Painted Groove

A transformational tale of the pitiful pine table

2011-03-11T08:34:00.000-06:00

Everybody loves a love story, especially tales of transformation. Think the Ugly Duckling, Beauty and the Beast, Pretty Woman. Now while I have officially given up on men as "projects" and highly discourage it far and wide, my obsession with all other kinds of tranformation remains the key guiding force in my groovy life.

With that in mind, I want to help everybody get some vision and see past the ugly ducklings in your own lives: garage sale furniture, parental hand-me-downs, and maybe even your house you've given up on. All of these just may need some paint and inspiration!

OK, it's not so bad. But it's really not inspired either, is it?

My really cool client Susan had a feeling something could be done with this table. She really needed an outdoor dining table. Enter the transformation-obsessed person who wants to paint everything that isn't moving. Years earlier, I had painted a brand-new potting bench to look old and crusty for her powder room. She's so clever she used a bucket for the sink. I sure wish my computer guy would backup my old laptop that died so I could show you a picture of it. You'll just have to take my word for it. It's super cute.

Anyway, after putting our heads together, we came up with a hammered copper top and painted legs, with some stenciling. I saw this design somewhere and had to make the stencil but it wasn't hard. All you have to do is go to Hobby Lobby and get the clear sheet of stencil plastic. Trace your design using a Sharpie and then cut it out with an X-Acto knife.

These candlesticks were an inspiration.

And, I had just finished working in this bank.
That's hammered copper wrapped around the bottom.

So anyway, this is how the table turned out. When Susan emailed me a picture last night, if I had had on a skirt, it would have not just blown up, it would have blown off. I delivered it in the dark and never got a chance to see it on her patio, in good light. I think it's even prettier at her house than it was at mine while I was painting it.

It's my new favorite thing.

Now I am seriously on the prowl for an old pitiful table to paint for myself. You can so do this. And if you have any questions, just ask!!

Mondays are not all bad

2011-03-08T07:54:00.000-06:00

After an inspiring weekend day trip seeing beautiful things with the beautiful people in the beautiful Hill Country, and after an awful back-to-reality Monday morning, I prayed my way through my day well enough to put together this metallic plaster ceiling. Maintaining the creative groove isn't always easy when the realities of life like dirty dishes and crabby kids crash into my chi.

Thank God for my work!!! Yes, my scaffold gave me fits, but made the job much easier than moving a ladder around, at least once I adjusted it to the right height. That isn't real easy when you're working alone. There were a few times when I was tempted to say screw-it and go get my ladder.

But the end result made me really, really happy. It was exactly what this dining room needed, just as I suspected (and suggested). I love it when people are open to my big ideas and then I get to put them into action. It happens just every so often ... not near enough, but just enough to keep me going.

If only I could implement some of these big ideas at my house ....

Ahhhh romance … with a faux flair of course!

2011-02-14T11:12:00.011-06:00

Ahhhh, Valentine's Day. That day we remember our lives are supposed to be infused with peace and love, and mostly aren't. With kids and work and the everyday hectic pace of life, some of us forget to surround ourselves with romantic touches that can comfort our souls and make our hearts feel good, regardless of whether we have anyone to romance. As a decorative painter and faux finisher, much of the romance I create is, alas, for other people.

Here's a look at some beautiful interiors I've just come across on the web. These beautiful images are courtesy of House Beautiful for MSN Lifestyle. I picked my favorites, let me know what you think!

We all spend so much time in the kitchen, why not make it the most romantic room in your house? Here, artist Michael Duté uses a blue-and-white design to create a light-hearted, almost whimsical sophistication to a kitchen. A much-coveted farmhouse sink, below casement windows and marble counters make it justcountry enough, but not too much. Although it might take me a while to find my way, I think I could get used to hidden appliances like the Sub-Zero drawer refrigerator, which lets the super sexy stove and decorative walls get all the attention.

The blue on the walls reminds me of a beautiful French blue glaze I applied over StucoLux in a teeny tiny powder room. It was gorgeous (and the client's idea!) I have the smartest clients.

In this fancy French-inspired living room, what gets me excited are the faux finishes! Now I can't be certain, but I'm almost 100% that the fireplace is a faux limestone. It just doesn't look real enough to me. And though it's certainly excellent work, the grout lines seem a bit too neat and flat. Of course, it could be real, who knows? I would mess it up a little and make it more "real."

Antiqued cabinetry is another favorite of mine. See the doors to the left of the fireplace? I bet they hide entertainment components. And this could be done to any old armoire. Right up front, I love how the gold makes the lamp so much more fabulous. According to the article, designer Erin Martin had the sofa is upholstered in Provence Hay, a Dintiman Design Associates hand-painted linen. I love it, especially with the furry pillow. Relaxed romance is always best, if you ask me.

While on the subject of romance, where's a bedroom we can all dream of?

Ok,this one may be a little too fussy and orderly for me, but I'm including it for the dreamy walls! Think shimmery custom-mixed Lusterstone, or a gorgeous Venetian plaster in blue. Even a lime-washed treatment would be fabulous – and romantic.

Here again, designer Erin Martin used a hand-stitched French needlepoint headboard from a French flea market and combined it with a new canopy bed from Ironies. I especially love the wood finish on the settee. So doable.

After a night in this dreamy bedroom, it's only right to have breakfast here:

I selected this picture because I love the subtle tones in what I'm pretty sure is gorgeous pricey wallpaper. I would propose a similar color scheme, but with a stencil design. The pattern could be raised, or subtly obscured with plaster. And with a stencil and paint, there's hardly the commitment to love it for the rest of your life (after it goes out of style) based on what it cost you. Once you're ready to move on, all I would need to do is paint over it with whatever has become your new favorite faux inspiration! J

To read the entire article, and see many more images from the online article, click here:

Change is good! Or, one transformation leads to another ...

2011-01-22T12:07:00.114-06:00

Change is good, for people and our spaces. In this particular case, my client (and friend) wanted her living room to feel warm and comfortable. She wanted people to want to come into her already beautiful home, sit down and stay awhile. A previous remodel had improved upon "builder white" flat walls with a three-color glaze. Everyday sheetrocked columns had been covered in tumbled marble tile.

Ten years later, my client wanted to warm it up. She had purchased new, comfy furniture, and built-in shelves on either side of the fireplace had been replaced. There was a new mantel and a generously sized TV over the fireplace. Yet, the frosty walls and cool gray tones of the columns were killing the comfy vibe.

New oversized furniture and rustic lamp
with a linen shade are much more casual.

To begin the transformation, I suggested we bring down the 12-foot ceiling with a warm-toned metallic plaster. A new scaffold I bought myself for Christmas amazingly straddled this enormous sofa so I was able to work on the ceiling without moving the furniture out.

New ceiling is Antique Parchment Lusterstone,
a product from Faux Effects.

But as you might imagine, one project leads to another. And for me, that's not a bad thing. The ceiling turned out so warm and wonderful that my client wondered whether the walls were crying out for a warmer paint color. No problem. We needed to work with the new sofa, and the new ceiling. I didn't even flinch when I painted over my original 10-year-old glaze job with plain old vanilla paint in an eggshell finish. It's Sherwin Williams Basket Beige, to be exact. It blends beautifully with the Antique Parchment Lusterstone, and the sofa, but isn't matchy-matchy. Beautiful white crown moulding defines both perfectly.

After all this beautiful toasty transformation, the columns that had been wrapped in tumbled marble tile stuck out like ... well let's just say they needed a little help, in the form of a wash.

The columns before. Nice, but too cool.

A tinted Lime Wash solved the problem.
It dries lighter.

The columns now blend in beautifully. And yes,
the white ceiling fan is on its way out.

The change has been amazing and provides a perfect example of what I love most about what I do ... a completely transformed space and a finite sense of accomplishment. Although, from what I understand, the blue walls in the kitchen are now screaming for something warmer ...

(to be continued)

What I liked this week …

2011-01-07T22:01:00.003-06:00

I've decided to not let my perfectionism to keep me from blogging this year. So here's a peek at what I liked this week.

My Mom's new chair. A total impulse buy, on sale at World Market. The best part: I put it together with an allen wrench (sp?) and Bambi was the first dog to sit on it.

While some may say this was just an average chair from World Market, I must stress this chair brought new life to my Mom's living room, brightening up the space and detracting at least 20 years from the decor. My mother is certainly not one to embrace old age willingly and this chair is just as sassy as she is. Way to go, Mom!

My fake Suzani tablecloth. I completely ADORE it don't care if it is a fake Suzani tablecloth from Target. I live in a real house with completely real kids and husband (that I ADORE, of course). And just this morning I washed it in water in a real washing machine like normal people have and then dried it. Now it's back on my table all fresh and clean. I didn't buy it trying to pretend I have a Suzani. I like the pattern and the colors are my favorite colors and it disguises the dreary, too formal table.

I don't especially love my dining room table ... in this setting, as our only eating spot. Under other circumstances, I think it's lovely. It's a family heirloom but in this house, we have just one dining area. So yes, it's a little formal for daily use, but hey, it's what we have. The fake Suzani ups the fun factor.

All this happiness of the week is sure to be surpassed by the luxury of being able to do nothing on Saturday, at least for a couple of hours while I drink coffee and snuggle with my girls. After that, my perfectionism will kick in and I'll be forced to go transform or improve something, like the laundry situation or a table I need to finish. I'll probably start by making a list. But then I'll take a nap. It's going to be a glorious weekend with few plans.

In praise of new beginnings (and get the party started already!)

2011-01-05T22:30:00.004-06:00

Is it just me or is everyone just a little bit excited about the start of this new year?

I can't remember a time when I have felt this eager to get going, reach new heights, make lists, clean and throw away, start new projects. In fact, for the first time ever, the day after Christmas I was ready for all the Christmas decorations to GO! And as I took them all down and disassembled the tree, I reduced the bins and boxes by one HUGE bin! Yay. Did that ever feel good. So now it's on to real jobs, the paying kind ...

I was discussing new directions with one of bestest friends today and she said maybe our newfound optimism comes from just being glad 2010 is OVER. That is how I felt about 2009, the year we were forced to come to terms with the fact that the gravy train was slowing down. My friend likened 2010 to a bad hangover.

Come to think of it, last year did feel a little bit like dehydration (monetary) and a pounding headache (fretful indecisive immobility) at times. Like hangovers, those bad feelings came to an end. We just put our noses to the grindstone and worked (drank) our way out of it. No whining allowed. Who promised the gravy train would chug on forever? We just have to be better and smarter now. I know I learned a lot last year and I'm ready to put that newfound knowledge to work!

Today, I found some pictures today of a little job I did in New Braunfels a while back and thought I'd share them. This is the kind of thing that blows my skirt up and makes me really, really happy:

Crystal and plaster and antique mirrors! Can I get an amen? Let me just say, this massive mirror is to die for. That's what makes this teeny tiny bathroom so fabulous: The mirror is enormously out of scale and some snooty designer type might snort that it's too large for the space. Someone else might say the chandelier is going to clonk someone tall right smack in the forehead. I sayWHO CARES??? I say the chandelier is rich and drippy crystal fabulous and the enormo mirror enlarges the space and distributes good energy all over the room!

If you can have this chandelier and this mirror and me to create warm and yummy champagne-colored plaster walls, why the heck not? Life is too short to live with mediocrity and it's really waaaaaay too short to worry about all the rules of convention!

Here's a close-up of the wall, the corner of the mirror, and the bead board below. I painted the bead board and trim a gorgeous warm cream from Benjamin Moore. It had been a cold, stark white with no soul.

What's worse: Above the bead board, where you now see the beautiful champagne plaster, was blue and white striped wallpaper. It was lovely and cheerful in the 90s, but we've all grown up since then, haven't we?

Love it!

Oh how I heart Fall!!!

2010-09-28T09:41:00.001-05:00

There are no words to explain how giddy I become when we get that first "cool spell." That's what my Mom and grandfather always called what they also called the first "cold snap." For my entire life, I have been in love with September, for so many reasons. In fact, if I was the type to do such a thing, which I certainly am not, I should have named one of my daughters September.

I guess it all started when I was born in September. Every year, regardless of where we lived, a special package would come in the mail from my grandmother in Seguin. It was always something fabulous, and usually, a really cute outfit to wear in the fall. One year when I was about seven, the birthday package contained some dark purple bell bottoms -- in velvet. There was a lighter purple blouse, and a purple vest that went over the shirt. I'm telling you, I rocked that outfit as often as I could, until I wore the velvet off the knees. As you might imagine, I love fall and winter clothes much more than summer clothes. Plus, I'm modest, and prefer to leave something to the imagination, as in "clothed." I also was born to wear fall colors because of my brown hair and hazel eyes.

And then there was the start of school, which always meant school clothes! When I was growing up in Alpine, August and September were heavenly (still are!). Warm days fueled thunder storms and cooling rains. By September 25, my birthday, the temperatures would always cool down so I could wear whatever school clothes we bought at the mall in Odessa -- or at Joske's in San Antonio. This year, Mother Nature was a couple days late, but she remembered my birthday and sent some cooler temperatures all the way to Seguin.

So what does this have to do with my painted groove, interiors and design? Well, I've noticed it's not just me. Cooler temperatures signal something in us, beckoning us indoors, turning our attention to nesting and fixing up the interiors of our homes. Whether cooler weather gets us to thinking about the holidays, a fire in the fireplace, cozying up the place, I don't know, but it dependably happens.

At this very moment, I am scheming to revamp my girls' bathroom, searching for curtains for practically every room in the house, and still praying for that cream shag rug I have requested for my birthday and Christmas for at least two years. (hint, hint)

I loved this room designed by Wisteria. I generally am a color girls, so the red and black appealed to me. But the cream and gray grounds it and lends a restful quality. I have a dresser I could probably "faux" to look like that little gem being used bedside.

And I love these windows and this rolling shelf in this kitchen -- from Restoration Hardware. Why do I suddenly hate cabinets? A lack of cabinetry, definitely uppers, appears to be all the rage. Sure, upper cabinets close me in and offend my delicate sensibilities, but a kitchen like that is only practical if you have a huge butler's pantry, (which I don't). And in this particular photo and most kitchen photo shoots, you can see the faux family has no plastic Tinker Bell sandwich holders or Lisa Frank lunch boxes drying on the island.

My need for change extends to almost every room of the house. For example, I want to throw out all my furniture and get two of these chairs, in this exact color. Oh my God this would be fabulous in my house, with the cream-colored shag rug. The only problem is, I'd have to throw out my sofa and all my other furniture because they would not seamlessly mesh. Oh well.

This room below, from Restoration Hardware, is a little fancy for me and my life, but I loooove the linen-covered sofas and the warm tones coming from the fire. And four tall floor lamps at the corners of the living space? Brilliant. I love it.

Of course in my house, those lamps would fall to the tune of "timberrrrrrrr" probably in the first week. Unfortunately, or fortunately, whaterver ... we're pretty casual around here. And, there would be Littlest Pet Shop animals strategically placed all around the bases of the side tables. Now you can understand why I am somewhat insane.

So am I alone here? Is anyone else looking inward, with an eye toward spoofing up the nest?

How to find heaven while still on earth ...

2010-09-16T09:13:00.011-05:00

Have you ever thought about what heaven will look like? We decided last week it looks like this niche. This is the kind of thing that makes me happy. It blows my skirt up and floods me with thankfulness because I am so blessed to be able to work and make money doing something that beautifies the world.

While beautification and transformation are the underlying principles in practically everything I think about, it's not that way for everyone. Sometimes we get clients who just want faux finishes because the people down the street have them, or because they saw them at the Parade of Homes. We do the amazing job and they're happy, but not in a profound way. It's more like: "Okay, I can check that off my list."

But other times, we suggest color changes and make improvements that change the way our clients actually "feel" when they are in their homes. In this house with the heavenly niche, our client was absolutely ecstatic about the glorious changes we were making in her home. She thanked us profusely, and meant it. She was the most joyful person: funny, genuine, thankful. She was a blessing to us!

Back to the heavenly niche: You must know it was a collaborative effort. My very talented angel painter friend Mary Hulin started it by skimming out the monterrey drag texture (blek!). Monterrey is just hell on fine faux finishes, but Mary made this niche as smooth as a baby's bottom. Then, a day or so later, with my neck in a permanent right-cranked cramp from the dining room ceiling, I begged to do the plaster. A straight-ahead niche was a welcome break.

It has become our new favorite finish.

Across the way, this is the dining room ceiling that right-cranked my neck and later wiped Mary out. Here's the before:

Poor little boring thing is just begging for something to be done so it can stand out and shine! You know this upgrade feature wasn't cheap and so far wasn't living up to its potential!

And after! So pretty and elegant. And worth all the paint, plaster and aggravation.

If there's a moral to the story here (and isn't there always a moral to my stories?) it has to be this: Please go find your special purpose. Whatever blows your skirt up. It may take you the rest of your life, and it isn't going to be easy, filled with nothing but peace and love and puppies. But I promise that if you look and listen you will find it.

Next up: a dreary little bathroom that has become an embarrassment.

A jig, a job, an online garage sale ...

2010-09-02T13:15:00.026-05:00

Let's just say my painted groove has taken a jig and a jog, and a long break from blogging. An obsession with simplicity has emerged. My taste in faux finishes has changed. I want less stuff, no clutter, manageable spaces, and using our monetary resources in other ways than we have been. It's a new day and it's exciting.

In the interest of time, here's the short version: I indulged my long-time passion for painted furniture last year and began selling vintage and antique pieces at Back Alley Antiques in San Antonio. Then I met a new faux finisher friend and started collaborating on jobs with her. This made me too busy to paint furniture on a speculative basis. So earlier this week I brought all my leftover treasures home.

Now the old me would have kept them all and incorporated them into my home. New me wants to sell everything at a huge discount. That's why I'm telling y'all. If you like it, it's yours. If you need measurements, just let me know. If you like the piece but it's the wrong color or you have a better idea, you have come to the right place. I can fix it for you.

After this, it's going up for sale on craigslist, up for grabs to those "other people."

An estate auction find. Alphabet Jumble Table in metallic silver, antiqued finish $98

I am still a huge fan of Back Alley Antiques. In fact, I think it's critical to respect and incorporate older furniture and accessories in our lives because they add character and a rich energy into our homes. Nothing makes me crazier than new houses full of nothing but new furniture. But then that's another subject for another post.

"Half a Table" console with faux dark chocolate leather top $125

When my new friend Mary asked me to consider painting with her, I was a little leary. Most of the time, at least in my world, art is not a collaborative process. And, other people can get on your nerves. That's why I do what I do. I like to think, create, pray and transform -- on the job. For me the work is regenerative. I didn't want to mess that up. But as it turned out, Mary has been the best blessing. She works so hard, and is very talented. And, we laugh a lot. I have seen the error of my ways.

I really don't want anybody to buy this. $150

Petite pink, gold & chocolate antiqued side table with leopard spots $89

As a freaky perfectionist who wants to do everything, and do it perfectly, my painted furniture and antiques endeavor was nagging at me, and making me feel like a loser because I wasn't giving it my best. If there's one thing I have learned it's this: If something is bugging you, get to the bottom of it and change it! Prune it and free yourself to grow in new areas. And read Secrets of the Vine by Bruce Wilkinson.

Cool mirror from an estate auction $50

3-tier spooly table. This is just way too cute. $80

Martha Washington sewing cabinet, $40. The legs are a little "off" but it stands straight.

Princess Pilar's Naughty Chair, $50

Of course this isn't everything. I'll charge my battery and take some more pics. Leave a comment if you're interested!

The stars aligned but we forgot coats & cameras ...

2010-02-14T21:27:00.025-06:00

Sometimes the transformer -- that would be me -- needs some transformative rejuvenation. Sometimes she needs alone time. But other times she needs to renew the creative energy with laugh-your-ass-off girlfriend time amidst mountains and beer joints.

So a few weeks ago, the stars aligned and I was actually able to sneak away on a quickie trip to West Texas with two of my old, old, old best friends, Deb and Lisa. They're not really all that old. We've just been best friends since the olden days. One of us actually just turned 45, but I'm not saying who.

Why is this blog worthy? Because I am just floored and amazed and blessed to have such creative and amazing friends. Does your average girl has such talented friends? It has nothing to do with me. I'm just fortunate. Anyway, more about that later. This is a tale about weather and mountains and old friends. You know, the usual.

Leaving Fort Stockton, we could see the windstorm/cold front in the distance and realized we forgot heavy coats. But it looked a pretty long way off. There is nothing wrong with this sentence. It's perfectly normal to say "a pretty long way off."

Here's Deb, the creator of a lavender body care line, getting gas in Fort Stockton, looking just a little bit too much like Cousin It. We were experiencing the cold front hitting first-hand. Then we realized we forgot our fancy cameras so my handy iphone filled in.

You know how the stars aligned and these three incredibly busy women were able to get away for a whole weekend? Well that's just part of it. Our other old, old, old, friend Dara actually met us at the White Buffalo Bar at the Gage on our first night there. Lisa had not seen Dara in probably 25 years. It really was just like old times, except the wine was much better!

