing!

One of the best features is the ability to access what I have saved there from anywhere, even my phone. The mobile app is easy peasey and has saved my bacon more than once when I needed something fast.

If you haven’t joined in yet, I bet you won’t be sorry once you do. It feels daunting at first, but after a few clicks around checking out how it works, I’ll wager you’ll end up loving it too for all kinds of reasons. We all need more organizational tools that work well. This is one that does. Don’t hesitate to give me a shout if you have questions or want to know more. I’m no expert, but I’m happy to share what I know. Below is a link to my “page” if that’s what you call it. My “boards” are diverse but they work for me. That’s the beauty of Pinterest, you can make it whatever you want to for you. You can even have “secret” boards that no one else can access (I use these also for documents and limited access for ideas I need to share with clients privately).

Give it a try. Let me know how you like it and send me a link to your boards, I’d love to follow you and see what inspires you!

Click HERE to see my Pinterest boards!

Tastings of The Past(e)

Smells are known to bring about strong memories from past experiences. I have found that certain flavors can do the same thing. It is imaginable that both negative and positive memories can be brought about by flavors, but for me, they are all very strong positive ones. A certain dish or flavor can transport me back years and years. The term “comfort food” is from this very thing I am sure.

Tonight I was making lasagna. I don’t recall making or even eating lasagna during my childhood. I don’t think we ever had it. Some of the parts, however, sparked strong memories tonight. I had the remaining grated mozzarella cheese and what was leftover in the bowl of tomato sauce. I grabbed the spatula to whip the sauce into the pan when something popped into my consciousness.

I swiped up some of the sauce and then piled on some shredded mozzarella and then took a big ol’ bite of it. Oh! Heaven on a spatula! I grabbed a spoon so I could get more sauce and cheese at one time. I did this until it was all gone. Immediately, I was taken back to about when I was 7 or 8 years old. It felt like I was right back there in my Mom’s kitchen on any Saturday night in San Diego.

Every Saturday night (or so my memory tells me) Mom would set out two boxes of Appian Way Pizza kits. I’m not sure if they just hadn’t invented pizza delivery at that point in time or not, or Mom was just too frugal to spend the money on take out pizza, but we made our pizza at home. We were cool like that. This ritual started pretty early in my life as I recall.

When I was really young, I would just assist. I’d get to grate the ball of mozzarella cheese and then divide it into two piles on a paper towel. I worked really hard to make sure the piles were really even so neither pizza got cheated of its cheesy goodness. I was afraid of the hand held grater. Once in awhile I would nick a knuckle and it hurt like the dickens. Carefully, I grated the cheese all while trying to keep errant grated body parts out of the pile of cheese (I know, ew).

When I was a bit older, Mom let me smash out and spread the dough from the kit onto the two pizza pans. That was my least favorite part. The dough was sticky and my hands would get really nasty. It was years before I figured out that I could coat my hands with flour then my hands would remain unfettered. Mom wasn’t much in supervision or offering handy tips. I was left to my own devices to figure out this important stuff.

By the time I was about 10, I was full on totally in charge of making the WHOLE two pizzas. I was a pizza making rock star. I figured out the flour thing, grated the cheese like a buzz saw and without donating tissue (yeah, I know, ew), and even sliced the pepperoni. It came in a little chubby sausage shaped two pack, joined together by a string of the outer casing that had to be cut carefully and evenly (I was pretty OCD then too. We just didn’t have a name for it then. Everything had to be even steven).

Packed inside the Appian Way Pizza box kit was a little pack of flour mix and a little can of specially flavored tomato sauce. As I recall, those were the only two items in the kit. You added water to the flour mix, spread it out with your sticky hands, then spread out the specially flavored tomato sauce (which was a really secret recipe, I’m sure). Then you used your own grated cheese and what ever other toppings you wanted. We just wanted pepperoni. Putting anything else on pizza then was just not an option. This is no doubt the reason I only want pepperoni pizza even to this day. This really bugs my husband. He likes other things like stupid vegetables on his pizza. Ugh. If you want veggies, just eat a salad with your pizza, duh. Meat and cheese. Those are the only two things that go on a pizza. Right? Thank you.

