There are those of you out there who will argue with me, but in most cases the following is true:
Real is good. Fake is bad.
I know – you’re now thinking of all the scenarios that make that previous statement untrue.
Fine. Yes, I like that fake frosting that comes on the cheap bakery cakes. Love it, actually. And fake tans, if done well, can really change a girl’s outlook on life (especially after the bakery cake incident).
But most fake stuff: hair extensions, coworkers, teeth – not good.
You don’t remember this song, do you? Why? Because you are not old, that’s why.
Anyway, You Light Up My Life was written by the young, talented, feather-haired beauty Debby (with a ‘y’) Boone.
I was five years-old when the song was released, and I still remember the words. I’ve been humming this little ditty to myself for the past few weeks because I have new clients (whom shall remain nameless, but you know who you are) who are oddly attached to the the ceiling fans in their newly purchased...
When someone leaves your house, be thoughtful enough to stand at the door and see them off. Who wants to spend an entire evening with friends or family only to look back fondly, your heart warm and your belly full, and see the front door shut tight and the house already dark?
I learned this nicety from my grandparents – two people who literally exuded love. My fondest memories are seeing them huddled together at their front door, under the porch light glow, smiling, waving, and blowing kisses...
My mother’s day celebration officially ended at 3AM when Caroline started screaming “I threw up! I threw up!” and Andy started gagging and I started that time-honored tradition of stripping down a pukey child, running a bath, starting the laundry, finding the ginger ale, and asking myself why I married a man who can probably shoot a man dead if necessary but cannot, if his life depended on it, deal with vomit.
Still, I am lucky enough to live down the street from Clare and BJ Ambrose, owners of A...
What’s black and white and fabulous all over? Um – these rooms, for one thing.
I’m sort of a sucker for the tried and true black and white combo. Hence, my love of Oreos. But that’s not what this is about, now, is it?
I’ve been toying with the idea of a black and white bathroom basically every day for the past year, but I am a smidge busy with blogging and clients and the four children who recently found the hiding place for the Oreos.
I don’t know about you, but I am not rolling in the dough these days. Or ever. And even if I was, I don’t know if I would spend my hard-earned dollars on really expensive art. Maybe I would. Who knows, as I’ve never been perusing my bank account and asking myself just where shall I spend all of my millions? I have indulged in a few special pieces, and I’ve never once regretted it, even when deciding between rice and pasta for dinner to off-set the expense. (Art buying and low-carb eating do not...
The Neighbor’s House has opened its doors, thanks to the blood and sweat of the two Ts in my life (you know who you are) and the tears of yours truly.
Okay, so not really tears. More like whimpering.
But it was worth the emotional turmoil because my website, Twitter feed, Facebook account, and Pinterest pages are live and now I can sit back and do what comes naturally to me: shop, design other people’s homes and offices (while secretly coveting most of the things I find), drink cold coffee, and wr...