Friday, February 15, 2019

I dreamed I wore a pink raincoat.



I dreamed I wore my new pink Paris raincoat for a walk to the pond with the dogs. I let the day's drizzle fall gently on my face as I gave thanks for being blessed with an English rose complexion.

The rain did not frizz my pale blonde hair. 

Storm clouds gathered but held off until I leisurely strolled around water's edge.

Eventually I walked back to the house, whistling for the dogs, my mind full of plans for finishing writing the final chapter in my latest book, the aroma of a perfectly roasted hen, redolent of rosemary and lemon and garlic coming from the kitchen.

I knew that a chilled crystal bowl of creamy potato salad waited in the refrigerator and a bottle of Maison Veuve Clicquot was on ice in the silver champagne bucket.
  
A late lunch for two at a beautifully laid table was waiting only for RH to finish washing his hands after pruning the  English roses in the garden.

Into your baskets, BreeBree and James Mason! 

Hurry, before Mama wakes up!


[my raincoat-wearing alter ego from Harper's Bazaar, February 1936]
 

 

 

Thursday, February 14, 2019

Happy Valentine's Day, Burns!



In my opinion you should have won Best of Show at Westminster, you handsome dachshund, you!

We dachshund lovers are pretty burned up about it going to a wire fox terrier--for about the 1000th time. Sorry, King, you had a face I wanted to kiss and it's not your fault, but that trophy belonged to Burns.

I spent far too much time scrolling through every single Best of Show winner since the Ark landed and King's ancestors appeared over and over and over. 

Can we next time have a judge who's raised dachshunds for decades, please?

I must get over this insult that I and BreeBree and James Mason took personally. It is Valentine's Day and my heart should be filled with love towards all, I guess. 

I have Bolognese sauce cooking slowly for a candlelit pasta supper tonight so I'll think only of romantic things the rest of the day--like that scene from Lady and the Tramp where the darling couple are eating spaghetti and they each take an end of one pasta strand.

Isn't that one of the most romantic movies ever? I must see if Amazon has it where RH and I can watch it next Valentine's Day.

I hope Burns gets to dine on his favorite meal tonight and is being spoiled rotten this week so his mind will be kept off that rival wire fox terrier. 

In the meantime, RH and I will spoil our own champions...



One of whom is the same color as Burns!

Let's face it, it'll be a long time before I'm not mad at that judge. And from what I see, a lot of dachshund moms and dads feel the same way. 

Happy St. Valentine's Day, y'all!

And yes, most of my blogging problems got solved, with lots of help from my son, hours and hours of help. There are still some hair-pulling episodes happening every day as I try to sign in again to everything, changing passwords as I go, but I have a security system working so no more pop up ads, yeah!


Monday, February 11, 2019

Blogging Help!

Please help if you can.

I haven't been able to reply to comments left here or at my other blog today. 

And I don't think the comments I've left at other blogs have gone through.

I've searched all through online instructions and as far as I know I've done everything they say to.

If anyone can think of anything for me to try, please let me know in a comment or email.

Thank you so much,
Dewena

 TUESDAY morning: Success! I can now comment and reply again! I signed out of blogger and signed back in, changing my password and that worked! 

Next I will have to try commenting at some wordpress blogs where I haven't been able to leave comments lately and see if that's straightened out yet.

As my dad used to quote Winston Churchill, "Nevah, nevah, nevah give up!" Or something to that effect!  

Sunday, February 10, 2019

Mandarin Orange Time




Thank you, California!

It's Mandarin orange time, my favorite February fruit!

Unbelievable sweetness and if you can believe this article here, so good for you.


I would love to leave them out on the counter in my pretty Red Wing pottery dish but they went into the fridge after they posed for their photo.

My life has been so uneventful this week that all I have to show you is one mini-project that happened.


The cabinet in the dry sink was a mess and Marie Kondo offered a simple solution on Tidying Up--baskets!

Sam's had a special on a pack of three lightweight baskets and I'm now a believer in baskets for corralling lots of loose packages.

All James Mason cares about is that he smells food in there somewhere. He's feeling lots better but is still on a med and being restricted from anything but gentle movements.

Ha! Tell that to a dachshund who wants to bark ferociously at every noise he hears and race his sister to the door when they hear Daddy coming home. 