This is where the tomato sauce and mozzarella come in. So after spreading out the tomato sauce evenly (natch), I would tenderly grab up little gobs of cheese and spread it around, also very evenly. I would move around little bits of cheese to make sure there wasn’t a nekkid tomato sauce spot showing without cheese (I can hear you rolling your eyes). The only problem was that I never used ALL of the sauce or cheese. Silly me. There was always some left over. After using the back of the large tablespoon to spread around the sauce, there was some sauce still on the back of the spoon. I didn’t want mess up the counter and set it down so I would lick it off. Probably once there was some cheese stuck to it to. The combination of the two unbaked delicacies was too much to ignore. And too good. Each Saturday night, I would use less and less of the sauce and cheese on the pizzas. That would mean there would be more to eat for Chef Lorelei The Princess of Pizza Making. No one was any the wiser which made the whole scheme even sweeter. I seldom got away with anything while growing up but since no one was ever in the kitchen to help me make the pizzas, I was golden. Mom had left me to my own devices years earlier. Everyone else was off doing other Saturday night things until the pizzas were done. I even recall slicing the pepperoni sticks extra thinly so I would net more for pre-eating and no one would notice. Very clever. I really should have been in the gifted class. Oh that’s right, they hadn’t invented that yet.

I had forgotten all about this pizza hi-jinx until tonight when I licked off the sauce from the spatula so I wouldn’t have to mess up the counter sitting it down there after all of the sauce was in the lasagna. Good thing I had managed to leave some extra sauce in the bowl. Then I spotted the cheese. There was plenty since nowadays, we buy the ginormous bag of pre-shredded mozzarella cheese. I don’t even have to worry about grating that little ball of mozz with the grater from hell (or use the Cuisinart – duh). In fact, since I’m now a grown up and buy my own groceries and still cook without supervision since my husband is usually no where nearby when I’m cooking, I could eat an entire can of tomato sauce with a spoon and sprinkle little bits of cheese onto each tasty bite. I won’t though. That wouldn’t be special at all. I think that I am going to make lasagna a little more often though. I wonder if I can find Appian Way pizza kits anywhere? That would be even better.  

The Falling Down Farmhouse & Doris Roberts

When you live in an old house, weird things happen. Our house, which we call The Falling Down Farmhouse, certainly qualifies. On paper, it’s not that old. The tax man says it was built in 1931. A former owner has explained that, actually, it’s built from parts and pieces of what were officer’s living quarters from Ft. Spokane in Kettle Falls, WA that was built in the late 1800’s. That explains a lot about how ours is built, or I should say, not built but more about that another day. Suffice it to say, there is a rich history here and with that comes some other phenomena. It seems to have come with some hangers on.

We didn’t notice it right away, but after settling in we realized there were some odd things going on. The first time, we were sitting in the kitchen and heard someone walking up the old wooden staircase. We looked at each other then ran in to look up the stairs. No one was there. We shot up the stairs and both the bedroom doors were closed and no one was up there. Weird.

Sometimes, we hear the upstairs doors open and slam shut. Again, no one is up there but we both hear it. We always make sure the doors are latched shut so that the cat won’t hide away up there and leave surprises. Although we hear the doors open, they are always securely latched.

Other times, often late at night, I am working at my desk in the little office I use. On several occasions, I hear the kitchen door open and close. It scrapes along the bottom threshold and has a loud, distinctive sound. I get up and go to check it out (I’m not fainthearted that way). The door is locked, deadbolt secure and Mark tucked in asleep in the bedroom. Sometimes there has been fresh snow on the ground and I can see there are no footprints. It oogs me out a bit, but I return to my desk and try to shrug it off.

More than once, my husband has felt someone grab his shoulder, and once his foot. The shoulder thing happens when he was standing in a certain place in the kitchen. The foot grab happened when he was lying in bed. We also smell fresh cigarette smoke. We don’t smoke, nor do we have neighbors nearby (quarter mile away is the closest), so it is unexplained. Sometimes we both smell it, and sometimes when I am home alone it happens. It isn’t stale smoke that could be emitted from something we brought home.  It is fresh, acrid smelling cigarette smoke.

Recently, we had a friend here for a barbecue. He told us later than when he came into the house, he felt someone grab his shoulder and at the same time, he smelled fresh cigarette smoke yet no one else was in the house. He was standing in the same place in the kitchen my husband was standing when he was grabbed. We now call that spot The Portal.

