Call it a breakdown in communication

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

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

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...

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!

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

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

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

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

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

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.