Remember that I'm kind of obsessed with mountains? Well, this little pointy mountain is called Mitre Peak. There's a tragic Girl Scout camp at the base of it (tragic only because I'm not the Girl Scout type and I went there one year and they made you wash your own dishes. I thought I was on vacation. I mean seriously. And, they wanted me to sing. Please). One day, it would make me so happy if I could see lava oozing out the top of Mitre Peak. Doesn't it just look like that's bound to happen? Someday?

So what do three creative chicks in need of artistic renewal do on a free Saturday with no agenda? Ride around. And take pictures. We spent our entire youth doing it and it's really effective for solving the problems of the world and soaking up the energy of the beautiful West Texas landscape. When we called Dara to see if she wanted to go with us, she said she was perfectly happy in her warm house, out of the nasty cold wind. We understood. She gets to see these mountains every day.

When you're fortunate enough to be a lucky girl from West Texas, this is what you get used to seeing out your front windshield. This view struck me so powerfully. It was like a whack to my head that said: "Do you see this? Do you realize how blessed you are?" I got it. I get it.

But you know, in between beautiful mountains, there's a town here and there. And as you might imagine, if you're on a drive around the countryside, you might happen upon a bar. This one is in Marfa. It's called Padre's and it's located in the old funeral home. I don't know the address but it's on the south side of the railroad tracks, right near downtown. You can find it, real easy.

Here are my creative friends, who are also kinda gorgeous, bellied up to the bar. Really, their bellies weren't even close to the bar because they don't even have bellies. What's significant here is I love the chandeliers: the juxtaposition of the dark, edgy bar-ness, with the luxury of the chandeliers bringing light to the darkness. After gazing upon the cactus painting, I decided I'd better get busy painting because I could so paint that. Lisa cautioned she thought it was painted by somebody famous, as a way of telling me maybe I shouldn't say that out loud. Whatever.

Here's the entry area leading to the restrooms ... old velvet paintings paired with crystal.

I will be impressed with your bathroom if you've got a beautiful chandelier for lighting, and even more if you pair it with old-school floor tile. Love it!

While in Marfa, we decided we'd better go stop in at Mando's and determine whether their food is as good as it was back in the day. We were not even close to being hungry, but it was good enough to entice my gluten-free self to eat a flour tortilla. Pretty decent, and the green sauce was as good as it used to be.

Lisa (who's kind of an amazing photographer of famous people), spied this interesting vignette out the window of Mando's. She told me to take a picture with my iphone because she left her camera in the car and didn't want to go to the trouble of getting it out. Ok ....

Then, on the way back to Alpine, I made Lisa pull over so I could take a picture of this sign at Paisano Baptist Encampment. Such a beautiful scripture, but I like the NIV version better.

I lift my eyes up to the hills -- where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth. -- Psalm 121:1-2

I needed rejuvenation, and God's "help" came in the form of some time with my girlfriends, in my own personal heaven. Pay attention: Your help might come from a really sweet snuggle with a wiggly five-year-old. Or, a suggestion from a friend, that's really hard to hear. Help is out there: in the mountains, in the sky, in your friends, in the little things that become big things. We found it in all the energy of the universe, in hellish weather that included wind, hail, rain, and God's promise of a rainbow over Iron Mountain.

It doesn't have to be elaborate, or expensive. Sometimes you need to get away and see things from a different perspective, and that's when you might just get the "help" you need to grow and develop and renew yourself.

I'd like some wine and cheese with my whine, please!

2010-01-28T15:02:00.017-06:00

I have stress-induced ADD and here's why. I am stressed. Why am I stressed, you ask. Life is good. I have faith, blah, blah, blah. Well, the main reason I am stressed is because my house is dirty. You think I'm exagerrating. Truthfully, it isn't just messy. It's a filthy pigsty. Unorganized. Cluttered. Bordering on disgusting.

Oh, I'm sure many of you would think it's fine. None of my friends, mind you, but some of the other people who read this blog. Ha! I want to assure you that I am not dabbling with hyperbole again. It is seriously bad and my chi has left the building. Here's a look at my daughter's closet, the other day before I made her clean it. That was the other day. It's right back to this:

I once read it's not good to shame your children, but I think she should be ashamed. Notice I'm only showing your her mess. I'm not about to give you a peek at my own personal nightmare.

So anyway, the reason my house is a pigsty is because I've been busy beautifying the houses of everybody else. Yay! Business in a recession! It's all good. But it's making me crazy. Right now I have a work-at-home day, but I can't concentrate BECAUSE THERE IS TOO MUCH CLUTTER EVERYWHERE AROUND ME. There is no peace & love in this house. So I'll blog. And show you the homes of other, organized, happy people:

I did some touch-ups at this beautiful house in the country. I wanted to go to their house for Christmas dinner, but alas, I was not invited.

I ventured to the Valley to beautify the entry ceiling of this bank. If you ever need a bank, I would suggest Texas Community Banks because they obviously have good taste and an appreciation for beautification.

Right after the bank I got a another job out of town, to antique the cabinets in an enormous kitchen makeover, whole-house remodel. Even though it was two hours away, it's a beautiful drive:

One foggy morning it looked like this.

The silence on a long drive is a good thing.

Before I started the job, the cabinets looked like this:

And then after I did my magic, they looked like this:

But wait! Here's what they look like once they got all dressed up with their "jewelry" on:

Who wouldn't love to have this refrigerator?

Or this super-sweet stove?

Love these pulls.

Wouldn't it be great if my house had its own personal dumping ground like this mud room? I bet if I had these cubbies, my house would not be as messy because I have three kids that would use them. I'm sure of it.

It was a huge job. And it's not finished. Now a sample for crown mold in the kitchen is pending approval. And we wrapped up a black stain on the upstairs cabinetry Monday. I haven't even managed photos of that room yet. And all this reminds me that I need to call the clients and tell them about the sample. So for now, I'm going to go whirl away on another tangent, which sadly does not include cleaning my house!

Patience, honey ... just give it some time and it'll work itself out!

2009-11-09T15:09:00.018-06:00

If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you know two things about me. I am obsessed with transformation. And, while obviously obsessive in nature, I have been obsessing over my next career move for at least two years. Today I'm happy to report there has been a convergence of obsessions and I finally made a move!

You see, I thought I needed something to keep me off the streets between big faux jobs. After agonizing for years ... where should I sell painted furniture and should I revisit my past life of collecting and finding new homes for antique and vintage furniture and decor ... I'm happy to report that the pieces of the puzzle eventually came together this month. Now, without even knowing me, you can all run out and buy furniture with that special Painted Groove pizazz. And as a special bonus, my alter ego, Vintage Pilar, has returned with funky vintage finds. Now, all of my stuff can be found under one roof, at Back Alley Antiques at Artisan's Alley in San Antonio!

Here's how it all came together: I met Frannie Roberts, the precious and very cool manager of Back Alley Antiques, in a decorative painting class, of all places. She told me about her store and I asked whether she was interested in painted pieces. After meeting Frannie, choosing Back Alley was easy, because of Frannie's knack for merchandising and their longevity in the antiques market. Although Back Alley sells the wares of several different vendors, it is all merchandised together beautifully like a real store and very much unlike your average antique mall.

The store is clean, and pretty, and organized. Most antique stores are just dreadful and give even me a headache after a while, because it is exhausting to look at booth after booth of crowded crap. Even when they're done well, I think they miss out on a lot of sales from people who can't imagine how the antiques can fit into their homes.

So, let me show you around the place!

Here's a little child-sized chair I picked up at an auction. It was brown, stained wood, but I knew right away it really wanted to be gold. Now it is happy as Princess Pilar's Naughty Chair.

This is not one of my pieces, but I wish it was. I love it! Look real close and you'll see a super-cute set of Christmas glasses.

I think these are sooooo cute. In my family, they're the perfect size for a Christmas morning mimosa! Ha!

This vignette just makes me happy and shows Frannie's skill at grouping items from many different sellers. Just in this photo, that's my cute little lamp and my antique mirror I spoofed up with some leopard spots. And that iron bed with the vintage linens? They're not mine, but I love it all.

Here's a beautiful old mirror that I had no impulse to improve. It's great just the way it is.

A closeup of my spotty mirror.

I initially loved this little table for its height. It's a little taller than most side tables, which makes it perfect for today's larger scale pieces. Many older side tables are dwarfed beside beds or chairs but this one was perfect. Right underneath, written on a little white piece of tape, is the name "Frances Doyle." I sure wish I knew who Frances Doyle is, or was. My grandmother used to write people's names on tape and put it on knick knacks or pieces of furniture as a way of designating who would get what when she passed on, or who it came from if it was a gift. It still makes me happy to pick up a piece of something she "put my name on" and see her handwriting. So I named this piece "Frances Doyle."

This piece didn't need a thing. I just love, love, loved it. I really wish I had it back, but times are hard and somebody needs it worse than I do. Or at least someone has more money than I do!

Here's Princess Pilar's Naughty Chair after Frannie found a home for it. I think it needs to be on top of something actually, but I'll bring that up later, when I'm not such a newbie.

Goodbye beautiful crystal chandelier I bought on ebay. You were beautiful and I loved you, but you looked like a dwarf in even my tiny dining area. I hope you find a happy new home in a much smaller room.

Hey! There's that half-of-a-table I thought made the perfect console table for an entry or, as Frannie thought, a table between two slipper chairs. Fantastic. The Venetian Gem leather top is yummy.

I have my eye on this chicken lamp. I know there is a better name for this other than "chicken lamp," but I'm from West Texas and I don't know what it is. It is so fabulous. But I'm trying to make some money here, not spend it.

Two small shades adorned with rick-rack and pompon fringe for a small lamp or sconce. They're super-cute on their own.

But check them out beside that blue lamp? I'm telling you, Frannie has an eye for this stuff.

These ladderback chairs with the faux ostrich rungs finally found a home with this charming table. They look so happy here with this table because the scale is right.

To get there, plug in 555 West Bitters Road, San Antonio, into your GPS. For those more familiar with San Antonio, it's on Bitters between West Avenue and Blanco Road.

What I've been doing while I've been present, feeling the presence.

2009-10-03T21:48:00.017-05:00

Sometimes, apparently, I find myself in a blogging dry spell, during which time I have nothing to say. It is during these dry spells that I am thinking. Some people, who like to use big words, call it being "in a time of discernment."

While I do like big words, and funny words, and all kinds of words, really, I also might describe my times of discernment as periods of "correction." It's kind of like the stock market correcting itself. With me, I'm discerning whether I need to get off whatever wayward path I have ventured down, and why. When it comes to the Painted Groove career path, the discernment is required to determine the worthiness of whatever I have discerned to be my next step.

Or, as one who get kicks out of mangling the English language, sometimes I just need to "confirn" I'm on the right track. Now that I am emerging from my dry spell, I would like to confirn that I have nothing brilliant or life-altering to say. My developing humility may be bad for blogging.

During my latest time-out from blogging, I have been wrestling with how to organize my life -- again. My painted groove has been in transition. I thought, by this point, that I would be in a serious, smokin' groove, with a whole lot of creative time on my hands. During all this newfound creative time, I'd work like a demon. I'm all about the working. But then, my plans never quite work out the way I imagine they should. Should, should, should.

When my newfound creative time didn't become reality, I spiraled off on a tangent. Does anybody else do that? I'm a big tangent goer, from way back. So I've been whirling about, trying to figure out what went wrong with my plan. Then someone smart smacked me upside the head and told me that if I were to "be present" and practice the discipline of "living in the now." Then, somebody else smart said I needed to "be present" and "feel His presence." I didn't even know what that meant. How does that work with multi-tasking?

So I thought about that for a while, and here's the deal: The new plan is to "be present" for whatever it is that I am doing, for that time. And then when it's time for the next thing, or job, or requirement, or commitment, or insane request, I'm working on moving on to thinking about that.

Sounds simple, doesn't it? Only I just learned this radical concept the other day. How can you spend a lifetime not knowing something so simple? What that one very smart person told me is that "being present" or staying "in the now" is a "spiritual discipline." Did he mean that to be a challenge?

Ever since this very smart person told me about this "spiritual discipline," probably knowing all too well that I'm just the type to rise to the challenge if you tell me it's spiritual and a discipline, I've been thinking differently. If it is time to take care of my kids, I do that, and keep it within those bounds -- until it's time to think about art and painting.

LIFE SHATTERING!!! It's so effective. Break it up. Don't make everyone suffer through you reading bedtime stories while thinking about your next money-making venture. Your heart isn't in it. And EVERYONE WILL NOTICE! I'm not talking to you unless I need to be talking to you ... I'm talking to me.

Ever notice how your husband isn't listening to you while he's watching TV or working on the computer or driving or whatever? Can you imagine how that must feel to a little kid? Ugh. I cannot even imagine. I wonder how it feels to a husband when no one is "present" for him?

So never fear. I'm still working up creative proposals, and placing paint orders, and figuring out how to cover the walls of an entire entryway with the 23rd Psalm. I designed some flower arrangements, painted some furniture, transformed a little tiny powder room, in between and after making a whole bunch of peanut butter sandwiches, some pretty awesome carne guisada,
in between braiding some spectacular braided pigtails and getting everyone to soccer, softball and the informational meeting for the Washington, D.C. trip. Oh, and the emergency room. And, best of all, I can confirn that I am not yet insane.

I painted a painting that I loved enough to let people see. I don't even know who bought it. The title of it was "Control is Overrated."

Mary snapped this pic on the way to school one day. Poor thing. Now I have my daughter noticing clouds and marveling at the wonder of it all.

I got some really kickass shoes. And shaved my legs.

I enjoyed this sunset on my birthday. The air was dry and I was happy to breathe it.

There was a spectacular cloudview in Marathon on Sept. 28th.

I got to visit some mountains and combat evil all in the same night.

This flower arrangement really dresses up this nurses' station at Nesbit LRC. I still want to be a florist when I grow up. But before that, maybe I can get a job at Green Gate in the spring.
It's a garden center.

I saw this pillow while shopping at TJ Maxx/Homegoods. I have officially seen it all. You really want one, don't you?

So this is what I've learned and what I've been doing and what I've seen. In all my craziness. I am blessed.

Poor sheep, poor Piper, poor me ...

2009-09-08T21:26:00.005-05:00

A look is worth a thousand words. What do I even need to say about this picture? Except that my niece is adorable. And her mother, the photographer, is a genius, or at least really really lucky to have captured this shot.

To answer the obvious: My niece is standing beside an oddly sheared sheep because (insert drum roll, please) ..... The mutton-bustin' is coming up at the Guadalupe County Fair & Rodeo, of course! And Piper and all her cousins are entered. Come on, really, it would be embarassing if they they took off out of the gate in their helmets and flak jackets, looking like little PBR bull riders, and fell off in two seconds. They need to make a decent showing. There's money or scholarships or maybe a savings bond at stake. Not to mention family pride. You can tell how well I have paid attention to the details, eh? Could this be any more redneck?

To get ready, Paw-Paw had to buy a sheep so they all could practice. I know, this really isn't what I had in mind for my precious, girly daughters. So I let loose a trial balloon to guage interest and they were totally excited. It stressed me out in more ways than one. I'll just leave it at that.

Laboring with love and lavender ...

2009-09-05T11:43:00.009-05:00

I know I'm crazy, but I love long weekends like this, especially when we have family in and I spend the entire day cooking and cleaning up. It's so fun, and I'm not being facetious. Right now, The guys went to get a haircut, and somehow, my sister-in-law ended up taking three kids under five to Wal-Mart with her. She had volunteered to take her own, my nephew Pius, but then Catherine asked every so sweetly if she could go. When Caroline found out Pius was going, she could not be left alone...

And so I had to conjole a teenager to go with her just to help. Thank God Mar threw herself on the sword. And so here I am blogging, in silence. Carne guisada simmering on the stove. Beans in the crockpot. Mom on her way to help me hold it all together.

Yesterday, in preparation for the guests, we decided Bambi needed a spa treatment (aka bath). Don't say anything, but she was starting to stink.

Around here, we don't mess around. When someone needs a bath, we only use Hummingbird Farms Aromatherapy Lavender Body Wash No. 152, from Hummingbird Farms, of course, which you can find here. Maybe you've heard of it. :)

Really, we all love giving Bambi a bath, because then she smells so clean and fresh. But to be honest, she really isn't into it until she's all clean and fresh and wrapped up in a towel. See, here she's still looking pretty miserable. But Caroline and Caroline are thrilled with the progress. Also of note: See how their faces are so perfectly lit up, as in a studio, like I planned it. No, that's just the miracle of the sun coming through the window at exactly the right time.

Here, Caroline models the only bath care line our family will endorse.

Awaiting her air fluff, Bambi still resembles a drowned rat. But she's looking more perky.

And finally, she spent the rest of the day, lolling about ... all peaced out and smelling of lavender.

It's not easy being me

2009-09-02T12:46:00.002-05:00

Oh ... I was going to do something really fabulous today, but instead I am killing time blogging because I read too fast for the stupid online defensive driving class. This proves, once again, that if something is designed for the masses, it will cater to the lowest common denominator.

Paige said the average person reads somewhere around a fifth grade level. I think I would agree, I suppose. I could have taken this class in half the time.

I don't do anything slow, I don't think. I walk fast. I talk fast. You should see me typing right now. It's fast. OK maybe I don't run fast. But I would if I actually wanted to run. But here's the deal: there is a story behind why I read so fast, despite my public school education designed for the masses.

It all can be traced back to good old Alpine Junior High School, where all my smart friends and I managed to learn something in spite of roaches and bats in the hallways and coaches for teachers. (ha! sorry if any of you read my blog!) Anyway, back in eighth grade reading, the students were divided into groups that rotated from station to station. One of the stations was a film projector contraption that flashed sentences onto the wall. The goal was to gradually increase your reading speed. Except that my group, a bunch of smart-alecs to be sure, would turn the machine up as fast as it would go. We were just challenging ourselves, and somehow we got away with this really bad behavior. We did end up being tested on our comprehension, so you couldn't go so fast that you couldn't read it. We did all want to make As, you know, even though we were above-average juvenile delinquents.

The moral of the story? Or, where am I going with this? This is at least one very good example of how goofing off in school pays off. I am a super-quick reader now all because of the silliness of me, my best friend Kim Elliott, Jeff Stump, Mark Poteet and I think maybe Jimmy Kim.

All of which brings me back to my online defensive driving course that is keeping me from my super-exciting StucoLux installation. I do still have a decorative painting business. But today, it was forced to take a backseat to me trying to avoid a warrant for my arrest due to the ticket I got for allegedly speeding in Del Rio. And if I can't drive without getting thrown in jail, I can't very well run a business that requires me to drive.

Tomorrow ... back to my StucoLux brilliance. Wish me luck.

Recommendation for your next adventure ... if you're brave enough!

2009-08-30T08:26:00.026-05:00

Imagine this blog post as part review, part scary, scary ghost story. I'll let you decide which. Come with me to Laredo, where there is a creepy old complex of buildings and patios that have fallen into disrepair. Even they admit it is an "overwhelming maze."

At one time, it was a bustling store, chock-full of treasures from Old Mexico: Mexican rustic furnishings, old doors, religious folk art, primitive antiques, trunks galore. Now, bustling is not a word you would use to describe it, but it is a scavenger's paradise.

First, you have to call ahead and someone will open it up for you. Kind of makes you feel special: who doesn't like to be "VIP"? But what are you walking into? A trap? So far, I've made it out alive. Once you're inside, you have to venture past the first room to find the good stuff ... if you're brave enough. You must wander from room to room, inside and out. But watch out! A lizard may scare you half to death. A random worker might pop out from behind a door. Where did he come from? Prepare to sweat.

I made it a point to watch for snakes. I mean who knows: It's Laredo. And hotter than hell, and dusty. Weeds were growing among the iron pieces. There was an old truck from the thirties or forties, like my Papa used to drive on the farm. The merchandise is stacked on top of each other, and hung from the ceiling, much like Rafael's in Nuevo Laredo used to be, back in the good old days. And, apparently, as in Mexico, the prices vary according to the mood of the proprietor and her assessment of the buyer. All that being said, aren't you intrigued? Would I even tell you about it if I didn't think it would make for an interesting adventure, where you just might find the absolute most perfect treasure you've been seeking for years?

For example, you never know when you might need a stuffed buffalo head.

I first discovered Oscar's Antiques about six or seven years ago. My brother had come upon it one day and called me from his cell phone to tell me I'd better get down to Laredo and check it out. So when my friend Kelly and I owned McQueeney Market, we went down there, and actually bought some things that we sold in our store, and other stuff that we bought for ourselves.

Flash forward six or seven years and a few kids later, my friend Wendy and I figured out how to get there on one of our trips down to Laredo looking for pieces for her nursing home remodel. It's still there, only now, given the ailing condition of Laredo because people are too scaredy-cat to venture that close to the border (big chickens!), you have to call a number (956.723.0765 or 956.723.7785) and the owner will come open the store for you. To get there, put 1002 Guadalupe St., Laredo, TX, 78040 in your GPS. I couldn't tell you how to get there because I've never gotten there the same way twice.