We have decided to call the “visitor” Doris Roberts. We would rather think of “it” as a friendly, funny grandma type who is hanging around than some malevolent being out to exact revenge or evil upon us. Doris hasn’t really been too active in the past couple of years except for scaring the bejeezus out of our friend last summer.

That is, until the other day. I was searching for something that was buried in the freezer in the kitchen. I was taking out things one by one and stacking them on the counter nearby. I reached in and pulled out a little antique perfume bottle (pictured) that was crammed behind a pile of frozen vegetables. It was one that I had bought years ago. It usually lived in the kitchen window sill displayed with some other pretties. I hadn’t noticed it was gone as I’m always moving things around, or selling my treasures on eBay. I was stymied though when I pulled it out of the freezer. My husband was sitting at the kitchen counter and was as surprised as I was. I asked him if he put it in there as a joke and he swore he didn’t. I believe him, as that is not his typical type of prank. We looked at each other and said “Doris!” at the same time. Apparently, she was redecorating or stashing it away for safekeeping. No one has been to our house since the time I had seen and dusted it in the window sill either (we don’t get much company out here in the farmlands). There is no one else who could have moved it.

Our perfume bottle mystery will remain just that, a mystery. I’ve been trying to pay closer attention to any errant sounds or smells in the last few days since this happened. Nothing else weird has happened. Recently, we have been replacing parts of the house. New doors (that don’t scrape), windows, paint and the like. Maybe Doris doesn’t like that. Who knows? If I happen to smell her lighting up a cigarette, I will try to ask her.

A Passion for Pie

HERE is our article for October’s Prime Magazine. Just a warning; it will make you hungry.

CHRISTMASTIME IS HERE!

The holidays are upon us. Today is Black Friday. I’m not a fan of the term nor am I fan of the whole frenzy that retailers have created that has sapped the meaning and importance right out of Thanksgiving. However, my feelings about that subject will be saved for another post on another day.

The holidays have also taken on a meaning that is far and away very different than their original meaning and intent. Most of us can recall the speech Charlie Brown gives during his Christmas special about the commercialism of Christmas. In the 1960’s, when that show was written and produced, Christmas was still somewhat traditional and meaningful. In the 50 years hence, it’s exponentially exploded into not much more than retail frenzy. Being a former retail owner, I can attest to the importance of a high sales level during the holidays and how my business depended on it. I can also, however, attest to the fact that it doesn’t need to be the frenzy it has become. I’ve learned this lesson first hand.

Would you like to know how to survive the craziness and pressure of the season that is supposed to bring about great joy and gladness? Learn to say, “it doesn’t matter.” Really. Three little words. The power of those words is immeasurable. Practice with me saying them over and over and over. Not that I am suggesting you just give up, stay home, turn off your phone and veg out on the sofa for the duration of the season. Far from it. Try to think about what is really important in the larger scope of things.

I learned this phrase about 25 years ago. I had really bad perfectionist tendencies and they were getting worse all of the time. I was driving myself crazy mired in endless details and pressuring myself to perform at such a high level, I even made Martha Stewart look like a crème puff. Then I read a magazine article about learning these three magic words.

The example was explaining how a young mother was getting ready for her 3-year-old daughters birthday party. The guests were due to arrive soon and she discovered that she forgot to buy balloons. Now what 3 year old can have a birthday that didn’t include balloons? She became unglued at her realization and knew that there was nothing she could do about it. There was no time to get them and no one she could call to bring some. What would her friends think of her? What mother of a youngster gives a party without balloons? The party would be ruined. Still, there was nothing she could do. She decided she would just go on and hope no one noticed.

She discovered after the party that no one noticed and she had forgotten all about them. The party was really fun and her daughter was delighted. She learned that it just didn’t matter. From that moment on, I’ve learned to say those three little words when something doesn’t go my way or I make some ginormous error. Of course, we give everything our best effort, but there are times we should just choose to say enough is enough. Everything does not have to be perfect.

This season, try to par down your to-do lists. After every item you put on your lists, ask yourself if you really have to buy or make that thing. Do you really need to make cookies for Jimmy’s recital or could store bought suffice? Does it matter? Will people care or even notice? After a few of these decisions, you will discover that your sanity and January credit card statements will be in much better shape. Try to put the meaning back into your efforts. Just making the time to attend Jimmy’s recital will mean much more to Jimmy than the treats that are served afterwards.