We're doing the best we can. Neither of them are allowed to jump on the sofa anymore, it's barricaded off, and he finally got to start going out to his pen without being carried after RH built him a ramp to walk up and down the porch steps. 

Neither Jame Mason or BreeBree are happy about losing their sofa. 




Friday, February 1, 2019

Fantasy Fashion for a Daughter

Daughters!

What are we going to do with them?

A 1934 fifteen-year-old thinks she knows everything there is to know about fashion.

Here is what I want my Anne to wear to the Valentine's Day Dance at school...


Don't you love that fuchsia-purple faille taffeta evening frock?

The pale pink sash is so sweet and I know that her father would approve of the ruching around the neckline.

Anne looked as if she were going to cry when she tried it on.

"Mother, you wouldn't! 
I look about twelve in it.
Even if a boy asked me to dance if I wore this,
no one would cut in on him, no one."

That dejected look on her face went away when she tried on the one she chose.


At least she had not chosen a black dress but even in pink she immediately assumed such a sophisticated pose and world-weary face.

Where did that hand on the hip stance come from?

Is this my little girl?

Is she really old enough to wear slipper satin?

With that low d├ęcolletage?

Will she next think she is old enough to go to nightclubs?

And the most important question of all--

What will her father say?



[Gowns from Vogue magazine, Advance Retail Trade Edition, November 1934]




Thursday, January 31, 2019

January Goodbye



I almost forgot about a January Goodbye post and will hurry to slip this one in before midnight.

Tomorrow I'll turn the first page of the 2019 Kevin Dodds calendar. It seems like only yesterday that I closed the 2018 calendar. 




As usual the beginning of a new month meant a few changes on my kitchen shelves, always something I enjoy doing, and the very last bloom of amaryllis 'Caprice' lasted a long time in a juice glass away from the sun in the big window.


All the Christmas decorations were packed away earlier than I had anticipated I would, the few in my bedroom being the last as they were cheerful at night before bed. Mainly only an old Waterford wreath and a German book of the Nativity.




One book that I've enjoyed every night before bed is this day book by one of my very favorite authors, Richardson Wright, editor of House & Garden from 1914 to 1950. 

I try to buy his old books as I can and I dearly love day books so this one has been such a pleasant surprise. As many of his books that I have that were written while he was with the magazine, it was only in this one, published after he retired, that I learned he was an Episcopalian lay preacher. There's been a little gem on almost every page.



RH has been busy working this month but managed to do a day of yard work last weekend on a mild day, transplanting a few small trees to better locations and digging up one of the two butterfly bushes in the back garden and moving it to a front bed for more room for both of them to spread.

He also hung the new coat rack above, a sweet bargain from our trip to Goodwill for under $5. When I spotted the Smith & Hawkin label on the back I knew it had to be quality. It gives him space for gloves and knitted hats in the cubbyholes.

He also found two half-price things at Costco in the January clearance and brought them home hoping I'd like them.



Would I like this green ceramic olive oil jar? Be still my heart!



This porcelain cookie jar not only had the best chocolate cookies in it, it's now a great jar for homemade treats!



I'm still using cranberries from my freezer, making three loaf cakes of Orange Cranberry bread from an old recipe in Romantic Homes magazine that was amazing, pictures forgotten, but twice making this simple apple-cranberry crumble with oat topping that was so very good! 



Our precious James Mason is doing better, we hope and pray. Time will tell. This last week has been devoted to him.



His little sister has gotten her share of attention too. This has been dachshund week, just can't keep our hands off them! 

I am afraid the sofa is now off limits to them, their stool taken away and the sofa forbidden even for BreeBree. Dachshunds backs are just not made for jumping, even though they like to fly like the birds.

I'm publishing this with no proof reading because they are both letting me know that it is time to go night night, so forgive any errors, please.

Goodnight to all, goodnight to January!

Sunday, January 27, 2019

James Mason's Woes



It's okay, James Mason.

It's only for two weeks, I hope.

And it's doctor's orders.

We have to let the meds and being crated do their work because neither of us wants surgery, do we?

And no more jumping on and off the sofa for you, my dear boy. It's just too risky for dachshunds.


A dog figures you can really do no wrong, though you may be misguided now and then.
Gladys Taber in Stillmeadow and Sugarbridge