morning has broken
it's hard to believe that not two hours before this photo was snapped, we were having a brilliant, summer storm.
a storm with all the proper, dramatic fixings: sit-you-straight-up-out-of-a-dead-sleep, loud, cracking thunder! light-up-the-whole-blacked-out-bedroom, blinding lightning! and then the ensuing, much more mannerly, blanket of rain: she kindly attempted to lull us back to sleep with her melodious patter onto our roof and into our yard, but unfortunately for me, once i'm awake, I'M AWAKE!
holiday be damned. the family had to be up before dawn. hunkiest had a tee time, i have a spin class to teach {75 minutes--GULP!}, and the beast has different napping positions she'd like to explore.
waiting on our front step for the paper: coffee in cup, beast by my side, sleep on the brain, grump in my mood, in less than 10 minutes, i watched the deep, navy blue sky slowly dilute into a lighter, more lucent marine. it looked like thousands of angel artists were furiously, madly painting and pasteling {a word in katie-land} up and down the sky, all competing for the prettiest shade of day.
and then the sun. that sun. a bring you to tears, beautiful ball of sublime, lifted from behind our trees, our house, and slowly made her way up into the sky.
and just like that, my breakfast of grumpy was over. yes, i'm still a bit tuckered from lack of sleep, but i'm great at catching up with an afternoon nap....or two.
i hope you have a wonderful holiday.
labor day happy to you m'loves.
weekend happy
farewell my endless, carefree as a whisper, summer. i will miss you much.
i will miss the smell of your backyard barbecue. the silent, but potent neighborhood bell which beckoned the sunburnt, beach-cruiser riding puppies home each day from the sand.
how sad i'll be to bid adieu to my summer scents. one for day, a breezy, light, swing in a seaside hammock kind of fragrance; sweet and soft, not too strong, yuzu mixed with the pacific ocean. the other for night, a strong, night-blooming jasmine blended with a stronger honeysuckle, make this a true southern california scent; melissa flagg's oils conjure memories of late night, top-down drives, through the hot santa ana's.... trisha yearwood on the radio, young boys on the brain.
goodbye mr. panama hat. it's back to wooly bowler standby's for fall.
come tuesday that orange blossom love which has floated throughout the house for the last 3 months will morph into a spicier, less petal-like waft. i know i'll long for my dark, warm mornings where the gentle aroma of white flowers waltzing against a cobalt, blue sea guide me into my day.
so long to summer's fresh, off the vine tomatoes and california avocados. i'm wet duck lucky to have such delicious local candy at my fingertips.
an afternoon nap, just my beast and i, under the serenading whirl of ceiling fan. we keep cool, talk girl, and steal away from the silly outside summer antics. this ritual i may have to keep year-long.
so m'loves, did you have a nice summer too? what will you miss?
a weekend happy to you.
see you on the other side of sunday!
the great white out
ok m'loves. i need your help. i finally got the nod to paint my brown walls.
they're actually benjamin moore decorator's white, but in my opinion, they have always looked brown, dirty dishwater brown to be specific.
can you brilliant minds suggest equally brilliant, bright, find-your-sunglasses, put your spf-30 on, whites?
here are some photos of whites i like:
although our home is nowhere near jonathan alder's funky-fresh vibe, his pop white is right up my alley.
i definitely want a cool, parisian tone. i can smell creamy and warm a mile away. pretty, but i've done it, smoked it, free-based on it, it's no longer welcome in my waterpipe.
this last picture here closest resembles my current brown white walls: dingy, sooty, drab, tan.
i need to pop a prozac just looking at them.
any suggestions would be much appreciated.
thank you darlings.
scenes from a weekend
determined to fashion my black thumb a new green dress, i stuck close to home this weekend, and spent most of my free time in the backyard garden. we're in the process of renovating our yard, but in the meantime..
the lavender is bouncy and spa-smelly.
my succulents look large, colorful, almost pre-historic.
a fancy accessory here and there {thank you lovely lex}.
and e'er a beast to always keep watch.
it was such a nice weekend until hunkiest and i decided to finally attack the pontiac that had been delivered to our front yard last friday. i'm not kidding; a box literally the size of a small sedan was set in the middle of our front yard. they couldn't deliver it to our doorstep, because there wasn't enough room.
our backyard patio furniture had arrived. and part of the deal of me buying said furniture was that i'd make the purchase sans white glove delivery service, and extra fee.
big mistake!
although my afternoon view wasn't bad, and we had several stomach cramping giggle fits {one involving a 2 minute hostage situation with a 20' umbrella and me inside}; i still would have paid the extra money for assembly.