I thought these would make fantastic porch lights.

This piece of folk art was one of my favorites. Check it out: there's a guy on his deathbed, a couple of priests giving last rites, a crying wife, angels and devils. Pretty creepy. I really need that painting ... as a reminder, perhaps?

I loved the patina on these old doors. Wendy bought one of those oxen yoke things and it's hanging on the wall in Nesbit Living and Recovery Center, as art.

They have all kinds of angels and santos.

Tucked back in the corner ... do you see those wooden Our Lady of Guadalupe carvings? Look past the cliche Mexican rugs, next to those charming monks.

At Oscar's, you get the feeling that the primitive antiques might actually be antiques. At all the other Mexican rustic places, you know they're just made out of pine and then distressed. I always wonder where the stuff came from, whose house it was in, or whose house was torn down for the old doors and shutters ...

This set of old doors still includes the hardware and the door jamb. It's just sitting out there in the hot Laredo sun, being baked to death.

Loved these old rusty lights.

More doors. I like the ones with interesting color combinations like these with greeny blue and mustard yellow.

Outdoor statuary and pots.

This old cabinet would be great for extra storage.

I spied this table hanging from the ceiling. What a great island it would make in a kitchen.

See, I told you there were trunks galore. But what do you think is inside the trunks? Curious?

Seriously, the woman who runs Oscar's is very nice, and very accommodating. And I can almost promise that you'll be fine if you go there. I know you'll have a great time and you can't go without finding something you just must have.

In praise of progress ...

2009-08-24T18:00:00.009-05:00

I can see the top of all of my desk. And for this I am very grateful. Now I can continue onward toward more interesting & profitable ventures, such as painting and completing creative proposals for eager clients.

But one recent development that I'm very excited about is a new retail outlet for pieces of my painted furniture. Finally! In the very near future, you'll be able to find my painted furniture, specifically vintage and antique pieces, at Back Alley Antiques, in Artisan's Alley in San Antonio. Stuff like this, some of which you've seen before:

A favorite piece, sold in an auction and now living out its sweet little life at my friend Marty's house. Lucky table.

This little chest couldn't make the trip to Back Alley. For one thing, it's not an antique, or even vintage.

It used to look like this:

But Wendy at Nesbit Living & Recovery Center had faith I could do something better with it. See, now it is very happy living between these two chairs, holding business cards and brochures. I get to go by and say hi whenever I go up there.

As far as antique stores go, Back Alley is great because the entire store is merchandised like a real store, rather than an overwhelming antique market maze with rows of vendor booths. Those tend to make me confused and annoyed. And God knows I don't need any more reasons to be confused and annoyed.

I painted a set of four ladderbacks with alternating black & camel-colored ostrich. Really fun.

This is a re-purposed find ... half of a table to be exact. I think it will make a great quirky side table or entry table piece. I still have this one and think I may add a little more glitz before it hits the market.

This is a great antique china cabinet I painted a while back for a client. I may not get this crazy at Back Alley, but you never know. This job called for some outlandish thinking outside the box.

I want to paint using some lighter colors, more beiges, maybe some blue or gray, ala Wisteria ... so I'm eager to get into my studio and see what I can whip up. And use the StucoLux product from Faux Effects. I know that's going on a table top asap. StucoLux is the next thing I'm going to become obsessed with ... but you'll have to wait for that because I can't find a photo ...

I'm still looking for another location somewhere around the state ... maybe Houston's Urban Market, so if anyone has a suggestion ... I want to hear from you!

5 Things I Love Today

2009-08-23T11:27:00.004-05:00

Ok I know today is Sunday, but this is a list of what really blows my skirt up:

1. Being organized, getting organized. Neatness. That's why I have been such a crazed maniac for the past week. There has been no neatness. I live with four other people who apparently are not interested in the same things as me. And my favorite person on earth just went her own way to find another job. sniff, sniff. Pass me a tissue.

2. Getting stuff done ... GSD. Nothing makes me happier than a lightbulb being put in the light in the pantry.

3. When my honey-do list becomes a priority. This is just plain sexy.

4. The disappearance of clutter. Over accessorization has begun to make me nuts. It is just so unnecessary if it doesn't mean anything to you. If it's something important from an interesting trip or makes your soul happy when you walk by it, great! If not, if it's just filling the space above your cabinets, it's going to make me insane.

5. The thought that tomorrow, Monday, August 24th, will find ALL my children locked safely away in school for the rest of the year. And while they're gone, I can continue to GSD ...

2009-08-19T13:57:00.007-05:00

I don't have time to blog. I love it, but let's face it, I can't tell you something fascinating every day, unless you all pitch in and provide me with a salary and benefits. Since that's highly unlikely at this point, I've changed my racing mind.

Since I cannot WOW and inspire you every day, and make a living too, and since I tend to ramble anyway, I'm going to just go with it. My new plan: show you what I'm working on, tell you about the my intriguing world where art meets construction, and mix it all together with my Obsession of the Day. The best part: It won't take me so long!!!

At this point I bet you're wondering about that fabulous graphic at the top of this blog post. Well .... I was cruising around on http://www.royaldesignstudio.com/, looking for some cool stencil letters for a client. And there it was. This totally awesome new stencil I had never seen. It's an allover stencil, which means you put it "allover" the wall. It's called Indian Floral, and I'm in love with it.

You'll be seeing this again. I can just see it with the little flower troweled on with some sort of texture like Venetian plaster .... ok. Back to work looking for stencil letters.

A death grip on my basket

2009-08-12T22:00:00.009-05:00

I said when MY kids started kindergarten I wouldn't freak out. Weepy mothers are so cliche'. I dropped my basket when they turned one, but only because I realized I had been a zombie for an entire year. It was all about me, not related to the fact that they were getting older and growing up too fast. Since then, they keep getting older, and I've only had a few scattered times when I was creeping toward a basket-dropping wipeout. Luckily, I've been able to recognize it and head it off at the pass by spending some reflective time alone, out of the fray that is our normal, everyday world.

We went to West Texas. We know the way, and we can enjoy mostly free accommodations. It was the natural choice. And, there's always more to see.

Last week, I took some time with one of my bestest friends ever, the one who gave me the verbage "dropped my basket" in the first place, and my other favorite person in the world, my oldest daughter. (Hint: everybody is my favorite. If I'm talking to you, you're my favorite. Each one of my daughters is the most beautiful girl in the world, depending on who's in my lap). Anyway, we took the plunge to take some time away, at the most inopportune time, and with not a lot of funds to fund the time. The intention was to take some time away, spend some time together, see something new, and restore our creative energy. I have therefore not dropped my basket ... yet.

My oldest daughter, who is 14, actually had a good time with a couple of old broads who can be pretty silly and who really like to share their wisdom, according to us, such that it is. She did not jump out of the car, she saw some new things, she did not complain, and she actually started reading a book. Mission accomplished!

My daughter is the master of self-portraits. Notice: she's smiling!

I realized that the funny thing about time is: you have to take it. Steal it. Be really really greedy with it. You'll never get it back. It will never be a better time.

We went to two baseball games. Go Big Bend Cowboys!

Then, it was back to the real world. A world in which my husband works in the mortgage indusry and my painted groove is dependent upon construction and remodeling and extravagant purchases. These are challenging times. But seriously all you can do is get up everyday and go do what it is that you do really well and be fair to people. So far that been a very effective policy. The days go by and all is basically well. It also could be so much worse.

So the moral of the story is, despite all of this, I have a whacky sense of peace. All the trials and tribulations make my sweet little babies going to school (and our nanny who I love like one of my own going her own way, too), seem manageable. A stressful distraction. Diversion? I have faith it's all good. Apparently, this is what faith is all about. It's easy to have faith when life is gravy.

You won't find any gravy around here, but we have lots of love and faith. Oh my gosh, but there's so much freedom in that -- if you can get past the fact that current circumstances are kind of scary and not real luxurious. So I'm smiling, teeth-gritted, with a death grip on my basket.

Not all fun and games ...

2009-07-28T18:25:00.004-05:00

Three quarters of the way through my work day today, and after the toilets backed up and the A/C was barely adequate, I slipped in some mysterious water. It looked pretty much like on cartoons, where the feet fly out to the side and the body crashes to the ground.

In my case, I slipped in the water, my feet flew out to the side, to the left to be specific, and my glasses went flying, breaking into two pieces. The glamorous young working women in treacherously high-heeled pumps in the accounting firm did not see this spectacle, thank God. There I was busting my ass ... wearing oh-so-fashion-forward Crocs. And a gray-green Old Navy t-shirt. Not glamorous by any means, even if they were to envy my free and creative life. They looked better.

So I fly into the air, once my feet left the floor. And seconds later I crash onto my right hip onto the Saltillo tile floor. It is Saltillo tile laid in a brich patter, in case you're wondering. I'm happy to report that my hip did not crack or break, so I'm taking this as a good sign that my bone density is OK.

Now that I'm home and have had a glass of wine, strange aches and pains are beginning to creep in. My left ankle hurts, as well as various other places, including my left hip, which makes no sense. I'm wearing my sunglasses, so that I can see. You know, because my regular glasses broke into two pieces. I have been jarred, I tell you.

Just wanted y'all to know that this painted groove of mine is not near as glamorous as you might imagine. No complaints ... I'm just saying.

2009-07-19T18:26:00.007-05:00

Thursday was my drop-dead date to deliver some cabinet doors I was painting for my friend Wendy. She started out as my client at least eight years ago, but we soon realized that we had to be friends. We had too many issues in common, apparently. Wendy and her husband own a nursing home in Seguin. Let me rephrase that. It is Nesbit Living & Recovery Center.

The reason I'm being asked to paint stuff for her nursing home is because Nesbit LRC is in the midst of a huge renovation that I must say has actually impressed me. And I'm a tough customer because I've had an aversion to nursing homes going waaaay back. Am I alone in this? By this point I'm sure you're wondering where is she going with this rambling blog (or perhaps you're used to it). On Thursday I decided it would be smart to deliver the doors, have them installed on the entertainment cabinet, and then put the final antiquing stain on them while they were hanging. Much easier for me, and much less likely that I would screw them up in transit.

Sounds like a pretty boring story, huh? Well, actually no. Wendy and I decided to go to lunch first. This required me to dress presentably for the first time in weeks, so I wore my trusty uniform CAbi skirt in a jungle print. For my top I wore a faded, brown Old Navy t-shirt, thinking it wouldn't be any big deal if I got stain on it. So I'm walking down the hallway to the Recreation Room where my cabinet was. I zipped by a poor older resident once or twice, walking fast and erratic like I alwasy do. All the while this poor little lady (or so I would assume, not knowing) is oonching herself down the hallway in her wheel chair because, heck, she doesn't have anything better to do. And I SWEAR TO YOU she mumbled under her breath that my skirt was TOO SHORT!

Except you know how older women never mumbled anything. You can always hear it just fine. I have to admit, it is too short. I mean really, I am almost 44. My grandmother would have said the same thing. It was hilarious. And I smiled. It made me think of my Mama.

Ok, as if that's not enough to have made my day, that's only the first thing. I started staining and antiquing and this precious woman came in for what I learned were scheduled domino games. She watched me for a long time and then walked over to me. "This is your calling," she said, as a statement of fact. Wow! I immediately recognized her as a messenger. "Yes, ma'am," I said. "It is. And it doesn't even feel like work." She just smiled, knowingly, and went to find her seat.

Another lady was sitting at a domino table, just waiting for some other players to come join her. She told me she was a pretty fierce player. I asked her if she takes all their money. She said "oh they don't let me have any money." I thought that was too bad. She would probably be able to really supplement her Social Security income if they'd let her gamble every now and again.

So I kept on and the games got going. The entire room filled up. Two ladies, one of which was a little combative, got a little testy, and was told she'd have to leave. It reminded me of someone who got kicked out of a bar one time in Mexico. I wondered if I'll get kicked out of the domino games when I'm an old lady.

All the while, I was pondering that maybe getting old and going to the nursing home is only the worst thing that can happen to you if that's what you think is the worst thing that can happen to you. Like every other aspect of life, it's all how you look at it. I got to thinking about my grandmother, who was a social butterfly and wasn't ever overjoyed to be a housewife way out on a farm in the country. We thought she lived in paradise and led the perfect life, but I think she found it unglamorous and lonely. She loved to go to town, shop, and go with her friend Bonnie for a "cup of coffee and piece of pie." I think she might have liked the nursing home if she had lived long enough to go there.

Well if that wasn't enough, then a group of kids from Vacation Bible School at Faith Lutheran Church came in to sing some songs about God. I was thinking: "what more can happen to make this a wonderful day?" And I had been hoping to sneak in, do my thing, and get out of there as fast as possible. Ha!

Back to what Wendy and her husband David are doing at Nesbit LRC. This is one of the room numbers. Wendy has really gone above and beyond to make it homey and beautiful, transforming what had been institutional and sterile in 1990s pinks and mauves. If a nursing home can look more like a resort, this one is well on its way, with warm, earthy colors and beautiful artwork. All I'm saying is if I have to go one day, just take me there. But I may just have to sneak in some money for the domino and card games...

I'd like to thank God, and Betsy, and Ryan, and my guts

2009-07-06T21:30:00.009-05:00

...

Remember the ugly duckling that was missing a porch or any sort of proper entryway?? Of course you do ... because I'm forever talking or blogging about my favorite place on earth all the time. My husband says I can work Marathon into any conversation. I would be offended if he wasn't right.

Anyway, the picture above is the before picture, on a good day when it was snowing. And the pictures below are the after. I never thought I'd ever see the day when the outside of the house looked as good as the inside.

This is the after. Well, sort of. We're still working on it. New roof. New windows. New paint. I cannot express the feeling of accomplishment.

See the one and only decorative architectural element on this house? The little triangle? Well, I spent all day Sunday painting all that. Yikes. I also forgot sunscreen for some odd reason so I'm looking a little tan and crusty. My hair is getting redder by the minute.

Did you notice the interesting cedar porch? ... I'm not even going to start bragging on my husband again. It's getting old. He doesn't want people to start hating on him once they understand his brilliance and perfectness. OK, yeah, he's still a man and annoying and I don't want him getting the "big-head."

Can you believe this front door mat? I bought it at Tuesday Morning for $9, not realizing it would be the most perfect, matching doormat ever. The blue is perfect. The yellow/gold blends as well. We originally had grand visions of building a new front porch, with flagstone. And then we got realistic and decided to keep the regular, old step. It gets you in the house. And it was free. I love the front door.

OK, let's all flash forward and imagine my Academy Award winning moment: "I would like to thank first, my husband, Ryan, for insisting on the main body-of-the-house-color, SW Crater Gray, when I was waffling toward some safe earthtone. Thank you hunky man in Castroville who told me the name of the paint of his house when Ryan made me get out and go hold my paint fan up to the house...

"And thank you, world-famous Abbey Branch, for suggesting an interesting blue for the doors and windows as a Southwesty homage. Once we got new windows we couldn't paint them blue. The color is Sherwin Williams Oceanside. It's awesome, even though there's not an ocean anywhere near here. Good thing because I'm not a fan of oceans. I'm a mountain girl.

Before the music starts playing to scoot me off the stage, I'd like to thank myself for having the balls to paint the trim Sherwin Williams Brassy. It's avocado-ish, and limey, and gorgeous. Somehow it's perfect. Thank you, my husband, for not being a metrosexual freak and second-guessing me. Thank you, Mom, for not voicing your doubts, and being patient until it all came together.

In the words of Joe Danner in 1983, it's "fannnnnntastic!!!"

The sweetest thing I've ever seen

2009-06-28T21:59:00.006-05:00

Caroline & Catherine

Today I witnessed the sweetest thing I've ever seen. And the best part was I was able to immediately recognize it, and feel it and enjoy it, as the sweetest, most loving gesture anybody could ever see. It was one of those moments you just have to cross your hands across your chest over your heart and say "ahhhh."

That we ended up in church today was in itself a whole other story. I will spare you the hilarity of that for another day. Anyway, we sneaked into church late and sat in the back. We usually sit in the front, up on the right. I've been a right-hand-side-of-church-sitter my entire life. I learned last week that my brother is too. Of course. Toward the end of the service, my husband and I walked with our two little girls up to the altar rail and kneeled for communion. In our church, you kneel there at the altar and the priest comes by and gives you communion in your cupped hands, saying: "the body of Christ, the bread of heaven."

You take the body of Christ, bread of heaven, which is really a little tasteless wafer, and put it in your mouth. Then, along comes another guy (or gal) and they say something about the wine. I drink from the cup because I don't think God's going to let me get sick and die from drinking wine in a silver cup. Some people who are more squeamish dip their little bread of heaven into the cup. Now the one cool thing about Episcopal churches is that the wine is real. To me, grape juice and a cracker is just ridiculous. I'm already going out on a limb trying to think this is the body of Christ, the bread of heaven. Don't insult me with grape juice and a saltine.

The other cool thing about the Episcopal church is that kids who want to join the rest of the body of Christ by getting a little piece of the body of Christ can take communion whenever they want to take it. Second grade is not the magic age. You do not have to take a class and get a white dress, like we all did in Catholic church. Now, if the little kids are really young, and/or their parents have decided they shouldn't take the body of Christ yet, then the priest will give them a nice little blessing on their sweet little heads. Even the blessing is touching, especially if they really mean it, like our old priest Jay did.

Anyway, back to my story. As you might imagine, my little girls were not content getting a nice little blessing on their heads. They wanted to get a piece of the body of Christ and would holler as much, right up there at the altar. "Hey, why can't I have the body of Chriiiiiiisttttttt??" Caroline whined on a couple of occasions. So finally, to save myself the embarassment mostly, and also because I really didn't like the excuse that they weren't old enough to join the rest of the body of Christ in taking the body of Christ -- like second-class citizens or something, we relented and taught them how to hold their little hands out and say "Amen."

Today, things were a little off. A new, interim priest they didn't recognize was bringing the body of Christ, bread of heaven, so instead of putting her precious little hands up, cupped all cute together, Caroline just bowed her head. My guess was she did it more from shyness than anything else. The priest gave her a blessing on her sweet little head and then turned to Catherine.

Catherine, kneeling at the altar, in a very fancy dress and her curly hair pulled up in a high ponytail, held her little hands up. The priest placed the communion into her hands, saying "the body of Christ, the bread of heaven." Then, with her right hand, she picked up the bread of heaven and immediately, without a minute's delay, broke the little wafer in half and handed one piece to her sister.

Oh my gosh. My heart just melted! It was just the most loving, precious thing I had ever seen. I always hear people refer to "God moments," and this morning I most certainly experienced one. That kind of love ... it's amazing.

Hours later, it occurs to me (again) that we can learn a lot from little kids. You know, when we're not yelling at them to stop fighting or to eat their dinner or whatever else they do when they're being kids and we're being frazzled parents doing the best we can with what we have. Our job is only to be aware enough to find the lesson.

Sappy Salute to Kuhny ... Happy Father's Day

2009-06-20T22:17:00.007-05:00

Tomorrow is Father's Day, and I couldn't think of anything better to blog about than the guy who loves me, supports me in this crazy painted groove of mine, and, most of all is my kids' father. Throughout my life, I can think of so many times I found myself standing in front of all the Father's Day cards and no card seemed to fit my particular father, or my particular husband for that matter. Then one day, I met the guy we call Kuhny, and he totally fit the bill, and the card. Buying Father's Day or anniversary cards for him is a snap.

So in lieu of a card, here's my sappy salute to my husband and the father of my girls. He certainly is a keeper.

He loves his Mama, which is always a good sign when selecting a man. I can't say I've always paid attention to such important details as family dynamics and how the father treats the mother and how the son feels about his mother. I generally used to look for things like chemistry, a nice backside, and other equally short-term attributes. But somehow this go-around, I got it right. He loves his mother, but not so much that he's a mama's boy. His father loves his mother -- you get the idea. His dad is kind, and he's kind. From the first day he met my daughter Mary, he liked her but not too much to be creepy. To this day, he still loves her through her teenager years, even though she doesn't quite know how to show him love back. She'll get it one day. I have faith.

Not only is he kind, but he is fun. The bonus is he is kind and fun, yet responsible and dependable. He likes good music, and for some reason likes me even when I look like a corpse in need of lipstick (like in this picture taken at a Ray Wylie Hubbard show). We met at a Gary Stewart concert. That says a lot, right there.

We got married in April 2001. A few years later, my doctor told me our chances of having kids the normal way were slim to none. As I bawled my head off after the doctor's appointment, trying to tell him the grim news via cell phone, he was very matter of fact: "we'll figure it out." A short year later, God helped the best doctors and nurses in the world help us create Catherine and Caroline. And that's when my husband really showed me the kind of man he is.