Let us know what you do that is different this year. We would love to hear it. Merry Christmas and we look forward to a prosperous New Year with you!

Itching To Get Outside??

…but you can’t due to the inclement weather? Neither can we. Get in the mood while you’re stuck indoors by planning a new deck or making improvements to yours!

A few cost-effective add-ons can give a modest deck an edge and deliver a handsome payback should you sell your house.

Hidden fasteners for decking

For years now, deck screws have been the fastener of choice. (Nails, prone to popping out over time, are old news.) Deck screws come in a useful range of colors, won’t corrode, and hold exceptionally well. However, even when installed carefully, they cover the deck with rows of little pockmarks—tiny depressions that may have splintered edges and trap dirt.

Enter the hidden fastener. This clever innovation holds deck planks down while leaving the surface looking sleek and minimalist. There are scores of hidden fasteners on the market, each of a slightly different design. One category fastens with a screw to the framing and grips the side of each plank with barbs. Another fits into a groove in the side of the plank (some composite planks come with this groove) before being fastened to the joist. Yet another type fastens from underneath the deck, firmly snugging the decking onto the joists.

Hidden fasteners are labor intensive to install, which adds a premium of about $4 per square foot compared with the cost of an installation using deck screws. However, many deck owners find the investment worthwhile, especially if they have selected composite, vinyl, or premium wood decking and want to show off these materials to best advantage.

Adding style with planters

Planters give a deck character. The various shapes and sizes of planters add texture and color. Built-in versions, often made of the same material as the decking, can be positioned to separate seating areas from cooking areas. When planted with tall plants, such as ornamental grasses, they can act as living privacy screens.

Wood planters typically are lined with galvanized sheet metal, plastic containers, or are built to conceal standard pots that are easily removed for cleaning or planting. Planters made of pressure-treated wood sometimes forego the liner altogether.

With all built-ins, some means of drainage is necessary, which may mean you’ll have to bore holes in the bottom of the container. Because excess water will drain from the bottom of your planter, you’ll need to be mindful of where you position the planter. If you hire a pro to custom build your deck planters, assume a cost of $150 to $250 labor and materials for each lineal foot of a 2-foot deep and 2-foot high built-in planter.

Built-ins aren’t your only option. Home centers offer a wide variety of planters available at prices from $10 to $200. Ceramic or cement pots can be a decorative feature, running $50 and up for a 2-foot tall container. Hanging planters (about $25 each) are a great addition to a pergola or trellis. Planters that attach to the railing ($70 for a 40-inch-long terracotta planter with metal holder) all but disappear when filled with plants.

Cable railings

Railings are typically required on any deck when the decking surface is more than 2 feet above ground. Railings are the most visible part of the deck from ground level and offer a great opportunity to echo the colors and architectural details of your house. However, if you are lucky enough to a have a scenic vista (or just an awfully nice yard) you won’t want the railing in the way.

One solution is a cable railing–thin stainless steel cables strung tautly between wood or metal posts. This alternative looks great, preserves the view and, at a cost of about $70 per lineal foot for a pro installation, is about $1,200 more expensive than a standard wood railing for a 16×20-foot deck. To further spare the budget, consider using cable only where the view is important and use wood elsewhere. Or, if you are handy, do it yourself for a materials cost of about $25 a lineal foot.

Taming the sun with shade sails

Overhead structures like wood pergolas and trellises help shield a deck from the sun, adding a pleasantly dappled shade pattern. However, they can be costly to install and challenging to maintain over the years.

Shade sails are a cool, eye-catching alternative. Made of UV-resistant polyethylene knit fabric, sails are triangular, square, and rectangular, and come in a variety of colors. They produce a muted, diffuse light, cutting the glare of full sunlight while still permitting light into windows adjacent to the deck. Shade is not all the sails offer. Many homeowners consider shade sails a form of aerial sculpture and delight in watching them rise and fall gently in the evening breeze.

Shade sails for a 16 x 20-foot deck would cost about $5,500 when professionally installed. (Expect to pay at least 30% more for a custom-built pergola of comparable size.) If you have a smaller installation in mind, you can buy a 12-foot triangular shade at your home center for as little as $200. However, bear in mind that a sail can exert a mighty force on a windy day and must be attached to the framing of the house or to steel or wooden poles set in concrete. A professional installation is recommended.

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