Little Pink Houses



Think of the inside of your house as your soul and the outside architecture as something like your bone structure, your gentle inheritance . . .our true home is inside each of us, and it is your love of life that transforms your house into your home.

- Alexandra Stoddard

Cant get enough of those palm trees, old Florida stucco cottages, and early morning walks in the warm sunshine, where I passed all of these little charmers. I left my I pod and music at home  and chose to tote my camera instead - just too many photo ops to miss. I didn't miss the music at all, the birds and the ocean waves in the background more than made up for it.




There's Flamingo Pink

And  Banana Yellow

And Mint Green

And Ice White

. . . .who knows what color this one is - it's completely blanketed by a solid covering of  teeming tropical life. I can only imagine how many tiny little lizards are happily scampering in and out of the vines.

The monstrous mega- mansions that are slowly replacing the look and feel of so many neighborhoods can certainly impress, but too many original works of  historic Florida architecture have been sacrificed. It was really heartwarming for me to observe the many older homes that are obviously still cherished and lovingly maintained.

Here's a peek inside a special little Florida cottage, well loved and happily home over the years to countless seekers of the warmest and sunniest  hospitality to be found anywhere.

Wherever your address , whatever the climate you are dealing with,  whatever the color of your house,  know you are in a special place, the place where you live.  I wonder if the mailman smiles when he gets to this address each day?  I sure hope so!

Isn't this the  perfect wine for a beach picnic?  I wanted to save the label, but couldn't get it off the bottle, so I had to paint it instead. Cheers!

Under The Covers,

There is a special place . . . where good works are done-

where elegance is spun from snippets and scraps . . . 

The one and only quilt I can remember from my childhood graced my bed for a very short time. It was white with flowers embroidered on the squares, and it was made by my mother's mother. One day as I was playing on my bed with scissors, (Something I did a lot it seems!), I cut into the quilt and I knew I was in trouble.  I managed to cover up the cut for a few days, but when it was discovered by my mom, the quilt went away never to be seen again. I cant even imagine how she must have felt, and I don't remember how she reacted, but all these years later my heart aches for her. 

When I saw this stack of quilt squares in a tag sale a few years ago I recognized them immediately . The very same quilt of my childhood. I purchased them of course, with great plans to recreate that lost quilt, recapture that memory and heal the scar. Ah, the power of a quilt- pieces of  simple but lovingly stitched scraps of cloth by someone long gone.

The inspiration for quilts comes from every place in our world, especially the garden. 

Quilts in the nursery are the most precious -

 stitched  lovingly to keep the babies warm and cozy

Quilts are for beds its true - but they are so much more, they are memories of little girls dresses long ago cast aside, scraps of feed bags not to be wasted, and most of all, they are the work of many hands together , hands belonging to women who sought and found a way to bring art and beauty into the bleakest, simplest and hardest circumstances of their lives.  Piecing and quilting these warm covers was often the only outlet women had for the fire of creativity that burned within their souls,  and the only way to feed their hunger for community and companionship.

My first quilt, embroidered lovingly by a girl with dreams of her first home,  and how she would make it beautiful 

with the work of her own hands.

A pile of collected quilts , each one made by different hands in different years, settles easily into a blended  family.

Art comes in many forms, and fabric art is surely the humblest and most noble of them all.  Quilting today has evolved into a world of computer programs and machine stitching, but for me, the allure and the pleasure

is inseparable from the feel of the fabric in my fingers, the motion of  the needle as it slowly pierces the layers, and all of it laying right in my lap as I sit in my favorite comfortable chair.

The January Blues

I've been hearing a lot of commentary lately about January Blues, After Holiday Letdown,

Winter Doldrums , and on and on.  Hey, I LOVE January. Its like my annual great big wonderful gift of  a whole month of opportunity. My time to put away, sort out, catch up, pull together, wind down even , all without a single mandatory imposed deadline - just my own TO DO list, written by me alone!

The winter skies outside may be occasionally gray , the landscape bare and bleak, the air wet and cold, but inside its warm and cozy, and everywhere I look there is some little unfinished project that I have wanted to do for months.

The color blue meeets me around every corner today, so here is my own joyful version of January Blues . Join me on  treasure hunt for  bright blues, pale blues, sparkling blues and clear blues - through the house, through the photo albums,  and through my memories.

The  Rosemary plants, snug and safe in their winter glass house, are adding their unique touch of blue with fragrant blossoms bursting forth from every branch.

This may be the bluest room I every stayed in - a tiny hotel in Paris!

Blue glass bottles are transformed into jewels by the light

Blue vases and blue walls

The most royal of all blue birds, a regal peacock

 I met at a Charleston S.C. Plantation

January and February feel like a gift of time more than anything - and what better gift is there? Now the garden is asleep, the Holidays are over, and Im free to play, to dream, to savor the restful season that is winter.