For him, his kids are not an imposition. He does not "babysit" his kids. When I feel the need to get away from the house and hang out with my girlfriends, he doesn't give me a minute's grief. We're in it together. It' so refreshing.

Oooh, and does he ever loves his girls! Here, he's dancing with Catherine at a Two Tons of Steel show at Gruene Hall.

And those girls love their Daddy. Here, he and Caroline walk to the car after my cousin's wedding. This is one of my favorite photos. Caroline has her Daddy's hand in one hand, and her puppy in their other.

He can light a chimenea like nobody's business. And, he humors me and loves West Texas too. He also gets attached to stuff. For example, he will not turn loose of this Bush/Cheney t-shirt from the 2004 election. I've implied it may disappear one day. "You better not even think about it," he has warned me.

He balances life with business. Throughout our entire dating and married life, he's been on this cell phone, helping people buy and refinance their dream homes. He really, seriously, cares about the mortgage business and helping his clients finance their dreams. One time back when he worked for Wells Fargo, there was a delay in closing a loan for a single, older female client. It wasn't even his fault, but I swear he actually helped move her stuff from a moving truck into a storage unit, and put her up in a hotel for the weekend. I thought he was crazy at the time. Now I can see how that kind of dedication to his clients has paid off.

He likes my crazy family and all its extensions. Here he is at The Oak, listening to a tall tale told by Jason Pence. Isn't he adorable?

Teaching Catherine to play Uno. Yes, I realize she's not wearing any clothes and it's January (the year is wrong on the date stamp). Did I mention he's understanding of idiosyncracies?

I don't know how many men are avid readers of my blog: I'd guess more of you are of the female persuasion. But just in case there's a stray male here and there, can I let you in on a secret? Being a stand-up husband and father is very attractive to a woman. It goes a long, long way toward creating a loving, happy wife who isn't resentful and bitchy. He's not some kind of wimp. He still drives me crazy and leaves his underwear in this strange little pile in one corner of the bathroom. But he also proves there are still good men out there, and men have the ability to be good men if they decide to be good men. It's a decision. And thank God he made it.

So Happy Fathers' Day Kuhny. We all are blessed to have you.

In praise of 6-hour car rides, handy husbands & wild West Texas storms

2009-06-10T21:39:00.012-05:00

My name is Sami and I am addicted to West Texas. I have many issues. You might remember in March I developed a new cloud neurosis. Today on our way home from our 24-hour trek to West Texas and back, Ryan pulled my nose out of my magazine to point out some seriously ominous clouds.

I immediately reached for my camera, and then proceeded to get all wiggly and freakish when the pictures turned out really great. I could not wait to get home and share them with the world:

I saw the clouds above first. Check out all the variations of dark bluish gray, and that one little white puffy cloud.

The following clouds were to the left of our car. I'm saying these would be to the north ... For at least 50 to 75 miles, we drove right alongside this storm system, which kept nicely to itself on the left.

Over to the right, pretty whitish clouds and blue skies.

This exit sign shows all you other West Texas freaks right where we were. I captured this picture rolling along about 85 mph... Pretty good huh? Now you see why I was getting all wiggly and freakish.

Every so often, we had some good lightning, so the storm could show us it was serious.

Did you realize you can be a cracker-jack mortgage guy, talk on the cell phone, and drive through storms on I-10 and make your wife really, really happy with 24-hour treks to West Texas? Who says men can't multi-task? Cell service on I-10 is greatly improved! Back in the day we lost service in Kerrville.

Some people think we're nuts for going on long 6-hour trips to West Texas together, but can I let you in on a little secret? This is the only time we get to think, plan, talk and strategize about our life, our marriage, our kids and careers. The rest of the time we're just making it through the days. Moral of the story: trap yourselves in a car for six hours and see what happens.

OK so then, I turned my attention to what was going on behind the car. Dork alert! The wind was blowing pretty hard, which is normal even without a storm because this is all in the vicinity of the wind farms.

And now for the object of all my affection, and the destination for our 24-hour West Texas trek. See that hideous aluminum window to the left of the electrical boxes? Well, it's going bye-bye. We had to go out there and get good measurements for the new windows! The house is set to get its new paint job in July, and efficient husband doesn't think it will be efficient to paint the whole house and then later rip out the windows and then put up new trim and repaint the trim. He has a point, and since I got to go to West Texas, I was an enthusiastic supporter of his plan.

Notice the beautiful blue paint color Abbey Branch (the famous designer) helped me select. SW Oceanside -- I love it. To the right of the hideous brown, wood-rotted trim board, you can see the future paint color for the body of the house -- SW Crater Gray.

And while you're admiring the door, did you spy the fabulous landing/mini-deck my super-handy, hunk of a husband built a few months ago? If only I could show you the previous way you got into the house. Let's just say it involved a homemade step and a wooden pallet. Very classy.

Life is good, y'all.

Stars aligned, dream job wrapped, all is well...Amen

2009-05-28T21:40:00.012-05:00

Sometimes, everything works out beautifully. A great job comes to me, great clients building a beautiful home in a dreamy development, great builder, agreeable designer. Pinch me. The job I finished today was just such a job. It really was wonderful in every way, this despite the fact that the clients moved in probably a month too soon. Which means they've been living with me, and cabinet makers and stainers and landscapers and pool guys and bobcat drivers and blind installers and bed bringers and rock layers and alarm putter-inner-testers all underfoot, oh just for the last month.

So when I say they are great clients, let me stress how wonderful they are because never once did they express seething hatred for anyone scurrying around their new dream home, in their way, at all hours of their newly retired day. I think I'm going to miss them.

This picture hardly reflects the richness of this kitchen island. I can't say how impressed I am with the Faux Effects Stain & Seal. I was always a Gel Stain girl. But on this job, I didn't kill any brain cells (that I know of) using anything oil-based. Yay for my brain, right?

All the cabinetry in the kitchen is stained a dark walnut-ish stain on knotty alder. They're beautiful cabinets, but the island is set off with an antiqued paint finish. The color is similar to Sherwin Williams' Tatami Tan, but it's really a special mix of Camel and Woody Yellow Setcoat, which makes it so much more durable.

The saying "it's all in the details" is such an understatement with this home. This ceiling treatment is so fabulous. It's in the family room and the man of the home's study/office. Gorgeous.

Are these travertine floors to die for or what? They're laid on the diagonal with the little marble insets. These floors delayed the job oh, a month or so. But I'd say they were well worth it. My client just had to have this chair and its twin. I think they look pretty good with my walls, which are very subtle, not screaming at you "look at me, I'm faux painted!!!!"

Here's another look at the hand-troweled walls. My antiquing finish, what we once called "tea-staining" was a custom blend of Faux Effects Faux Creme Clear, Earth Brown and Italian Sienna.

The powder room turned out really cool. The designer wanted to use one of those new hand-painted wallpapers, but the cost was apparently more than the client felt necessary. I was able to come up with something just as dramatic using a basecoat of Dark Brown Setcoat, plus Lusterstone in Charred Olive, Charred Gold, and a couple of gold Metalglow colors mixed with glaze. It is awesome. The picture above gives you a little bit of a hint, but hardly does justice. I seriously need to hire someone to go take pictures of this house and think I will once they really move in and install their artwork and decor.

So that's what I've been doing. I don't know what I'm going to do with myself now that I don't need to drive almost to Boerne everyday. But I'm sure I'll figure out something. La Posada is calling me: "Samiiiiii, I miss you ..... I'm only three hours away ..... I promise no drug lords will kidnap you while you loll about safely beside the pool with the swim up bar ..... "

This is why I can barely move ... and I need your help!

2009-05-17T20:47:00.007-05:00

Apparently I used my hip flexors in the making of this patio down by the water. I know this because any time I try to move in such a way that my hips are involved, pain shoots up and down and all around my body. I am bone tired.

But it was the best weekend. I worked in the yard almost the entire time, and let the house go to hell in a hand basket. It's a wreck, but our outdoor living space is coming along nicely. I've always preferred to be out in the yard than cooped up in the house. I'm seriously too lazy to limp to the bathtub.

We raked gravel back and forth and then positioned all these rocks. And then, to be really professional for the first time ever, I actually used a level to make sure it was all straight -- and level. So once I found just the right rock and put it into position, it wouldn't be level. So we had to flip it up, re-level the gravel to compensate and then check it again. And again, and then over again. Wish I would have used a level that time I was in a mud freakout after the first flood and we decided we could lay a stone sidewalk all by ourselves. It's still there and highly serviceable, but do be careful if arriving or departing in the dark or drunk, or in heels.

Did I mention I also carried most of all these rocks all by myself, especially after my husband had to move on to other parts of this project, like going to Home Depot and picking out boards. And then measuring and placing the boards on the new dock. You can see part of the new dock under construction in the picture above.

And then, we had enough gravel so I decided to lay some rock all around the base of the outdoor shower. That meant carting all the rocks I wanted to use across the yard and doing the whole process over again. But it was easier because I didn't use such big rocks. I did manage to moan and groan, and walk like an old woman, from one side of the yard to the other. A few times, I'd sit down to make the job easier and couldn't quite get back up.

Oh and I forgot this part: most of these rocks were once part of a walkway we put in four years ago so that Paige would have somewhere nice to walk down the aisle when she and Ruben got married in our yard, down by the water. It was a beautiful wedding. But the rocks turned out to be a hassle for our yardman to weed-eat and edge around. So that yardman, who just happens to be my husband, was all too happy to rip them out and help me move them down by the water. Some of these rocks were so big we had to really put on our German engineering hats and make us a homemade fulcrum with a board and a shovel.

Now imagine if you can, a firepit, with some comfy Adirondack chairs around it. I would love some other sort of chair, just because Adirondacks are the obvious choice, but I don't know what kind. Something cushy with a cushion would be great, but it would get dirty, and wet, and would probably blow into the river every time there was a storm. And I want them to be able to stay outside all the time, because I know myself and I wouldn't feel like traipsing them back and forth. Suggestions?

I don't exactly know what the firepit should look like yet, so I'm open to ideas on this as well. So far, my big idea is a bowl shaped pit, with some kind of custom design cut out along the top, to form a border. And then it potentially would sit in a low stand. Both these ideas will require a nice welder I don't yet know but will have to find.

To close, here's a picture of two of my helpers, Catherine and Bambi. Aren't they growing up to be big girls?

Peligro! This is not politically correct!

2009-05-08T22:34:00.005-05:00

I was at work the other day, slowly wearing away all the cartilage in my shoulders. The stone masons and pool guys outside were toiling in the burning hot sun, having a heck of a time: laughing, smiling, joking amongst themselves. Landscaper guys were moving dirt and mulch all around. The basecoat painters were figuring out how to seal the ceilings of the porches when there was “muy wind.” The cabinet makers were working at a snail’s pace.

And that’s when I started thinking about this blog post. Really, my favorite thing about my job is that while I am transforming people’s spaces, I get to pray and think and ponder big issues. What a bonus. I am one lucky girl.

While I was antiquing the hand-troweled walls on a brand-new dream home to make them look like an old hacienda, I was struck by the differences between the different kinds of subcontractors I come across on the job. I spend a lot of time with subcontractors. Actually, I are one. I am always the only female on the job, and generally, I'm one of the only white ones, which brings me to the point of this post.

Did you know that there are big differences between white subcontractors and Mexican subcontractors? Actually, not all of them are Mexican. One of my favorite fellow painter friends was from Honduras. He figured out how to get himself all the way to Texas all by himself when he was just a boy, and has never seen his family since. He probably never will. It’s not like he can go for a visit on Christmas vacation.

Just in case any of you are getting over-heated because I’m using terms like girl, Mexican, white, etc., just save yourselves the indignation. I warned you this wouldn’t be politically correct. I'm a girl and I'm white. That's just the way it is. I do know all the politically-correct ways to speak and I do it because I'm educated and not racist and really wish we could “all just get along.” Bothering with all that PC speech is also quite tiring.

Getting back to the differences between Hispanic subcontractors and white subcontractors, I can tell you this. The Hispanic ones are just a whole lot more enjoyable to work with on the job. I admire the hell out of them. They work their butts off. They get to the job early and they work all day. But you know what I like best? They smile and laugh and joke with each other while they're doing it. In the blazing hot sun, putting in a pool they'll never get to swim in, they figure out how to have a good time.

I hate to break it to you that white subcontractors are not quite so enjoyable. Their example is not quite so inspiring. Generally, they tend to bitch and moan. It's so unattractive. Their helper is hurt. The job is complicated and hard. Wah wah wah. They get there about 10:30. Leave around 2 p.m. or 3 p.m. If I’m painting in front of a doorway, the white guy will expect me to move my ladder. There are at last three other doors he could use, but I’m in his way.

Yesterday with "muy wind,” the basecoat painter figured out how to seal all the porch ceilings anyway. A white guy would have said he had to come back next week when it wasn't so windy. You think I'm joking. Seriously, I'm not.

White contractors also like to complain about the Mexicans coming in and taking over the trades. And that's probably true. People like a bargain. They also like workers who work hard and show up and are somewhat thankful for the work. There’s another reason white guys are in the trades. Because they like to smoke dope and can’t pass the drug tests for other jobs. Oooooh, did she really write that? It’s one of my theories and I’m sticking to it. That’s the other reason they’re bitter. They smoke dope and have no ambition and barely get by. All of which is sure to make a man grouchy. Particularly when you work in fabulous homes you won’t ever come close to making your own.

One time, on the job with nice guy from Honduras, all the big fat white mediocre housekeeper could do was complain about Mexicans being in the house, as if they were spreading leprosy or something. I guess she thought since I was white I would agree with her. The Mexicans in the house were painting and remodeling. I couldn’t help but advise the homeowner. The next time I was there, a lovely Mexican woman, the wife of the main painter, had taken her place. It was so nice working there with her Christian music playing and all the bad energy from the big fat bitter white maid long gone. The house was also a lot cleaner.

On the job, Mexican subcontractors are more fun to work around. They like to sing. And it’s funny because they really think they can sing well even when they don’t. The white guys are generally grouchy and wishing they were somewhere else.

As I was pondering all this on the job the other day, it occurred to me how much I like to work. I actually like hard work and admire others who work hard (along with people who are smart, and food that is fresh.) I like to accomplish projects and get stuff done. It makes me feel good. I am fulfilled. I wondered how I got to be this way. How do you instill this kind of work ethic in a person, particularly your child? Why am I happy that I climbed a ladder for seven hours and can barely move around without wincing from my various old lady aches and pains? I could have a desk job sitting on my rear, but I don’t want one. Why do some admire sedentary executives in suits over masters of rock work?

The other reason the trades are so fulfilling is because you get a job and you do the job and the job gets finished. It's not like one of those jobs that just keeps on coming and you have no sense of completion. It makes me think of Newman the mailman on Seinfeld. When I finish for the day and limp on out to my truck, I can see what I've done. Usually I'm happy about it. Sometimes I'm all angst-ridden, not in love with it, generally tormented. It’s not all fun and games.

To conclude, I'll leave you with this. It's from the Bible. "The alien living with you must be treated as one of your native-born. Love him as yourself, for you were aliens in Egypt. I am the LORD your God." -- Leviticus 19:34

Oh, and after Moses told everybody what God said in Leviticus, that other guy, Jesus, said “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

That ought to throw some gas on the fire. I’ll save my comparisons between the Israelites and Mexicans in the promised land for another day …

Passion & Photography: Delary Harborth

2009-04-10T14:19:00.010-05:00

It can't all be about paint. Sometimes other media captures my fancy and I just have to share it with you. So today's subject is photography.

This particular story began a few years ago when my youngest brother, Shay, introduced us one Christmas Eve to an interesting and beautiful young woman named DJ. She was really hip and cool and played Pink songs for my daughter and nieces when they were still young and impressionable (now we learn things from them). My daughter Mary connected with her right away, so much so that she told me that if I was to die suddenly that she'd want to go live with CJ and Shay. I could understand that because DJ is full of that mother-hen nervous energy that Mary would recognize and feel comfortable with.

DJ has an intense amount of energy all bundled up in her body, so much so that when I am around her I feel that my hair is blowing back like I'm in a wind tunnel. Anyone who out-nervouses me is a force to be contended with, I say. I just love her and am so happy that she is realizing her dream, just like I am.

Getting back to the story, as you might imagine, she and my brother fell in love and got married. And all along the way through these last six or so years (maybe more), she has been transforming herself into an amazing photographer. You all know how dedicated I am to transformation, so that's why I decided I had to share her with you. First I must disclose I don't know much about photography. I only know it's good when I see it. But I am an expert in passion and big hearts and genuineness and that's what I think Delary (her real name) instills in every photograph. She's amazing, simply because she is seriously and genuinely interested in discovering the truth and beauty in every person.

She took this photo one day of some girl named Mary. Oh yeah... she's my daughter, looking a little disturbingly mature.

As a mother, I like this one a little more.

This was our Christmas picture for 2008. What's amazing here is how relaxed my girls are. Every personality is captured. The blonde one on the right is historically difficult and uncooperative at picture time. But look at her. Somehow DJ brought out Miss Personality.

In the picture below, DJ photographed Lizeth at my request, according to my ulterior motives. I think Lizeth is the most beautiful person. She is so loving and kind and peaceful, all qualities I admire immensely because I don't consider myself loving and kind and peaceful. Lizeth has cared for my girls for four years now, as if they were her own, without ever making me feel like less than a mother.

I wanted DJ to take Lizeth's picture so I could show Lizeth how beautiful she is. Somehow Lizeth didn't get the memo that she's beautiful. And this was my way of showing her how wrong she has been all these years.

DJ also captures ordinary, everyday occurrences because she's obsessed with photography, just like I'm obsessed with paint. She brings her fancy schmancy camera to every family get-together. And we are all so fortunate because of it. I will treasure these pictures forever. In the picture below, my two girls and my little niece Piper were swinging in their Paw Paw's porch swing.

They were captured, at that moment, so honest and happy. And so content to just be swinging, together.

This picture makes me all teary eyed now. Just imagine how I'll feel about this picture when Caroline is grown up and Paw Paw and his crazy place in the country are just memories. This photograph froze in time, what had been a whole lot of crazy, energetic motion. Caroline had been running up that little dirt pile and down, over and over, like a horse, because she pretends she's Spirit. She stopped, for just this moment, when DJ got her attention. And her four-year-old little self will never be just this way ever again. Lucky for me, I'll always have this picture.

DJ also is a big music fan, and her work reflects that love:

This couple is having such fun. Can't you just see it in their body language?

Dont' know the band, but I like the drummer...

Sometimes photographers capture personalities, when their mothers are hoping for more traditional shots. Often, I think these kinds of pictures turn out to be the best.

Diamondbacks or Decor ... take your pick

2009-04-02T08:11:00.010-05:00

Last week I could barely contain myself because we had plans to visit friends who live on a ranch in the center of Texas and take the kids to the Diamondback Jubilee in Lometa. I realize generally rattlesnakes and jubilees don't really go together, not nearly as well as rattlesnakes and shotguns. Just know visiting the Joneses makes anything fun. And, to be truthful, seeing all those snakes rounded up and in big wooden boxes is kind of exciting. Besides, the fewer rattlers rattling around ready to bite my kids is a good endeavor I can support.

Besides just being blessed to be in the company of the Joneses for an entire weekend, we got to see their beautiful new house. I knew it would be neat, because Maggy is a really interesting person with a lot of style, but I wasn't expecting it to be this nice, or daring.

This is the formal living room that you see when you come in the front entryway. The formal dining area is to the right. There are a few touches still to be completed, such as logs in the fireplace, and maybe a nice rug.

I especially like the detail on the marble flooring. Some details are not quite complete, such as the gas logs for the fireplace, and a rug. My friend has so carefully put her home together and just to have it finished to this extent with three kids and her responsibilities on the ranch and for their businesses ... I don't know how she does it. When I asked about a table I especially liked in the more informal living room near the kitchen, Maggy replied, "oh, I found that in a barn," and then explained their home is just a big collection of pieces they've gotten from family and here and there through the years. Did I mention she's gracious and lovely, and not at all pretentious? She really does remind me of several lovely ranch women who retained all their gracious womanly charms. It's true that you can come from the country and not be a hayseed.

Here's another look at the formal living area. I especially liked the gray risers on the stairs.

A closeup of the flooring in the formal living area. No wonder this house took 21 months to build.

Maggy has one daughter, Marla. Her room is painted a dark, dusty pink. It actually looks more Pepto in this picture than it does in real life.

I wonder if Marla puts her bed back together this nicely every morning before school...? My guess is not. If my daughter had that many pillows I would be sure to break a hip tripping over them, on the floor, in her room.

This window seat was a nice touch. I loved how the trim is this dark putty gray, almost mushroom, color throughout. In this picture, you can just barely see the crown moulding as well. The color combination actually matures the pink. Had the trim been white ... the effect would have been so much more cutesy.

What's so awful is these are not even my most favorite parts of their home. My little impish angels snagged my camera and took picture after picture of themselves, their nostrils, the kids playing upstairs, everything -- and wore down the battery in my camera before I realized what was happening. So I guess now I'll have to invite myself back just so I can take more pictures.

As a sneak peek, however, let me just tell you this: the guest bath had the most interesting, almost tangerine- and cantaloupe-colored onyx tile as a vanity backsplash and inlaid in the travertine floor and shower surround. I had never seen anything in that color range and I fell in love with it. The walls were a cantaloupe color. It was awesome. Sounds odd and interesting, but trust me it was beautiful and peaceful, and very subdued in a colorful way.

Then, in her kitchen, she had this beautiful granite in a brown and cream combination atop cream-colored cabinetry that was very lightly antiqued. And the whole house was trimmed out with above-average crown moulding and baseboards. Maggy totally paid attention to the details. All the beds had great linens and exceptional pillows. It's a wonder they got rid of me on Sunday!

OK, now that I've told you all that about design & decorating, etc., back to the Diamondback Jubilee, which actually just celebrated its 39th year. Yes, for 39 years they've been rounding up rattlesnakes around Lometa. And apparently they need to given all the snake stories I heard over lunch. This year's Jubilee was miserable: Saturday morning it was about 40 degrees and the wind was blowing about 30 mph. See? Look at Maggy's hair. She's holding my daughter Caroline for warmth. Caroline isn't even looking at the rattlesnakes because she's too cold!

Even Mary can't give me a glamour girl pose. Also, we live in Texas and are generally unprepared for coldness.

Here's Catherine looking down into a big box of snakes. Her hair is a fright as well. Her jacket is also inadequate.

And these are the snakes. See, these Jubilee people are really doing a good deed, getting these snakes off the streets, or the pasture, whatever. Apparently they milk them for their venom and then also get their skins and their meat. Blek. They say they didn't have an exceptional roundup this year because it got so warm so early in the spring and the snakes left their dens before the snake finders (or whatever they're called) could get there to catch them. That means more of them are out there, just slithering around.... sssssss .......

2009-03-26T09:11:00.005-05:00

Yesterday I was blessed to spend the afternoon in a house where I've done quite a bit of decorative painting. The original purpose of my visit was to discuss colors for our next project in the master bath. But of course when I enter this house I never want to leave, so I lingered and my client and I had a really nice visit. A continuing lesson for me is this: When you slow down and listen, and take time to engage, wow you can learn some stuff. I might not get as much done, but I think it's making me a better person.

In our most recent project, the client had the walls wallpapered, and I transformed the regular old sheetrock columns to complement the wallpaper (but not match exactly) using FE Metallic Bronze Setcoat & Brown Suede Lusterstone. The baseboards and windowsills were also painted with FE MetalGlow in New Penny Gold.

Decorative painting makes me a decent amount of money, but that pales in comparison to the friends and mentors the business has brought to me. That's the blessing part of it. I hope somewhere out there in all my jobs there will be a person that needs something I have so I can return the favor.

This Lusterstone powder room was one of the first jobs I took after recovering

from twin birth ... This is Lusterstone in Tequila Sunrise, Cantaloupe & Green Onyx.

When I first met the really smart woman of this house probably eight or nine years ago, I was told by the interior designer who hired me that the homeowner was "the sweetest woman you'll ever meet." Sweet? I don't know that I would use that word now that I have known her all these years. She is kind, and gentle and very, very wise. But I'm not into sugar these days and neither is she. She's much more than sweet.

My first job in this house was this kitchen remodel.

So anyway, I spent the afternoon doing what I once would have thought was frittering. Now I know it was time well-spent. What's really exciting is our next adventure, which will involve freeing my client from flowery wallpaper and transforming the walls in the master bath with a rich combination of Lusterstone in Bordeaux (a pinky red) and maybe Champagne Mist all mixed together. It's going to be fabulous. And I promise to show pictures just as soon as we're finished.

And the moral of the story is...

2009-03-24T14:18:00.003-05:00

Like my Papa always said: There's a lid for every pot.

hahahahahahahahaha

2009-03-14T13:46:00.004-05:00

The texting and facebook and myspace world is getting on my nerves.

Can anybody just write hahahahaha anymore? Must we lol? What if I want to snicker quietly to myself (which I do quite alot)?

And just when lol was really bugging me, now I have to see lmao. How ridiculous is that? Could I be any older and grouchy? But seriously it's really stupid to write on your facebook comment "Oh Mary you are so funny... remember that time in high school? ... lmao!!@!

What is happening to our world? I tend to blow everything out of proportion, I know, but really, this could signal the end of refined culture and our whole world going to hell in a hand basket.

Oh but wait! It gets worse. Now we have lmfao.

No offense any of you dear, dear people I love who use lol, lmao, and lmfao. I still love you but you're getting on my nerves.

A glimpse into my inner turmoil and/or twisted idiocy

2009-03-13T14:20:00.010-05:00

Anyone who's had the misfortune of being withing talking distance of me in the last few weeks knows my cloud job totally traumatized me. It was an awesome opportunity, really overwhelming, and just a big damn job.

This scissor lift saved my life

In preparation, I even took a class with Nicola Vigini to refresh and refine my skills, and make sure I did the job justice. And also, I needed to figure out the most efficient way to accomplish this job on a really tight schedule. Let's just say Nicola makes it look easy. It was waaaaay harder than I expected. Still, I finished the job and got paid. So why am I still freaking out about it? How many times can I use I in that paragraph for God's sake?

It did not turn out the way I imagined it in my mind. At least to me. The client was happy. The builder was practically sweeping me out the door and loading my truck for me. Now, everywhere I go there are clouds. You know, like in the sky. But that's not all: I see them on every TV show, pieces of junk mail, in the grocery store. They're everywhere, damn clouds. And I'll never get away from them. They're pretty much part of my atmosphere. Yours too, probably.

They didn't photograph exactly great either.

Being an artist is not all fun and games. You have a vision of what you want to accomplish, and sometimes you don't get it to turn out just the way it looked in your head. Sometimes the builder says you have to finish today so the lighting can be installed and the floor can be grouted. Stupid details like that. I would have farted around perfecting that damn entry way for another week. I might even have screwed it up somehow. But still, I wanted it to be perfect.

My smart friend Wendy says I'm just suffering from my own unreasonable expectations. I met the client's expectations, so get over it and move on. Easy for her to say. She's my friend that forced me to knit. She taught me to knit left handed, like her. I'm right handed. She knits all sorts of pretty scarfs and baby blankets. At our last Knit Night at Chiro Java, after I had been working on the same sofa throw for at least one and a half years, I tore out every stitch of it and rolled up all that fabulous baby alpaca yarn into balls. It was just too hideous.

In this case, there's really no arguing with me that this was one hideous throw. It's a pretty damn hideous picture of me, too, come to think of it. All the other knitters at the table were about to wet their pants laughing at me and my hideous creation.

So I guess the lesson I'm supposed to be working on has something to do with perfection. And until I figure out what the lesson is and conquer this obstacle, I will not be satisfied, dammit.

They don't teach common sense in college...

2009-03-06T22:08:00.005-06:00

So I got this big job painting clouds in the entry of a "destination gas station," which promises to be the Buckees for the Corpus bound. Basically the jobsite included me, some electricians and about 30 guys we'll presume are Newcomers from South of the Border all busy pouring concrete, setting tile & installing rock on some pretty serious deadlines, all taking our turn at the porta-potties and water-hose wash station.

For the first three days of the job, I wondered to myself, what am I going to pack for lunch? Here's how my inner conversation with myself went, as I stood in front of the refrigerator each morning: "What can I take for lunch? These yummy beans? They're my favorite meal, afer all. This Lean Cuisine? No, I can't take that, they need to be heated. Where would I heat it up? The competitors next door aren't going to let me use their microwave. There's no love lost there, especially since their sign says they're 'American-owned' just because the owner of my station was from some other country at some point. Whatever. I suppose I could drive across the freeway and use the micro at the owner's other station across the way. That's a hassle. ... Oh screw it, I'll take a sandwich."

So day after day, I ate a cold sandwich. It was tasty: on my fancy Ezekial bread, turkey, lettuce, mayo, mustard and horseradish. And then one day, while I was eating my ok, but not mind-blowing cold sandwich purely for sustenance and not enjoyment, one of the Newcomers on my jobsite came walking up carrying something large and white. I initially thought it was a box.

No, it was a microwave.

What the hell! The Newcomer carrying the microwave unplugged something important they were using like a drill and plugged in the microwave! And then he and all his Newcomer friends proceeded to gather round and heat up tasty lunches of carne guisada and tacos. All while I sat there eating a cold sandwich, wishing I had my beans.

In case you're wondering, the moral of the story is yet to come. And here it is: Any time you or anyone you know feels compelled to think you are smarter than a Newcomer just because you can speak English and you were fortunate enough to be born on the right side of the Rio Grande, please take a moment to recall Miss Smarty Pants Sami with the college education, sitting there in her high-dollar SUV, wasting gas with the air conditioner on, eating a cold sandwich while the Newcomers ate tasty warm lunches they heated up in their portable microwave.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Let's Preview: What I'm Going to Write About When I Have Time...

2009-02-25T21:08:00.006-06:00

It's ridiculous. I have severalllll subjects to blog about. Practically everything I've done lately is blog worthy (although sadly not all is sponge-worthy). Anyway, do I have time to download pics? No. Do I need to be in bed right now? Yes. I am bone-tired. The only thing saving my life is a handy scissor lift. So because my six or five readers are dying to learn more, I'll offer up an enticing preview of what's to come. You know, so I don't forget.

1. Rodeo. Let's just say we've come a long way baby.

2. The spec house down the street. Or, how the builder screwed me, and I "didn't even know it was happening..." Despite the f-ed up lighting. It's turning out lovely.

3. My cloud job. Wow. This one is a doozy. I cannot believe I actually got this job. More importantly, I can't even believe I am doing it, and not half-bad either.

4. I love newcomers, my term of endearment for illegal aliens. That ought to have you coming back for more. Just call me Miss Non-PC, don't put me in your damn Republican demographic box ever again ... I have my opinions and they cannot be categorized.

5. Why I may have to stop blogging. Is it sucking the creative life out of me and keeping me from writing the next Great American Novel? ... Well, it wouldn't be a novel even if I write it. It would be one of those good must-reads where it could be non-fiction, could be fiction to protect the guilty. You just never know.

Basically, I'm putting on my Judas Priest t-shirt and taking the gloves off. I'm tired of playing nice.

Help Wanted: Implementation Assistant

2009-02-10T18:08:00.004-06:00

I'm here to paint but I can't seem to find my groove. It was that whole day of caulking that killed it. Or, the 30mph+ winds are messing with my chi...

While I was caulking, I couldn't help but think that it sure would be more efficient if I had a nice, subservient helper, kind of like a cabana boy, but with knowledge of paint. At this point there is nothing glamorous about what I am doing.

I have the ideas. I just need an implementation assistant.

Visualize this: In praise of the Sherwin Williams Color Visualizer

2009-02-05T15:18:00.017-06:00

Do you love it? Do you want to marry it?

I love the Sherwin Williams Color Visualizer. It is so much fun to click and drag colors and see what you can come up with. It also will suggest colors for you, which is pretty handy because it will offer suggestions you wouldn't think of yourself.

You know I've been contemplating (obsessing, actually) about exterior paint colors for the Marathon, Texas, retreat house. It's what I do. I think about paint colors. And then I also think a lot about that house. The poor thing has been quite neglected through the years. We have been lovingly encouraging it to be, if not a swan, then at least a really cute duck. The energy there is restorative. The view is magnificent. One day I hope to have other people enjoy and restore themselves there. Here's what it looks like now:

Well, I doubt it's snowing right now, but you know what I mean. One day soon it will get a new front porch and a little overhang over the back door -- and a new paint job, ASAP!!! I know, it could use some new windows but that's another project for another day. The goal here is to get the house to visually acceptable.

On the top photo, I was playing around with the Color Visualizer. I used my personal favorite, SW 6410 Brassy, for the trim. The Color Visualizer actually suggested SW 6496 Oceanside for the door and I have to agree that it's quite dramatic, especially given the Southwest blue-door tradition.

To check whether I was out of my mind with the Brassy choice, I enlisted Abbey at Design-Block to help me. She knows West Texas and I'm sure those in the know would say her design aesthetic is quite sophisticated -- whatever that means. I'm from Alpine.

Abbey suggested some other options:

This one has SW 6951 Cote d' Azur for the trim and SW 6607 Cherry Tomato for the door. All of these use SW 6165 Connected Gray for the base color, although the real selection is SW Crater Gray from way back in the day old skinny fan. It's still really similar to Connected Gray:

Pretty cool, right? But something makes me feel like it's a little too whimsical and cartoonish. I keep thinking Minnie Mouse is going to come out that door. I don't want the house to just stick out and stop traffic. I want it to stop traffic but in a more subtle way.

Ooooh! This one really blows my skirt up. Here Abbey suggested SW 6477 Tidewater as the trim color. And the Color Visualizer offered up SW 6342 Spicy Hue for the door. It's a toss-up. This one is probably the safer, less edgy option. It would be my second favorite, for sure.

Let's also mention, because I know you're thinking it: The house on the Color Visualizer is just a wee bit more visually appealing than the poor little thing sitting out there all by itself in Marathon. Very true, but let's just say you get what you pay for and they don't even have anything close to that adorable in Marathon. So we're working with what we have, such that it is.

So what do you think?

Pix from my creative field trip

2009-01-29T15:37:00.012-06:00

Sometimes you just need to get out and see the world to get some inspiration, aka go shopping with your girlfriend(s). So that is what Wendy and I did yesterday. Here's a look at what tickled our fancies:

Our first stop was Architectural Antiques, 403 Dawson, on the near east side of San Antonio, where I spied these great old ceiling tiles. I am thinking of facing the skirt around the tub in my bathroom with these. The plain old white tile is rather boring.

Wendy was looking for some columns to use as decor pieces in the remodelling of their nursing home. Nestbit Living & Recovery Center in Seguin is going to be like no other nursing home I've ever seen:

This pair of columns were just the right height, and also still had what's left of their paint job. Architectural Antiques strips a lot of what they sell, but Wendy wanted the old crusty paint. She said she only needed one column but I was so uncomfortable with that idea. "You can't just buy one of them. What about the other one? You can't just leave it here," I reasoned. She bought them both. Women are just reasonable that way.

While Wendy was seriously shopping, I noticed I really liked the "patina" on this old door. If I was to use this as a linen closet or pantry door, I would leave it just the way it is.

My favorite thing about enormous old antique stores and warehouses like this are the surprises you'll find around every corner. This beauty below was hanging from the ceiling -- above the loading dock. Go figure.

Totally gorgeous and interesting. You won't see this quirky chandelier hanging over the breakfast nook in your local McMansion. Please note: they do not sell this in the Pottery Barn catalogue. I really, really wanted to take it home.

OK these were so cool and I'm sorry I don't know their official name. They were in the lighting area and so I know they are globes for some kind of hanging light fixture. They were fabulously gold on the outside and silver mercury glass-like on the inside. LOVE IT!

I could imagine myself building an entire house around this door. It was at least 8 feet tall.

If you have just the place for this cool old bank vault door from the old Jourdanton State Bank, it will only cost you $12,000. I'm betting for that price you would be furnished with the combination.

After spending around two hours in that big old warehouse, we got a good recommendation for lunch and found our way to Madhatter's in King William. They have an inspired menu of sandwiches and soups and teas and wines. It looks like the restaurant is located in two old houses joined but a glassed in connecting hallway. Rooms go this way and that and so it's easy to find a great place for conversation. It's also a cell-phone-free zone, the big sign tells you at the door.

When we were walking to our car after lunch, I spied this darling house with the good paint job:

You can't tell from the picture, but the wall color is a soft blue/green. The trim is a creamy antique white but much less white than it appears in this picture. And then those dark accents were a darker green that I wasn't crazy about but it was still very well-done.

We then visited some quirky second-hand shops in the Midtown area on Blanco Road north of downtown, but the salvage place we wanted to visit was closed. There were some interesting pieces suitable for transformation but in major need of new upholstery, right across the street from Casbeers. Next time we'll have to make the trip there again and then see what's going on over on Hildebrand. ...

2009-01-25T14:03:00.005-06:00

When you first get one of these awards, it's real exciting because you feel someone finally noticed. And then comes the pressure. It's akin to receiving one of those chain letter emails that suggests if you don't forward it on to at least 29 people you do not love the Lord. I hate those. At first I sent them and then I decided the Lord knows me and he won't mind if I don't play along. He did make me a non-conformist, after all.

But Honest Scrap? This one is fun. Here are the rules: First, choose a minimum of seven blogs that you find brilliant in content or design. Secondly, show the seven winners' names and links on your blog, and leave a comment informing them that they were prized with “Honest Scrap." Well, there’s no prize, but they can keep the nifty icon. Lastly, list at least ten honest things about yourself.

I don't know if I have discovered a minimum of seven brilliant blogs yet but I'll nominate the blogs I like and hopefully if they've already been awarded and/or think these awards are stupid, they'll just ignore them. I do think they are useful for drawing blog readers to your blog if that's your intent.

Brilliant Blogs

1. Lucchese to Louis Vuitton. Honest woman that Meg. And she always plays a song on there that makes me go back in the day and get all misty-eyed. Her latest series on divorce has killed me. And she's also a West Texas girl which is all I have to say about that.

2. Hill Country House. Don't know her at all but whenever I check out her blog she always has something on there design-related that interests me. Special note: she is based in the Hill Country (duh!) so she's kind of local and the places she writes about are do-able.

3. Laura U Blog. She's way to busy to respond to this award, but Laura U of Laura U Collection always has something interesting to say on her blog and something interesting to buy in her store.

4. Design-Block. I'm always looking for a new post from Miss Design-Block and we really do need to have lunch because I have a lot of questions I want to pick out of her brain that are design-related. We go way back ... and yes, she's another West Texas girl.

OK, that's all I can muster. I have other blogs I follow when I can, but these are my top four that I think even need mentioning. Some of the others, like Cote de Texas are just too world famous, so I'm not even going to bother. And Lavenderchick nominated me for this award so she's already gotten it.

OK now for the hard part. 10 Honest Things about Me. Yikes.

1. I am fiercely conservative and crazy-liberal, all at the same time.

2. My zone of personal space is extremely wide and deep.

3. Which brings me to the fact that I cannot allow anyone breathing my air. Space issues.

4. I have a thing for chihuahuas. Don't ask me why.

5. I don't like interruptions. I like to get in a groove and go with it. Now you know why I'm so frustrated.

6. In high school I had a spiky mullet. I was trying to be all rock n roll, hard core. It was the 80s, what can I say?

7. The test you take in high school that tells you what you should be when you grow up suggested that I should be a plumber. At the time I thought that was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard, but now that I am a decorative painter and realize I like to work alone, in my painted groove, of course, I completely understand. It only took me 25 years to get to this place...

8. I was artistically frustrated for most of my life. And that's why I am a fierce proponent of arts education for ALL children and why the public school system makes me insane.

9. I wish I could eat sushi every day.

10. I take note of the artwork in construction jobsite port-a-potties. In fact, I am going to start chronicling this for all the world to see because it's fascinating. So don't steal my idea.

There's a big question mark hovering over my head...

2009-01-23T13:35:00.007-06:00

Make a note of this day: I'm asking for help because I don't know what to do. I'm generally pretty self-sufficient (which isn't always a good thing but can come in handy in a pinch), but I just don't know what to do about this particular problem. So I am seeking the advice of my six or or five blog readers.

OK. Here is the dilemma. You all know I love transforming interesting pieces of furniture with paint and whatever else to give them new life. And, I just happen to have a garage/studio full of stuff that needs a home. I see pieces all the time that are just begging me to fix them and find them a home. I can't buy any more because there's no room. The real problem is, I don't have any idea what I'm supposed to do with the stuff if I was to transform it. So I'm stuck and meanwhile there's not much room for painting the pieces people are actually going to pay me to paint.

See what I mean? I love, love, this cocktail table but I already have a one that I cannot get rid of ... someone else really needs it. I also can see it with floor cushions all around it...

So here sit all these lonely pieces of furniture. If I were to get started on it, will it be the right color? How will the person who needs it even know it's available? Where can I display these treasures for sale? I've said my greatest desire is to hole up in my garage and create these works of art and then have them magically sell. I have the know-how and the want-to, I just don't have the how or the where or the who when it comes to sales. And, I don't exactly live in a hotbed of artsiness. But I am willing to travel.

A retail store requires labor and being stuck there and rent and all that overhead. I've already done that. Online? Ebay or etsy? This is really appealing, but some of this stuff is big. Website? That's great but you gotta know it's a website before you go there and check it out and buy it. I'm perplexed. A cooperative venture is really what I need, but where, and with whom? The perfect thing would be a really cool store with furniture & art & jewelry & my stuff scattered within it.

So there you have it: What should I do?

Do you really want to know this?

2009-01-15T10:49:00.014-06:00

It's been so long since I have blogged, I almost wonder whether to blog and why? Does anyone need to know what I'm doing? Does anyone care?