Blue is what you make of it -So have a cup of tea in a blue willow cup and dream of the first signs of spring, with blue flowers peeking up through the newly green grass

With paper and paint - a cup of tea in a blue willow cup

Snow Scenes

The moon, the stars, the glistening snow

wishing you a Christmas thats bright and beautiful

and a sparkling New Year

There is a quality of stillness so rare that the air shimmers in its presence, like right after a new snowfall

Needless to say,, this phot0 was taken last year, no snow for us this year - but we can dream,  so let's just remember . . . .

Skating on the Pond at Glen Oak Lagoon, this is from a painting by  Elmer King  - a much-loved Peoria area artist.

Skating with friends and family on these park ponds was a

wonderful part of our winters for many years.

Mt. Pilatus in Lucerne Switzerland, 1967, the only year we spent Christmas away from home, far away from home!

 A favorite miniature painting by my Aunt Betty - 1975

Can you remember the movie Little Women

with Katherine Hepburn? That is one big snowman.

It wouldnt be Christmas without the art of Tasha Tudor and her wonderful books.

Today we have Facebook, my mother and her friends had Autograph Books - they actually wrote in them with a pen!  I think they might have written "Yours till the snow flakes" . . . .

With Paper & Paint    A Simple Gift

An Ode to Boats

I know, I  know  . . .the rest of the world seems to be worrying about snow and shopping, but Ive been re-reading The Wind In The Willows , and I cant stop thinking of our boat. I feel she needs a proper farewell before the year ends, so I'm squeezing it in here. Its my homage to all boats, ones I have owned, ones I have borrowed, and one's I have had the pleasure of just watching. 

As I bid farewell to summer this year,  I also said goodbye to our humble little boat.  She got old and worn out, but I loved her still. Why? Well for one thing she was the first boat we ever owned that had a cabin below with a head, a galley, and a bed! Then there was the real teak wood that adorned so much of her deck and interior, and the name on her side - "Petite Bateau" - French of all things! She had class, and she was the scene of many warm and sunny memories with friends and family.  Especially magical were the soft velvet evenings on the river, with stars twinkling above and the moon throwing a long luminous path across the dark water.

Boats at rest as the sun sets over the harbor in Door County, Wisconsin - a feast for the eyes as the day ends in ribbons of liquid gold and amethyst.

We talked for days about this one, wondering what it looked like inside and trying to imagine how it would be to travel the Florida waters in a craft like this! 

Spotted on a recent trip to Paris . How much fun would it be to "rent" one of these and spend the day sailing on the pond in the park!

Canoes can be challenging fun - especially when you are trying to keep them 'right side up' on the Crystal River adventure in Wisconsin.

This boat got a second chance at life , and though it's days at sea seem to be over, it still manages to put on a very good show. Just goes to show you, we all have more than one talent!

How exciting to be sailing off the coast of Maine. I watched this boat from the rock-hard safety of my island , but  I could actually feel the thrill of the wind and water.

Ive never met a boat I didnt want to ride on, but an early morning solitary sojourn on a calm, quiet lake has to be the best of all. Just me, slipping slowly looking through the crystal water with the sound of the paddle as it splashes at my side. Ahhhhhhh . . .

A boat at rest in the harbor is a beautiful thing, but boats are built to sail, to race and to soar.  And so, I believe, are we!

With Paper & Paint       Green Dory

Autumn Unleashed

It would be worthwhile having a cultivated garden if only to see what Autumn does to it - A Austin 1894

The leaves fall off the trees with a breeze

You can jump in the leaves

When they come together

They feel light as a feather

by Hannah 2002

The place is a mess, winds and rains have taken down bushels of twigs and leaves, and I am hopelessly behind on my garden chores. Most Novembers I am lining up bags of leaves in triple digit numbers, this year not a bag have I filled. Perennials are still limping along in some places, annuals are mostly gone, and Im letting it all happen .

Amazingly, here and there, little spots of beauty still emerge

The evenings are cooler, the skies are brighter and the rains are wetter . . . and after a long absence spent on indoor projects, I finally took the time to walk in my garden today, just to see what had been happening.  I was surprised and enchanted with the brilliance waiting to be discovered, and thankful that I took those few minutes. I could have missed all this!    

For at least a month now my garden has been the object of utter neglect - all the fussing and puttering that goes on in the enthusiasm of spring and  summer is long forgotten, and Autumn's beauty has happened entirely without me.  Well let that be a lesson to me and everyone, all of us who thought we were such necessary elements  in our gardens.  Guess what, life, the garden, it all goes on without us , quite nicely as a matter of fact, and the results can be spectacular.

I picked up these miniature roses at the supermarket in May to make a corsage for my grandson's Prom date, then planted them in a stone trough.  They seem to be quite happy and continue to bloom and thrive in the cool wet days, looking quite happy with an added tapestry of fallen oak leaves.

Kale has to be the brightest bonus of all - each one started from a tiny seedling pack in the spring and growing into a giant and regal rosette in the fall.

I cant decide, should I leave these fabulous heads of cabbage in the garden until a hard frost nips them, or cut them and bring them inside!  I can just see them in the center of my harvest table!

While I have been searching for the perfect rug for the dining room,  just look at the carpets mother  nature

has woven on my lawn. 

Sometimes it seems to me

That my garden tries

To give me all it can

Just before it dies