I originally thought I'd blog to promote my work. As an artist, it's difficult to mix in marketing and promotion. In my perfect world, I'd retreat into my garage and not come out until I had created the perfect faux ocelot masterpiece on a shabby little piece of furniture someone had sold at a garage sale -- and then watch as my transformed masterpiece magically sold itself so I could buy some new shoes. When I work, I bust my hump, mostly to suit myself (which is a really hard job). Somehow the client almost always loves it. When it seems like I'm just doing a job for money, and not personally doing my part at beautifying the world, it's no fun. Maybe blogging is self-analyzing. Hmmm.

After that fascinating peek into my twisted personality, here's a gallery of sorts of what I did last year. Depending on how many images make my cut, it will be my Top 6 or 5. (six or five is just funner to say than five or six). These are in no particular order, because it's just a hassle to move the pictures around.

Patty's powder room. It's just pretty and you want to be in Patty's house because of Patty. Base color is SW Nomadic Desert.

My shower wall. This has everything but the kitchen sink on it, but includes Fauxstone Pull-off and a couple of colors of Lusterstone over SW Blonde. It makes me happy everyday.

Who doesn't love lime green bar stools? The antiquing stain makes them a little edgy.

The client wanted leopard. I procrastinated and couldn't find a stencil locally. I didn't know how to do leopard. So maybe two days before the install, I sat down with a printout of leopard skin and made it happen with a cheapy paint brush from my daughters' watercolors. I was quite pleased. God was with me that day, for sure, because I had no idea what I was doing.

Gwynne's powder room. It was so hard and it looks so good. This is Topaz Venetian Gem & wax, and that's all I'm going to tell you. When you walk into the room, you just have to reach out and touch the wall to see what it is.

Though I wasn't in love with this tile, the paint color on these cabinets was such a rich red. The only problem was the painters had cut it so thin everytime you brushed past them they'd scuff. So I antiqued and sealed them and they were awesome. The growling, teeth-baring, massive barking dog on this job that the client told me was just "all bark" and would "eventually leave me alone" made me really glad to get the hell out of that house.

I really worked on my skins last year. This looks like yummy dark brown leather.

Anything I did in a powder bath with this fabulous light fixture is going on my top list. I just love it. And I love the client with the balls to pick it out. When I am a few years older, I want to be like her. Tough and confident and rich so I can be philanthropic.

And then there was my favorite blog, I mean rant, of the year. If you are curious, just click here.

In praise of Wisteria & shopping online

2008-12-16T22:13:00.008-06:00

I love shopping online. It's 10:30 and I just made a major dent in my Christmas list. Times must be hard. It's a little more than a week before Christmas and the sales are incredible. You must go check out http://www.wisteria.com/. Their holiday clearance sale is amazing. And I didn't even come close to buying all the things I wanted. Here's a peak at what I couldn't pass up:

First I fell in love with these charming little ornaments, handmade with antique silver beads. I wanted them for myself, but since this is the season for giving, I refrained. I also think they would be beautiful stitched to a stocking.

Earlier in the week I wondered what to get our godchild, Kyra, for Christmas. What could I get her that would have a lasting impact and not just clutter up her house (like mine)? An ornament seemed a thoughtful, yet easy gift. Since she's only one year old, by the time she leaves the nest she'll have a nice start on her very own tree. Fabulous. I could start a tradition and ease the pain of thinking up an idea for the next 20 years. These days I am all about streamlining.

Then I had a brainstorm: why not start and carry out this same tradition with my nieces! And then what about my daughters? I can't leave them out in the cold. My two nephews are on their own. One day they'll have wives and you know how women are. I can just hear it: "Some old aunt is going to tell me what ornaments to put on my tree....." I'll spare them the drama.

Anyway, that's how much of my Christmas list was conquered in about 30 minutes. Starting this year, I plan to get each kiddo something fun, like the Hannah Montana wig I got Aschlen last year. She clutched it to her chest and with all the emotion of an Academy Award winning actress, almost whispered, "I needed this." Obviously I was filled with joy because I had nailed the perfect gift.

The kids won't care about the ornaments, or understand their significance, at least not now. But after their mothers do a good job raising them, hopefully one day they will appreciate my crazy aunt Christmas legacy. I think I am getting old and nostalgic.

Originally I thought I would get a range of ornaments because there were so many beautiful contenders on sale. These beautiful glass ornaments in green were in my shopping cart for a while:

Although they are stunning, the lightbulb went off that everyone should get the same ornaments. That way, when I'm long gone, having worn out my broken down earthly body, there will be similarities among all my girls' trees. One Christmas, many years from now, won't it be cool when my niece Aschlen passes by little Piper's tree and remembers "the year crazy old Aunt Sami gave us these ornaments?" That will make me very very happy from my afterworld perch.

Having snatched up at least 8 sets of four ornaments for just $7.60 a set, (what a bargain!!!!), I couldn't pass up this handy contraption designed to contain all those Christmas cards currently in a pile on our buffet. Several lucky families are getting this:

At $14.50, and 41 inches tall, I think this Christmas card holder is amazing. Can you tell none of my family members read this blog? I'm giving away all my secrets.

And check out this wreath! At $14.50, I mean who could pass this up? It's made from birch wood. I must say, however, that this bow is ghastly. What the heck?

I don't know who is getting this wreath. I decided to buy it for that "just-in-case-I-forgot-someone" present and if that never comes up, I can keep it for myself.

Fabulous Addictions & blogs I love

2008-12-03T13:33:00.007-06:00

Wow! The love just keeps pouring in! This time, Lavenderchick nominated me for this most fabulous "Your Blog is Fabulous" award. Again, my heart is so big. Oh, did I tell anyone that over Thanksgiving my mother, Teeni, got the "my heart is so big" inside joke all wrong and asked me: "is your heart large?" She kind of drawled it out, Laaaarge???? If you knew Teeni, you would be falling on the floor laughing right now.

OK, back to my award. It apparently has nosy questions that come with it. Since I myself have been called some variation of nosy a time or two, I will play along:

Here are the rules: Copy and paste the rules and instructions in your post. When posting on receiving the award, make sure you include who gave you the award and link it back to them. Post five winners and link it back to them as well. Post five of your addictions. Add the award image. Let your winners know you gave them an award by leaving them a comment on their blog.

5 Addictions (no particular order):

1. Coffee. Alright, it probably has something to do with my whirling freakishness, but I'm sorry. I cannot be perfect. I gave up smoking and wild living. This is the best I can do.

2. Red wine. See excuses above and add in that I have three children, all girls and one is almost 14. I love almost all red wine, but my favorite is La Crema Pinot Noir, which little old me discovered on my first trip to Sedona. I also must send a shout out to my good friend St. Genevieve for all those lean times when she was there for me.

Me, drinking red wine on Lavenderchick's sofa: (note need for Botox, which I hope to become addicted to in 2009)

3. Fixing. This is my most obsessive compulsion. And don't start emailing me with suggested pharmaceuticals. God made me this way and the rest of you will just have to cope. No matter what I see, I want to fix. If it is a house, I analyze it and try to figure out what would make it look better, new paint colors that would transform it, a better landscape design. If it is a marketing piece written by my darling husband, I edit it. My fixing obsession is a curse. And I do realize it's annoying. I just can't help it. However, I will say that I do apply this fixative curse to myself and I have seen improvement in the last few years. Part of my personal improvement has been learning that I cannot fix people. So I try not to try.

4. West Texas and Mountains. I love mountains and the desert, so I love West Texas. I think about it all the time. And one day, when I'm an old lady, you'll be able to find me sitting on my porch, staring at the mountains, thinking about something I need to fix. I used to say I'd be smoking a cigarette, but I really think I've kicked that addiction for good.

See me trying to grow a plant in the desert. Most people will see this and think 'how pitiful.' But I'm here to tell you this mini century plant is thriving in its little rock circle! Note the nice dry dirt and not a hint of mud. When you are from West Texas, mud is a problem.

5. Learning. I love to learn stuff. I love my smart friends who also like to learn stuff and are therefore smart. I like people who are not smart only if they are interesting and I can therefore marvel at their flawed nature or twisted upbringing. Being from West Texas, I can say I know a lot of smart people and probably just as many who are flawed, twisted and interesting. I pledge never to reveal who is who.

Here's me and three of my smart friends in West Texas, at the Gage. It doesn't get better than this. Oh yeah, and we drank some red wine. See, we are all smiling.

And here's a pic of me and my two best friends, who just happen to be smart and are from West Texas!
In this photo, I now notice I must have been having a hot flash. Compared to everyone else in this photo, I appear quite exposed.

That's it for me and My Fabulous Blog Award. To share the love, I'm nominating the following super cool bloggers I follow. Some of them may already have received this award and I just don't know it.

1.Joni at Cote de Texas. Since I am addicted to learning, I love Joni's blog because I learn about design and see beautiful things. And, I have a sneaking suspicion that she's more addicted to coffee than me. She is way too famous and cool to respond to this chain letter award, but I love her and am nominating her all the same.

2. Lucchese to Louis Vuitton. I just discovered this West Texas girl so go check her out. Her blog right now is serenading me with "Silver Wings." Must be a girl I need to get to know.

3. Design-Block. I just love Design Block when she blogs, but she's busy and not as prolific as I'd like. But when she does say something, it's good.

4. Laura U. A darling young designer in Houston. She's got a great shop on Westheimer, Laura U Collection, and is creating some beautiful interiors that recently won some ASID awards. I love her website as well, www.laurau.com

5. Cheap Chic and Lizzy Webb. Another new blog discovery for me. I already love her. One of my favorite things is clicking on to blogs that my favorite bloggers follow. Lizzy appears to be Joni's daughter and although I am old enough to be her mother, she is darling and I love her fashion sense and the way she writes. Again, I don't care who I learn from, as long as I'm learning. If I lose my mind, I think I'll refer my daughter Mary over to her blog.

What happens between coffee and Triskits and cheese

2008-12-03T12:57:00.012-06:00

The New Year is official here and it has been a while since I've blogged about anything, what with my pre-Christmas freakout and post-Christmas recovery time in West Texas. Since http://www.paintedgroove.blogspot.com/ is supposed to be about decorative painting, from time to time I realize it's been a while since I blogged about anything creative. Doesn't Christmas just suck the life out of you?

I'm working on getting my creative groove back in groove mode and it helps that everyone is back in school and back at work. But here's what I got to work on leading up to the holidays. I sure have a lot to be thankful for. Imagine all the people telemarketing and making bosses look good out there. If that's your thing, God love ya. I prefer to make my clients' stuff look good, drink coffee, a little water, eat some Triskits and cheese, and then have a glass of wine.

The walls in this powder bath I am nominating as my Number 1 best job of 2008. Please disregard the annoying photo stamp on the picture. How annoying. I made an effort to eliminate that annoying thing from the camera during my vacation.

Here's another shot. Now these photos in no way do justice to the yumminess of these walls. (Figuring out how to capture faux painting in pictures is my goal for 2009.) So these walls are a warm terra cotta color, Venetian plaster, all buffed out and waxed. When you walk into the room you are compelled to reach out and touch them. The color of the walls works perfectly with the orangy color in the Talavera sink.

OK, this was really fun. Do you see the pretty gold and red tones in this slate? Well, originally, they were not there! Selecting slate is so risky because you never know what you're going to get, what the installer will pull from, etc. My client felt the too-gray slate was killing the gorgeous granite below! I originally thought, "oh please, how can you be so picky?" But when I saw it installed in the job, I agreed and fixed it. Don't I have the coolest job in the world?

I actually get to paint slate for a living!

When I was working on this job and had on clean clothes, it was really hard to pry myself out of this chair below. I love, love, love this big old fabulous chair. It's a little too westerny for my house but it's perfect in this ranch house setting. The fabric on the arms and back is some sort of delicious velvet that is really soft and casual (if velvet can be casual). You can see subtle antiquing on the walls in the background. (Soon to be obscured by deer heads).

I could probably sit on this comfy sofa for about a week if someone would just keep bringing me wine and coffee, and maybe some Triskits and cheese in between.

This home is new construction, on a deer ranch. So right now it's looking a little fresh from the furniture store but that's all going to work itself out as the totally cool family that lives here makes their mark and keeps on putting their personal stamp on the place. And I was also thinking if it was my house, I would turn my kids loose in here to warm it up and wear it out and make it look a bit more lived in. After the holidays and deer season, this family has probably already accomplished all that.

So here's to 2009. Informal polling among Smart People Who Sami Knows and Saw Over the Holidays forecasts a much better year than 2008. To a person, all my smart friends were glad 2008 was over and are looking forward to rerides in 2009.

Peace & Love all over the place

2008-11-28T15:34:00.002-06:00

There was peace and love just coming out our ears. Seriously. Yesterday, Thanksgiving, was a wonderful day. It could have gone horribly wrong, but it didn't. I was really happy.

First of all, I don't care how old you are, divorce in a family is going to screw things up. I'm sure there are some parents that need to be gotten rid of, but in my case, it's been terribly inconvenient for me and my siblings. Divorce fractures relationships, divides families at holidays, and otherwise just leaves somebody out in the cold, no matter what. Except for yesterday when our humble gathering included the following:

My biological mother. My biological father. My stepfather I call Dad. My sister from my Mom and Dad (Stepdad) who was adopted and is a Sioux Indian. Three half brothers, two of their wives and one new girlfriend (Miss Alaska). Two nieces from my brother's first marriage. Two nieces whose parents are still married and one cute little three-year-old nephew who was driving his harried mother crazy. We couldn't understand why, he seemed perfectly normal to us.

Then my husband, who was raised in a very normal, All-American home with two married parents had his Mom and Dad here, plus his 90-year-old grandmother, and a his uncle Wayne, who is blind. Oh, and then there were our kids: Mary, from my first marriage, and Catherine and Caroline from my current and last marriage.

While all this was going on I was texting with my former husband's current wife who I went to high school with about Mary going to visit them and the arrangements for that since he is very ill and not doing well at all. I had to keep making stops in between to say a prayer for the poor guy. We have a lot to be thankful for this year, starting with that he's even alive. We also have to be thankful for the fact that if the two of us were talking and texting, it's proof that God is alive and at work in our big old extended dysfunctional family.

So today my other brother Clay came to see Dad, who's visiting from Arizona, and brought his precious one-year-old little boy named Pius, and his other son, who is actually from his wife Heidi's first marriage. Does anyone have a headache?

Amazingly, everybody got along just fine. A good time was had by all. The best thing about it all is that all my parents were in the same place at the same time for the first time since our wedding. And I didn't feel stretched or fractured. I wasn't even stressed. What a blessing.

2008-11-23T21:38:00.004-06:00

We were driving down South Alamo Street in San Antonio the other day when I noticed this grand house for the first time. It must be the new paint job that did it because my eyes had never beamed in on it before. Apparently it is a bed and breakfast, in the heart of the King William district. "Wait!" I shrieked. "Did you see that house?"

Ryan had not noticed it, because he doesn't care about paint colors and, to be fair, it was almost dark. "Oh my gosh!" I said. "That house color combination was fabulous. Maybe we need to paint the Marathon house like that," I continued in that rapid-fire, wheels turning a thousand miles an hour way that I do when I get all flitterbated about something exciting, like paint.

"I thought we had already decided what to paint the Marathon house," Ryan said. Poor thing, he thought this subject was behind him. What he doesn't realize is until it's painted, the decision is never final. And, really, that's what I love about paint. It's never permanent. It's always changeable. I wonder what that says about me, from a psychological standpoint?

Anyway, I need your help. Do you like it? Do you hate it? Here's another view of the house that cranked my head:

I just love the crisp white against the warm tan, and the black sets it all off so nicely. Is it too formal for the Marathon setting?

Here's a picture of the dingy outside of our humble home in Marathon. It really needs some help:

This is how it looked the day we went to do the inspection. The evaporative cooler is out of the window and it has a new tin roof. The storm screen doors are off. And there are a few plants trying to grow in the yard. But other than that, it's still aching for some curb appeal. A new porch is planned to jazz up the front entry, and a little overhang is going over the back door, but those will have to wait until people can qualify for home mortgages again. (Shameless plug: www.accessmortgageplanners.com.)

The former option for this quaint little West Texas diamond in the rough was Sherwin Williams Crater Gray, which Ryan loves. I love the color, too, It's a gray/green/bluey color and quite masculine and cool. We first saw it on a beautiful house in Castroville. The difference that gives me pause is the Castrovile house sits in the shade, surrounded by beautiful green trees. This house sits out in the arid plains, set against tan, dry desert mountains. I do not want it to stick out like a turd in a punch bowl, as someone really influential in my life named Bob used to say and probably still does.

So what do you think? If you're one of those sneaky people who reads this blog and doesn't comment, please break that trend today and tell me what you really think!

It's official: I am crazy

2008-11-14T21:36:00.007-06:00

I told my husband today I couldn't decide what I wanted to do. Part of me wanted to have a big Thanksgiving dinner and invite all our mish-mash of family from all sides. It's so fun, and welcoming and fills us with peace and love.

Another part of me said that was crazy and we have no business inviting everyone over here for Thanksgiving: We should just go to someone else's house. Then, when we're sick of all the dysfunction and peace and love, we can just go home to our own dysfunction, peace and love.

And then there was another part of me that said I don't even want to be anywhere around so let's flee for the hills like we did last year. Last Thanksgiving was magical. We fled to West Texas and IT SNOWED!

So this year when I dared to bring it up, my darling husband declared I must be suffering from multiple personality disorder, or something. Later this afternoon we caved and decided to throw a big bash at our house. One of my brothers is hosting his new girlfriend we like to call Miss Alaska, and he needs somewhere respectable to bring her to introduce her to the family, after all.

Just like every holiday, everyone will offer to bring something. And then I'll fret that we'll run out of food, which we actually did one Easter. I was horrified, given that I come from a long line of cooks and eaters who take great pride in cooking delicious food in copious quantities. We strive to create the best dish everyone raves about on any given holiday. But in recent years, I have discovered not every family is like mine, which can be good and bad, depending on how you look at it.

In recent years, I swear I have eaten fake mashed potatoes on Christmas (Jesus would not be happy about this, I know) and one year at Easter, someone brought a dozen boiled eggs, undecorated, with some chips. I promptly made deviled eggs, in a feeble attempt to fill everybody up.

It occurs to me that not everybody views a holiday gathering like my family does. Average, normal people don't realize you need to cook 10 pounds of potatoes or 5 pounds of green beans even though you're only one person. They don't know you can't bring a two-person serving to a 30-person gathering, or one dish if you've got five, big-eating kids.

Then there was the year everybody brought their dishes stone-cold and were all vying for stove and microwave space while patient old people and kids sat around, glassy-eyed and starving. Good times. The next year we employed subtle suggestions to at least bring the food at room temperature or in a crock pot or warmer. My father-in-law, who is the most precious man ever, always arrives just in the nick of time, takes over the kitchen and makes gravy. I've learned to just glide on outside for pre-dinner glass of wine.

How can people look at the same issue and see it so completely differently? It's baffling. I've thought about this a lot in the past few months, during the past election, when millions of voters did not share my insightful view. How can I be so right and they're just so blatantly, blindly wrong ? And how can they think the same thing about me when I'm so obviously right?

And then there was the time when I lovingly interjected there would be 30 people at the Thanksgiving gathering. And the invitee replied "well the recipe makes a 9x13 pan." End of discussion.

All of it is just fascinating. And here we go again.

I miss my girls

2008-11-05T21:29:00.006-06:00

I'm away from home again this week, being a rock star faux painter and missing my girls at home. This job entails texturing over old wallpaper, new base coat, and then two coats of Faux Effects' Lusterstone in Brown Suede and Champagne Mist in a master bath. The base coat is SW Nomadic Desert so it's all real neutral and peaceful and warm. And then there's a water closet upstairs that's going to get some new texture, a fix for the sheetrock and then some faux glazing over the top.

Before you think this all sounds real glamorous, let me stress my life on the road is far from fabulous. I don't set out to work all over the state, it just happened that I have some out-of-town assignments all jumbled up on top of each other. Last week I was out on a ranch in Dilley. This week it's Houston. I'm so tired I feel more like the traveling roofers that are sharing this less-than-glamorous Comfort Inn with me. Boy have I become spoiled. This hotel is just not doing it for me. I much prefer the Omni but their weekday rate is $359 "for business travelers." That rate must be for "business travelers" who aren't "in business" for themselves.

Anyway, I thought I would share some pictures of my gorgeous girls that I am missing so much. Here's a picture of Mary. She is 13 and loves taking pictures of herself. She's the light of my life on every day except those days when she's really living out that she's 13 and I'm whining that "she used to be the light of my life."

She can take some artsy photos, don't you think?

Here's a picture of Caroline. She's four years old. My sister-in-law Sallie took this picture at the Guadalupe County Fair & Rodeo when I was out of town retreating in West Texas. Notice the Flashdance, off-the-shoulder t-shirt she's wearing, along with her famous attitude. I did say I was out of town, so you can attribute this outfit to Daddy.

When I've been out of town for a few days, I even miss that attitude.

And finally, here's my little Catherine. These are older pictures, but they're my favorites because they totally "capture" her thoughtful side. I love her deep-thinking nature, and that she'll wear pearls and take her poodle to church.

Could our twins be any more different? Catherine is so girly girl. I took the picture below at her second birthday party. That's just about the time her hair really began to grow.

Everyone marvels over Caroline's blue eyes, but I think Catherine's are exceptional.

I took this picture below on the first day of dance this year. They just started their second year of Hermann Sons Dance and this year they love it. Don't they look like big girls?

This photo marks the first day Caroline agreed to let me put her hair up without a fight. I just love this picture because you can see that Catherine is so take-charge and has such a sassy walk.

I can't wait to get home tomorrow and snuggle them up.

You like me? You really like me.

2008-11-02T21:21:00.004-06:00

Wow. I finally got some sort of blogger award. I really feel unworthy, seeing as how I haven't been able to blog much lately and when I do I need to be reminded to blog about what I'm supposed to be blogging about (thanks, Paige, for keeping me on task). I must say I can accept the Perfect Blend of Friendship Award much more easily than the BFF Gold Card. I'll tell you a little bit more about that later. But first, let me thank Lavenderchick for nominating me. My heart is so big (an inside joke related to something Lavenderchick herself said way back in about 1990. I think it was in Mexico and tequila was to blame. You know, as I recall. If I knew how to work my scanner, I would scan the picture of her saying it. The scary thing is I have the picture.)

Do you have the same friends since childhood?

Yes, thank God! What's funny is some of them have come and gone and we've done other things -- been single, married, divorced, single again, married, had kids and careers and cats and dogs -- but there is a comfortability (if that's a word) that I couldn't bear to lose. I find great comfort in the fact that Debi, Paige, Lisa, Dara and Kim know what I'm talking about without me having to explain it. They know the difference between a Hut Coke and a Sonic Coke. They know where my heart is even if what I am saying is outrageous. It's just easier. And, we generally find the same things funny and understand the background behind the rant.

Are your friends sounding boards?

What would we do without our girlfriends? Mine most certainly have stepped in to provide an auxiliary brain when I have been beyond thinking clearly. And they step in to pick up my basket when I drop it. Still, I must say my most frequent and dependable sounding board is my husband Ryan, who actually will patiently play along and answer when I annoyingly ask the question, "what should I do?"

What is your favorite activity to share with friends?

Talking, exploring, and pondering life with an occasional glass of wine or a good cup of coffee.

This is where I get to brag on my new friends. When you have so many old friends from the old days in West Texas, it's hard to imagine that new friends can match up. I have been proven wrong on this one and my new friends (you know who you are) have added to my life in ways I never could have figured.

OK, so more about the BFF Gold Card. This award doesn't appear to have any questions with it. I really must say I don't deserve this award because I haven't always been the best friend or person in the world, but my friend Deb is a great person to send it my way anyway because she's a loving, forgiving and overlooking friend. It must be because she's a middle child.

The scariest thing I've ever seen -- in the daylight

2008-10-29T12:25:00.002-05:00

It was a brisk Minnesota morning, a few days shy of Halloween. I didn't expect to be frightened. I just needed some exercise and wanted to enjoy the beautiful fall foliage, cool temperatures after a few days cooped up in an airplane, airport and hospital room. And then I saw it:

AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! OMG! Could it be true?

And that's my scary Halloween story for 2008.

Life's a .......

2008-09-17T22:35:00.006-05:00

Back in the day, we used to say, "life's a bitch. Then you die." I'm not quite so negative these days. I've matured, thank goodness.

These days, we have so much to be thankful for. We're well. We have electricity. My husband and I are putting some distance between ourselves and work and other looming obligations to rest and recharge this weekend. West Texas is calling me.

See what I mean? I'll be looking at this tomorrow night. A nice, neighborly goat may happen by to visit while I sit on my porch.

While life is so good for me, I just can't get thoughts of those less fortunate out of my mind. My best friend's Uncle Bo died this week in a plane crash in West Texas while surveying flooding on the Rio Grande from the air. The Texas Gulf Coast is in serious distress. My brother and his kids can't go home to Beaumont. The markets are a mess. Two very important people in my past life have really scary cancer. I wonder whether that beautiful Galveston beach house that Joni of Cote de Texas blogged about earlier this summer even exits anymore.

I can really see myself sitting in this chaise, reading a book. You know, in another life.

The really simple and realistic girl in me loved this house from the Joni's post. I could see myself lurking on this porch, incognito, watching tourists meander by. I wonder how it fared when Ike attacked?

We don't get to pick the trials that make us stronger and form us into really tough old ladies who retain their good manners, snazzy good looks and charm. I guess if there' s any lesson to learn, that's it.

The bathroom wall I'm currently in love with

2008-09-08T19:06:00.006-05:00

My most favorite recent faux application -- lucky for me -- is in my very own bathroom. Philosophically, I'm really not into making something look like something else, which I guess what faux painting is supposed to be, after all. For some reason it makes me think of something my grandmother used to say: "You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear."

While Mama was referring to "common" people without breeding or good manners, she hadn't yet seen some of things we can do nowadays with good painting materials and plain old sheetrock walls. Please let me whisper that our family can only claim manners, alas. And some of us don't do so well with those either.

Anyway, back to my favorite wall. Its basecoat is Sherwin Williams Blonde, which is a pretty great color in a light-filled house. I can be a little muddy in a dark little room without much natural light. Then, I used Faux Effects Lusterstone colors Antique Parchment, Silver Moss and Charred Gold. But my favorite part is the white, which is Faux Effects Fauxstone Pull-Off. That's my favorite product ever.

Sorry. This photo is a little blurry because I was trying to take the photo without a flash, in natural light. Still, you can get the idea.

I really love how how the Antique Parchment catches the light and looks gold. I did a similar application in a house on Treasure Island, in the middle of Lake McQueeney. Remember this?

This is the house with the sexy sink. I didn't do a very good job taking this photo and it looks a little blotchy, which it didn't in real life.

Now I need to go see about being a faux mother and cooking some real dinner.

Too many adjectives

2008-09-04T23:09:00.004-05:00

For the love of God, could we stop with the labels, the excessive adjectives? If I hear Sarah Palin's little baby Trig referred to as "the Down Syndrome Baby" one more time, I might go mad. It's just rude. Were we not raised better than that? I grew up in Texas, mostly, and we like to think we have manners. Some of us spit and cuss, but we like to say things like "bless her heart" and not mention the obvious -- until later.

Are you wondering from where this rant comes? Listen, you won't hear me or any of my girlfriends say, "Oh yeah, I'll bring Susie, Little Bobby and my Ugly Daughter over to swim on Saturday." When we're talking about our neighbors, we don't say, "Oh, yes, she and her husband have three kids, two cute and normal ones, and one with buck teeth and diabetes."

It's just despicable. And disrespectful. Trig is a baby. A sweet little four-month-old baby. And despite whether you think Sarah Palin should have avoided his birth or not (God help you) , he's a baby. He is one of God's children and he deserves to be referred to as such.

In my experience, only cool and special people who can handle it are gifted with "different," "special," "challenged" and "not-quite-right" kids. And that's all I have to say about that.

OK, OK, enough already

2008-08-27T09:59:00.006-05:00

Lavenderchick grew weary with my procrastination so I finally decided to rebel against my perfectionism and just take a few pictures of the bar I have been writing about for months now. This is the bar that makes my Modelo so happy.

Here is the top. All these images were cut out of a planner book Mr. Kevin gave me for my birthday about 10 years ago. And then my super new neighbor Lauren had a book of Mexican folk art and advertising images that she sacrificed for the projecto.

It was really fun and easy and so if you'd like to make one of these happy places to sit and solve the problems of the world, here's all you need:

1. Friend who is raising money for a vacation and wants to unload their ugly bar on you, "because I know you can do something cute with it."

2. Motivation to do something fabulous with ugly bar because you'll never hear the end of it from your husband and brother who had to help you move it. And really, it's destroying your chi just sitting around in your garage it's so ugly. See:

3. Smart and creative neighbor who is interested in helping you "create" in a steaming hot garage.

4. At least one bottle of red wine.

5. Maybe a few beers for when you get thirsty.

6. A chance bottle of Modge Podge you don't know why you have.

7. Scissors

8. Leftover paint in fun and funky colors.

9. Palm fronds you just happened to have trimmed off your palm trees that you can rescue from the compost pile. If you don't have any, call me. I have a little more trimming to do.

10. Staple gun, any do-it-yourselfer woman's best friend.

11. Great new lime green spray paint from Home Depot for bar stools. They've sure have come a long way with spray paint colors, havent' they?

12. Briwax or gel stain to age and/or "antique" it all. It needs to look like it's been salvaged from Francisco's Bar in Boquillas.

So there you go. That's the bar I've been raving about. We had such fun putting it together. And the sad part is we haven't had much time since to belly up to it. But we will.

2008-08-22T22:10:00.003-05:00

I have been like a woman without a country, a cordless phone without a base.

A month or more ago, my old hand-me-down laptop died. It was helped along by a crazed, my-spacing 13-year-old and two manic monkey four-year-olds, at least according to the 13-year-old, who blamed it all on her younger sisters. Anyway, I was without a computer at home. I contemplated what kind of spiffy new laptop I would order for myself. My darling husband, ever loving and oh-so generous, sent up a trial balloon that he might get a new one for himself and give me his current, burned up laptop. You can imagine how well that idea went over, especially since it was his old broken-down laptop that had up and died on me in the first place. He slinked off to dream up other great ideas, tail tucked between his legs.

And then I didn't have a desk at home. I had moved my home office to the office, before I couldn't take working there anymore and fired myself. So you can imagine how productive I have been and it's been driving productive me crazy.

Tonight all that changed. I couldn't decide what kind of laptop to get so I just brought my computer from the office home. I brought a desk too. And then next week I'm going to go get all my note cards, postage, pens and files. My stuff. So I can be a person. A productive person with stuff.

And did I mention that my oh-so generous hubby did actually buy me a fancy fax/scanner/copy machine? It was new, and he just took it out of the box. My new plan is to learn how to scan.

At this point you must be wondering, what the heck is that hideous looking piece of furniture at the top of the blog. Well, it's the beginnings of the bar that Lauren and I transformed one Sunday afternoon in a manic episode. I've been promising to take pictures of the finished product and share them with the world, but I keep procrastinating because the vignette is not yet complete. I'm busy and I haven't had a desk. And a few other excuses I won't bore you with.

Have you ever seen such hideous pleather? Rest assured it's rotting away in a landfill right now.

In praise of red

2008-08-09T11:34:00.004-05:00

Red has always been my favorite color. Sometimes I'll wander away from it, but I always come back. My first room of my own in Minnesota I designed in orange, yellow and green, a combination of stipes and floral wallpapers. I'm sure subsequent homeowners stripped it right off immediately.

Then in Alpine, I went through a blue phase. I'll always remember both my parents helping me with that and allowing me to do my creative thing is planning that room. Then there were the bubblegum pink twin beds I painted for me and Debi's one-bedroom apartment in San Angelo. ("Hey Debi, how's San Angeloooooo?") Just thinking of that place can keep me giggling for days.

Somehow I've never really decorated with red. But get a load of this kitchen.

My only role on this job was trying to fix what had been done by someone else they mistakenly let paint and "antique" the cabinets. The paint scuffed everytime you touched it and they not only have two big teenager kids but also a huge, ferocious dog that barked and growled at me (while I was trying to be in my groove ...)

These cabinets are now luxuriously beautiful if you ask me. My antiquing process sealed in the paint, whatever it was and whatever its problem was. Who could say? That painter flew the coop.

Here the paint looks a little orange, but it's really just my flash washing it out. I love the use of drawers under the stovetop. People just don't usually have enough drawers in a kitchen. Lower cabinets, if they don't have pull-outs, are just a hassle.

The lesson here -- painted cabinets are just cool. And see how much more beautiful and fun they can be when they are red? Mine are the color of cardboard but they have been done with this same technique.

I am helping a builder friend pick some colors for a spec house -- that really cool one on the lake Lavenderchick told you about. I asked about cabinets and they told me: "We'll probably do a stained, oak cabinet ...."

When I got together with the interior decorators they use for selects, we promptly vetoed that bad, bad idea right away. Not in a lake house. Not with travertine. As my daughter Mary would say, "it's just not correct."

Call it a breakdown in communication

2008-08-05T09:05:00.007-05:00

There was a terrible breakdown in communication. It's pretty common in our house, but when Paw Paw arrived at the twins' birthday party with a puppy, all I could utter was "Oh noooooo! There's been a terrible breakdown in communication!" My husband shot me that look. You know the one.

"What," Paw Paw asked increduously. "The girls wanted a puppy. You didn't tell me you already got one."

"Well you said you were going to Wal-Mart to get their presents," I exclaimed back. "You always get them gift cards!" I was beginning to freak.

"I was going to Walmart ... to get the dog!" Paw Paw answered heatedly back. There was nothing we could do at that point. We just had to make the best of it. I suppose since I had twins I have to do everything in twos.

So the girls got a little brown chihuahua to name Bambi like they wanted all along, ever since the Puppy Parade when Caroline cried the whole time.

Isn't she seriously cute?

She was about as big as a hamster. Smaller than a guinea pig for sure. Too young to have been sold, straight off the puppy mill. I like to think we rescued her from a horrible life. Technically she is Shih Tsu and Chihuahua. She's what we call a Designer Dog.

Here's Rooster with his baby sister. She makes him look like a Big Boy. He loves her so much. But he does like to pounce on her and roll her around like a bouncy ball.

OK, enough of this. I swear I have fascinating decorative painting pics to share. I haven't given it all up for puppy raising.

Oh and one more thing. Guess what the big lesson was, as I struggled to make it through those first two tragic weeks of puppy crate/potty training?

I do have enough love to go around. My new key word, which I should get tatooed somewhere important, is .... perseverance.

It's a face only a mother could love

2008-07-11T15:29:00.008-05:00

Meet Rooster. He's got a face only a mother could love. Bulging eyes, and shiny black hair the same color as his eyes. When he raises his ears he looks like the chupacabra. Oh, but do we love this little guy.

It all started with Caroline. She loves dogs and likes to plan parties in her mind. She loves to tell you about the party, the food she's planning and the guest list. Emma, Emily and Baby Caroline, plus Slick, Rusty and Chula are invited to every party and barbecue. If you didn't know these dogs you would think her little preschool friends have some pretty strange names. In April, Paige, Lauren and I took a collection of kids to the Fiesta Pooch Parade. I thought it would rock Caroline's world since she loves dogs so much. Nope. She was completely traumatized.

This little guy walking by the girls was sporting a mini sombrero.

Paige and I especially liked this family of real-life wiener dogs.

Catherine & Chloe weren't bothered at all by the endless parade.

Caroline, on the other hand, cried "I want a baby puppy, Momma, I want a baby puppy" for about an hour and a half, and part of the way home. Lauren advised me to "distract and redirect" but I couldn't figure out how to do it as the "baby puppies" just kept on coming.

That day, Caroline became determined she had to have a "brown chihuahua with a pink dress." I was happy because my most favorite dog ever was Weeni Banana, a chihuahua whose mother came tearing around the corner and bit my ankle when I went to pick her out. The most amazing thing about Weeni was that she was an extremely good judge of character and could eat sunflower seeds by cracking the shell, extracting the seed, and discarding the shells into a little pile on the car seat during long drives through West Texas. If Weeni ever growled at anyone, and showed her little teeth, they always turned out to be a real deadbeat loser. She did a lot of growling during those Odessa days.

Getting back to this story, when Rooster showed up black and without the pink dress, Caroline didn't give it a second thought. We work hard to steer clear of racism in our house, toward dogs or anybody else. Caroline still wants to get Rooster a pink dress, and Catherine seriously wanted to name him Princess. We delicately explained Princess was just not the name for the only other boy in the family besides Daddy.

When he eats all his dinner, Ryan says he looks like a pot-bellied pig.

As for my creative career, I promise to get busy and show you the ever-s0-clever project that really should have been an HGTV gone wrong episode. Have you ever wondered why the women on HGTV transforming an entire house with a $50 budget don't ever show their wine glasses? I guess that's why Lauren and I don't have our own show yet.

My Modelo with lime will be so happy

2008-06-30T16:34:00.005-05:00

Unfortunately, one thing I've never been called is a tease. In this case, however, I cannot help myself. You just have to see what my next door neighbor Lauren and I created in my sweltering garage yesterday. We certainly felt incredibly clever. I am so fortunate to have a new neighbor with a creative brain. The ideas were flying and the results are going to be delightful!

I don't have a picture of our creation yet because the masterpiece is not yet complete. Let's just say it has to do with outdoor living, Mexico, palm fronds, and lots of paint in turquoise and green. It's so fun and fabulous I can hardly stand it. I promise to share a picture just as soon as I can get it fully assembled.

Until then, consider me a horrible tease.

This little piggy went to the church nursery...

2008-06-24T16:40:00.004-05:00

Sometimes I just have to blog about things that make me happy. And this picture definitely did the job. Catherine is my little piggy on the right and Caroline is smiling on the left, through the glass of the church nursery window.

I need frequent reminders to help me keep life in perspective. While some of my friends are battling serious illnesses, my family is healthy and happy and my little girls are having a blast just being almost four years old. It is as simple as that.

Will I drop my proverbial basket this year as their fourth birthday approaches like I did when they turned one, realizing it's been four years of chaos? I don't think so. I'm feeling on top of the hump. Life is good. And we have soooo much to be thankful for. Such as, this picture and the freedom and joy that allowed it.

Viva Mexico! Viva Laredo!

2008-06-19T21:29:00.009-05:00

It had been four years since we broke up, me and Laredo. When I owned McQueeney Market, I traveled to Laredo for inventory at least once a month. When I became pregnant with my little girls, Catherine & Caroline, I knew my days in retail were over and we closed McQueeney Market. It was the coolest store, only one year old, and it had such potential. Great location, crappy building. I loved it and hated it. I could go on and on, but let's just say the timing wasn't right and it was "best" that McQueeney Market fade away so I could focus my energies on more important things, like my twin girls.

Since I love Mexico, I love Laredo because they're pretty much the same. By now it must be common knowledge that there is much to my old life that I mourn. In my new life there is much to celebrate but it requires that a lot of me is sacrificed. Before we all reach for a Kleenex, let's just say me and Laredo have missed each other.

Wendy called on Tuesday and suggested we go to Laredo on Wednesday morning, early. We had been trying to plan a trip for months. This trip was a lot like whooping it up on a Sunday afternoon. It's just so much more fun than planning every detail of a Saturday night -- and being disappointed.

We started our shopping adventure at Vega's on San Bernardo and I snapped a few pictures before I noticed the sign that said no cameras are allowed. It seems pretty silly to me, so I even asked how was I supposed to share their fabulous wares with my friends and clients (not to mention the world, in my blog) if I couldn't snap a picture or two.

I loved these cool agaves crafted from tin.

This darling chair had soft cushions covered in an outdoor-safe fabric in a pretty lemony yellow/green. We loved them and they were on sale for only $149. While I was soon informed cameras were not allowed, I love Vega's so much that I'm not even going to hold it against them.

From there we ate some lunch which was average. We live near San Antonio, in Seguin, you know, so we pretty much know our Mexican. We wanted to stop at the Lazy Mex bar but it wasn't open. We thought the name was rather racist in tone and wondered what it would be like to have a bar named Lazy White Guy.

We then ventured on to other stores for iron and such. Here's a couple of sneak peaks at stuff I liked, that was a little above average Mexican import junk. Wendy spied this little rabbit right away and I wished that I could get one too, but I was the navigator, on a scouting mission, and otherwise lacking in funds for whimsical purchases.

When she also bought an armadillo and I had my eye on a javelina and an iron weenie dog, I told her we were in danger of becoming "old ladies with yard art."

I had not seen anything like this lantern/sconce anywhere and I loved it. It doesn't come wired but it could be done. Even if it was used only with a candle, it would add instant drama for almost nothing.

I think it's kind of cool that you could sit and spin yarns around the chimenea while the husband is grilling some salmon. I am a multi-tasker from way back.

At Alexander's, Wendy bought two large table bases. She's going them to support a handcrafted mesquite tabletop to seat 10. It's going to look awesome in her home and I can't wait for the dinner. The base below has the round top (for glass) and Wendy's doesn't. Also, Wendy didn't like the ball finials so she had them knocked off. If you knew her you would think that was funny.

Wendy is going to have me "do my thing" on these bases so they're not plain and rusty.

I love the simplicity of these small side tables. They do not scream "Mexico" to me. I am in the market for pots, and huge pots like these are available for next to nothing. Since Laredo and I have been in love, I haven't been able to spend money anywhere else.

We had the best day and it was an especially good field trip for me. Creativity was enhanced and it's always good to have a refresher course that reminds me just who I am and what blows my skirt up. I wondered again just how I could have veered off course for so long but the answer to that question is already known and all too clear. My husband asked me whether I should "revisit McQueeney Market" and I haven't been able to get the idea out of my head ever since. There's so much to contemplate. Potential locations, labor and the lack thereof. Whether it's a good idea or a tempting disaster. All I know is that if I do it again, I'll do it differently, with more planning and prayer. And that's certainly a good improvement over the old me.

Girl talk, kolaches, antiques & a wedding

2008-05-27T21:56:00.011-05:00

One of my cousins got married in Houston a few weeks ago and my Mom and I decided to make it a mom-and-daughter quality time trip so we could finish a few conversations we had been trying to have for the last three and a half years. We got so much talking accomplished in such record time that by Schulenburg we ran out of things to talk about so we stopped for a kolache. It was almost as fun as stopping for a "cup of coffee and a piece of pie" like my Mama always liked to do.

We struck out early Saturday morning, armed with a list of must-see shops recommended by Joni on her Cote de Texas blog. We were inside Loop 610 and on Dunlavy by the time shops were opening at 10 a.m. First thing, I fell in love with these lamps at Boxwood. They would be perfect in our bedroom because the ceilings are so high and everything always seems so out of scale when anywhere else it would be fine. Actually, I fell in love with quite a bit in that store.

See what I mean? I love it when I find something as clever as this fabulous chair. If I was to buy this chair, it would make me happy every time I walked by it. It's hell having La Crema taste on a St. Genevieve budget.

In the same shopping strip is The Country Gentleman (3829 Dunlavy), where I spied this yummy little green chest. The owner there, Larry Bahn, is delightful and the store is crammed full with fabulous antiques from all over the world. If you love religious artifacts and statues and crucifixes like my little old Catholic self, you will love his shop.

This corner piece was so fabulous. I think someone I know needs to buy this for her new house.

Back at Boxwood, I loved these glass apothecary jars and this rustic brown cocktail table. If anyone is interested, I know a crusty old Kingsbury craftsman who could make this for you, so strong you could dance on it.

As luck would have it, my camera battery crapped out and I had to run next door to the Fiesta Food Mart to buy a disposable camera before I could venture on to Antiques and Interiors on Dunlavy. So you'll just have to wait until I get the pictures back like we did in the old days. As a consolation, just take a look at these two little cuties:

Our spiral staircase freaks out a lot of people. We installed a baby gate at the top, but once C&C got reasonably steady on their feet we figured it was safer to teach them to maneuver it. So far the only ones to almost break their necks have been much older (say for instance me).

Disturbingly visible

2008-05-21T10:41:00.005-05:00

My brain is really cooking today. I can't do anything but paint, and think. While I wait for my last coat to dry on a triptych I am painting, I decided to bounce around my fave blogs. I just had to write that. A triptych: did I even spell it right?

I realize this is confusing so try to follow along. Lavenderchick turned me on to the Hill Country House blog, which I love and will now visit every single day. In her latest post, Hill Country House Girl laments that the homes featured in the latest issue of Veranda haven't blown her skirt up as usual because they seem to lack personality. They're beautifully designed, but does anyone actually live there? She mentions Habitually Chic's post about Rose Tarlow, a designer and author of "The Private House." I haven't read it yet but I'm going to order it as soon as possible.

In that book, Rose writes: "There are those who spend lifetimes in houses that have nothing to do with who they really are. They may be perfectly designed, yet if they fail to reflect the personalities of the people who live in them, the very essence of intimacy is missing, and this absence is disturbingly visible."

I could not agree with that more. But I say the lack of intimacy that is missing in the house is missing in the person. In fact, maybe the house does reflect who they are. It's obvious in beautifully designed homes in fancy magazines and it's obvious among normal people that you and I know. A very smart friend and I were talking about this same thing just yesterday.

The flashy McMansion looks good, every square inch is decorated from some dumb store, with some design element: the last sale at Hobby Lobby, a stop by Kirkland's, that trip to Laredo, a late night of shopping online. It doesn't matter how bad, how cheap, or how expensive and well thought out, you can spot the lack of imagination, lack of personality and yes, a lack of intimacy that is disturbingly obvious. These houses have that model home or Parade of Homes feel and you wonder how do real people live here?

Other homes have such great energy and it's because of the people who live there. Their homes reflect their passions, their tastes, their travels, even, shockingly, their kids.

And here's where my theory gets really interesting. When these smart women mention an absence of intimacy, I agree, but I would add we're also seeing an absence of God that is disturbingly visible both in the home and in the person. It's all connected.

The home lacks soul and the person lacks God.

Ultimately the McMansion and everything we fill it with doesn't satisfy. The husband (or wife) can't make us happy and meet all our needs. Nothing we search for fills the empty hole. There's really only one thing that can fill it and if it's disturbingly absent, it's disturbingly visible.

And that's my witnessing for today.

From drab to glam: The lesson comes in the strangest of places

2008-05-20T16:29:00.007-05:00

Once they go faux they never go back, at least that's what I'm finding out. Since last fall I've been working my way around this grand house on a beautiful lake near Seguin. I first blogged about it last fall in "why my neck hurts."

To refresh your memory, here's a few pictures:

In the kitchen just off the glam great room where these ceilings reign is this poor little white island. We can't have that now, can we?

This is the really cool light fixture over the island. When the lights are turned off they look black. But when you turn on the lights, voila! So you can see my client needed a little red in this kitchen.

Here you go: from drab to glam. This picture doesn't show that the red actually has an antiquing stain over it. And there are little distressed edges as well. But not so much as to appear country.

I went over there today to discuss a few more little projects, and now my client is considering a red quartz countertop just on the island. It's a perfect match for the Metallic Red Setcoat I used. That's certainly going to be kind of sexy in the kitchen, don't you think?

Here's the thing I love today about my life. I get to meet the most amazing, wide-ranging people. Usually, each one of them adds some sort of wisdom or knowledge to my life. I never know when it's going to happen or what they're going to say that impacts me but it generally always happens. Maybe it's because I'm paying attention and want to learn from people who I assume have something to offer.

The fabulous woman who owns this house worked hard all her life. She had a job before and after she married. At one point in her life when she "got sick of corporate America," she decided it would be fun to sell cars. Don't you just love her already? Anyway, her husband worked himself to death and she lost him suddenly. She told me one day when I was working in her home that she bought this house so maybe she can have a little fun and relax a little bit
"before she kicks the bucket."

And I think that's something we can all learn from.

Back on Task

2008-05-09T15:45:00.003-05:00

Remember the little potting shed I painted for a powder bath. The sink was to be a bucket and the faucet a pump. Well there it is, installed. My client Susan certainly is clever, isn't she?

Sadly the walls in that powder room are still builder beige, but I have plans to transform them one day....

Here's the finished result of a brand-new cabinet that the painters mistakenly painted white. This cabinet was constructed to hold a Mega TV on top and other electronics behind the center doors, which will have glass. It was a brand new piece, but she didn't want it to look new. The top is Faux Effects' Venetian Gem in Tiger Eye. You can't see it very clearly in this picture but the front face has a very subtle stencil design that is raised over a background of Venetian Gem in Sage Green, which looks more blue than green if you ask me.

The insets on the drawers are the same Tiger Eye. Someday they'll probably feature hardware but my client is one of those thoughtful people who likes to live with pieces before deciding what they need.

Here's a closeup:
Once they move into their wonderful home in the country, I hope to be able to take some photos showing the rooms all set up. This TV cabinet is going to live to the right of a grand fireplace.

The Reason I'm Getting Botox

2008-05-08T22:00:00.003-05:00

The fact that I can look like this without even meaning to look like a mean, hagard shrew is enough reason for me to get Botox. I have informed my husband not to dare get me one other gift. I only want cold, hard cash for my Botox.

What's so shocking is that when this photo was snapped by my three-year-old daughter Catherine, I was happy. I was getting to babysit my sweet little niece Piper and was sitting on my porch in paradise. See that crease in the middle of my grouchy forehead? It's permanent. I don't even make it on purpose. And yes, I realize I could use a little lipstick -- again.

Lavenderchick, can I please join you in making this the year of my face? I know you have been sandblasting yours but I think mine needs to be paralyzed into a happy face that appears to be interested. The face above is horrifying.

I promised myself I was not going to dwell on this any longer, but maybe this is why people don't naturally assume immediately upon seeing and/or meeting me that I am warm, loving person. I promise to reveal my warm, loving, nice and interested-looking face as soon as it's paralyzed into existence.

Excuse me while I rant

2008-04-28T17:34:00.003-05:00

Now no one take offense, but I must rant about Mexican furniture, which is being overused in epidemic proportions. It's everywhere. Don't get me wrong. I like it. I own it. But please, please, for the love of God (as Lauren would say), do not fill every room in your home with it.

The reason this came up is one of my wonderful friends and clients is building a ranch house and she needs a ton of furniture. So I have been helping her look for some and she's been looking herself. There are entire stores in San Antonio that can fulfill her every need and blank wall. And it would be really easy to go in and fill up the house at a nice store like The Rustic Gallery or Catrina's at the Ranch or any other "Hill Country," "Rustic," or "Old World" way-overpriced-and built-by-underpaid-and-probably-starving Indians-and/or-Mexicans furniture store. But to do this ranch house justice, and for it to be a reflection of her very cool self, it's going to be so much harder to do what I want her to do: pick and choose really great pieces from all over the place.

In my quest to help her find the first critical piece, something to act as the powder room vanity, this is just a taste of what I've encountered. I know, egads:

Stars are cool and we live in the Lone Star State, but let's just say my eyes are bleeding. Must we have stars on every single thing? I'm surprised I don't see stars stamped on my butter.

These tables below are apparently from India, masquerading as rustic Mexicans.
Not all of it is bad. The Rustic Gallery in San Antonio might suck your very last penny out of your pocket, but it has some very nice pieces. It's just difficult to snag pictures from their website. So to see that I know what I'm talking about, go check out http://www.therusticgallery.com/

I also like http://www.elpasoimportco.com/. They're very PC and don't stick to just Mexico or India. I've seen Polish and Russian stuff in there. Who knew?

This piece below I actually do own. We used it as the bathroom vanity in the Marathon house. It's the perfect height, the perfect width because it took the place of the dwarf's tub and shower (about 48 inches) and it looks really cute with towels rolled up on the shelves. This piece does not offend me, I'm sure you're so glad to know.

I thought this little table below would make a great vanity for the powder room, especially after I jazzed it up a bit. She doesn't have the space for the vanity above. We each had been searching and searching and then one night when my husband woke me up in the middle of the night for no good reason and then I couldn't go back to sleep, I realized that this little piece lonely down in my garage/studio was probably the exact right size. I wanted to go downstairs in the dark to measure it but I waited until the next morning. Sure enough, it was perfect in size.

My client's concern is it doesn't have anything to hide the plumbing. Her builder is one of the best so I'm sure they can figure it out. And, I've never been one to worry about the details. Once I do my thing to transform this little lonely table and then the builder's plumber installs the fabulous sink from http://www.mexicansinkconcepts.com/ onto it, there's no doubt it would be fabulous. Still, a cabinet of some sort would be the best bet.

This armoire is actually pretty. I think it's from The Rustic Gallery:

Here's why I think we need to venture into and then out of the rustic Mexican import stores. I've been to one or two houses on ranches in my life. And in all my travels, large landowners that I have known, in their houses on actual ranches with real live cows and assorted other animals, not one single one has been decorated completely rustic or western for that matter. I double-checked this with Dr. Debi Duke, and she backed me up. What you will see are lovely and well-worn antiques and even primitive pieces from the old days when maybe times weren't quite so good that are being held onto because they're fabulous and remind the home's inhabitants from where the come and what's important, hopefully. And there are feminine touches in these houses because shockingly enough, real, live women live in them.

And there are very nice, traditional pieces that are comfortable and serve a purpose. Then, there will be beautiful western art and it seems right at home there. These homes are not themed like a Parade of Homes house, as in this is our ranch house (yee-haw!) and this is our lake house (welcome to the lake!), and this is our doggy-themed laundry room. Even Elizabeth Taylor redecorated that god-awful house in the movie Giant (after her sister-in-law passed on and she made it clear who was the woman of the home).

Next post will include photos from my scouting trip to Houston, inspired by one of Cote de Texas' blogs.

In Marathon, Life is Good

2008-04-11T21:27:00.003-05:00

the church next door

Just home from a leisurely dinner at the Gage, which would have been perfect if not for the smokers who got seated on the patio next to us. I know it was outdoors, and I really hate to be a smoker nazi ... however their air was mixing with mine. As my dear father always says, there's nothing worse than a reformed smoker and something about a redeemed hooker.

So anyway, if I have a card reader I'll share photos from this most fabulous locale. The weather is wonderful. The air is clear. It wasn't windy today, although Dara said we had horrible wind for the last two days, which completely dried out my sweet little Vitex tree that I'm planning to plant tomorrow. My little vitex looks like my dried out crusty West Texas menopause skin, actually.

Kuhny and I had the most fabulous day driving out here. No rush. Many stops. I read a book to him on the way. He got a ticket for driving 87 miles per hour, which I predicted because I have psychic skills.

Now it's early and in the words of my favorite cousin and the world's second-best mortgage babe Vicky, it's "time to make night-night."

Iron Mountain at dusk

To Update You Before I Run Away

2008-04-10T13:53:00.007-05:00

I'm running away to West Texas this weekend to bask in the peace and love of quiet isolation with my husband sans kids. We're really excited that we'll be able to converse without interruptions and mostly just lounge about. I can hardly wait.

I promised that I would bring you up to date on my recent endeavors so please forgive me if there is no rhyme or reason to this blog. It may be kind of like cleaning out the fridge and calling it dinner.

This is a kitchen island I am currently destroying, I mean transforming. It's going to be antiqued red and black when I'm finished. Mostly black, with just some sexy metallic red peeking through.

Get a load of this dramatic powder room. Isn't that just a special potty? What I like about this bathroom is that the homeowner rediscovered that painting in a guest bedroom or somewhere she never saw it because it was hidden by a door. My clients mother redecorated her bedroom when she was a girl and bought this painting at that time, 30 years ago or so. If I had seen that painting and used it for inspiration it couldn't have been a better match. There's a lot of gold on the walls that you can't really see.

Here's the sexy sink in the powder room. I wish my camera took better pictures of my walls. Trust me that they look better than this. It's a combination of Faux Effects Lusterstone and Faux Stone Pull-off.

OK, this is my top pick for cool powder rooms. First, how could it not be with that absolutely fabulous light fixture? And then, see the very subtle stencil applied in metallic silver ever so often around the room? I may have shown you this before, but I just love it. And it wasn't even my idea, by the way. That's why I'm raving about how cool it is. The subtle use of stencils is one of my current obsessions.

Here's an artsy shot of the light fixture over my dining room table. Too bad my finger found its way into the picture. This was free because it used to be shiny brass and ugly. Not any more. I would like to get some really wild chandelier shades. If you know where I should look, do tell.

And finally, here's a shot of my dear husband leading our sweet little Caroline to the car after my cousin Neal's wedding. Is that not the most beautiful picture? She's got her little bean bag puppy in one hand and her Daddy's hand in the other. We got there somewhat late and had to sit on the back row, where she flirted with her little friend Cade the entire ceremony.

Just to be fair, I'd better show you how beautiful Mary and Catherine looked that day:

Catherine is all about doing what will "make my hair grow long." Sometimes it's taking a bath, sometimes drinking water. It's a big motivating factor because even though she was born with more hair than her sister, it took her hair longer to get going. Once Caroline's bald head kicked into gear it grew really fast, into blonde ringlets. Catherine's hair really getting long, isn't it? Her hair reminds me of my grandmother's which was dark and curly to show off her really light skin. Catherine's middle name is Mae, after my grandmother, so that's just one of the reasons we think her "really long hair" is special.

Mary and her beautiful cousin Elyse. Mary's on the left. They were best little cousin friends when they were babies. However I just noticed they're not babies anymore.

My Time in Blogland Time-Out

2008-04-08T12:29:00.004-05:00

I suppose a few of you have noticed I've been absent from blogland for a few weeks. Gosh, time flies when you're losing your mind. I knew I'd be back eventually, I was just taking a little time out.

I made some really big, much-needed changes in my life, but my life and all its commitments didn't get the memo. My life and all the commitments are still expecting the same results as before, which means I've been busy trying to get rid of the commitments so I can never make the mistake of volunteering for this or that ever again. You would think I was a well-heeled philanthropist without a job or kids the way I have been working for good causes. Frankly, it has to stop! I'm sick of being a do-gooder.

What was my big change? Well first, I got the message that I needed to spend a little more time around my house, you know, doing important things like taking care of my children. Let me tell you, that was a shocking message to receive and comprehend. And the reason I knew it was probably someone important like God implying that my children needed me more, was because I really didn't want to hear that message. I was busy. I had commitments and responsibilities. My kids were being expensively well-taken taken care of, but it wasn't by me. And that became a problem. I finally heard the message loud and clear one day when my friend Cristin relayed something Jamie told her in a conversation about somebody else: "Sometimes what's best for everybody else isn't always what's best for you." That one sentence was just part of a random conversation, but it resonated in my head like a bullhorn:

"Hey Sami !!!!! Yeah, you. What's best for your family might not be what you would dream up in fantasyland!! Yes, I'm talking about your kids and your home. Maybe even that neglected husband of yours."

So what I did was cut back on the work week by two days, Monday and Friday. That gives me four days in a row with the darlings and then every night and that's certainly enough for any 42-year-old basket case with 3-year-old twins and a beginning teenager. I got the message but let's not get carried away. I'm not quitting my job and becoming a home-schooler, even though that's very admirable if you are wired that way but I can assure you, I am not.

All three of them when Catherine and Caroline turned three

The new arrangement has forced me to cram a lot of work into naptime, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday. One Thursday I worked from 9 a.m to 4:30 without taking a break because I didn't have the heart to postpone the renovation of a lovely powder room over the weekend and until the next Tuesday. I wasn't about to explain my freakish schedule to my client. This weekend I managed to work Saturday morning while my amazingly hands-on husband took the girls to visit his grandmother.

Catherine modeling her new pink tutu skirt. Caroline agreed to wear the new pink shoes

So far it's working. My kids don't cry and hang on my leg when I leave. They still fight and whine try to eat carbs and sugar for every meal, but I think that's normal. There seems to be a little more peace and love flowing through our air.

Barefooted and burning up at Gruene Hall a few years ago. You can tell because they have no hair.

I promise to get back to blogland soon to reveal all the fun stuff I've been working on. And, amazingly enough, I have pictures!!!

Solving Faux Problems

2008-03-05T21:22:00.003-06:00

So I have this really great client who I love and who has played a really pivotal role in my life even though she probably doesn't even know it, starting about six years ago when I first did my faux-painting thing in her living room and on some built-in shelves. She recently asked me to help her "patch" some places in the walls.

Well this required floating out the sheet rock and blowing new texture so I called in Narciso and his experts for that. They did an incredible job without even making a mess. Now it's my turn and I've been trying to not only match what I did six years ago, but also what someone else did before that. It's impossible. My former faux is fixed and it's really passable.

But in the bedroom -- that's another story. Today I stood there dabbing a bit of glaze here, another glob there, -- not knowing what in the hell the other faux painter used or what he was trying to do. Did he use a rag, a sponge? Surely not an Ultimate Stippler like I love. Amidst all those question marks floating around in the air above my head, I came up with a solution to everyone's problem.

Beautiful Gwynne just needs to buy a bigger bookshelf to cover up the not-so-matchy patches and it will solve the whole problem.

And if that doesn't work, she just needs to hire me to repaint her whole master bedroom so we can start over. I think that would be my preference, actually. Right now it's what my daughter Caroline calls a ba-saster.

Love it, love it, love it!

2008-02-26T22:32:00.002-06:00

It's really hard for me to turn off my brain sometimes at night. And since I've been up painting on Vicky's coffee table because she's having a CAbi party on Thursday and MUST have it and I PROMISED, I can't dive into creative brain buzz and then shut it right off like someone else I know in this house.

With that in mind, I decided I'd blog for a bit. We've all been a bit blogless lately and I've nothing to read. Since I don't really have anything profound to profess at the moment, I decided to show y'all a house I really like. It's on Lake McQueeney, on Treasure Island. I had noticed it for its special, not-the-same-old-Sherwin-Williams-neutral color. However my very cool friend Stephanie one day said "have you seen the cool house with the pink shutters?"

Pink shutters? And I had not seen this and taken note of it? The very next day I was out on "the island" (as we like to say in a Thurston Powell voice) so I decided to track it down. I still love the house, but with the pink shutters installed, now I want to marry it.

If I was to put shutters on my house and be as avant garde, I suppose they would need to be lime green, or a boring black. I can't seem to find a picture of it on this computer, so I'll have to show you next time.

Here's a peak at the house I love from the water.

For a lake house, I just love it.