'cilla supervised.
and then became bored.
tada! a glimpse of one chair and a side table.
as you can see in the back, it looks like i'm sitting kandahar. we have a long way to go: gravel, foliage, trees covering our neighbors beautiful wall. but for now we have a lovely seating arrangement.
it was definitely weekend happy.
homegirl
monday happy to you m'loves!
southern california had its first warm weekend in what felt like a decade.
the neighborhood bustled with the ringing bells of beach cruisers, the clinking of margarita tumblers, impromptu front porch, procescco parties, and the ever present, smoky, sweet aroma of a bbq, permeating our open doors from friday afternoon to sunday night.
glory! glory! awww-chew!!
yes, despite all the warmth and splendor around me i was sidelined with my first major cold of the season.
out. man-down. this was a knockout. friday night i slept a total of 16 hours only to wake up saturday morning exhausted and feeling hungover.
hunkiest and i laid very low, had to cancel dates, stayed in, and rented fabulous movies.
we diary'd our weekend happy en photographie:
hoodrats.
milkbraids for sick girls who hate washing their hair.
{and for flirting with hunky boys}
our back porch kept me busy and domestic.
i tended mr. basil and sassy lady rose,
and then attempted a taming of sally thyme and rosemary green.
all are welcome out back.
the toes got a fresh coat of pink.
we breakfasted on croissants and café au lait in honor of the french open.
for once, i saw the writing on the streets wall.
in hindsight despite the chills, headache, and runny nose......it was a perfect weekend.
boo
hunkiest and i are convinced are house houses a ghost.
a friendly ghost albeit. non prone to spooking, hi-jinks, nor treachery.
but said ghost has bewitched our dear truman.
lately we've been finding truman in the most curious rooms of our abode, fixedly staring at nothing? .
we've learned to respectfully wait these private moments out. previous attempts to cull truman free from these trances only sends him right back in hours later, facing another blank wall with an earnest interest and puppy-like joy we haven't seen in the last 10 of his 12 years.
we've checked the house for pests...{just priscilla}, and we've checked truman out with the vet.
all is good.
we can only conclude 'tis a ghost.
evenings are its most active hours.
all night long ghost friendly and pal truman gambol and escapade in the deepest, most unused corners of our, now, creaky home.
spilling down stairs and tag-teaming 'round the den;
truman and his friend's rousing romper room inhibit even the household's heaviest sleeper {again priscilla} from shut eye.
we've even tried to lock our oldest, best behaved of all beasts ever owned, in at night;
but all that's left us with is a scratched up bedroom door, and a new impression of our so-called golden boy.
for now we endure the new night time capers.
yes, it's disruptive and gives to an occasional scare or startle.
but that bump in the night seems to have brought new life into my old fella t-man.
bring on the séances!
weekend house
sunday afternoon, when my work week is finally done, i identify my target {bed}, lock in, aim body, and fire in for my long-awaited {well-deserved} nap.
the sounds of our house stir me into sweet compose.
at first blush a baby might even find the silence too still and lull.
but sit a moment.
eyes closed.
the house breathes, beats and reverberates a peaceful lullaby:
from our bedroom i can hear harbor boats blast their booming, deep hulled tenor as they signal around the bay; soulful hellos boasting their years here on the water.
downstairs the percussion pants of de-conditioned beasts unaccustomed to neighborhood walks in the springtime sun, beat time to creaking, cracking ankles of the beast walker; no longer the tennis star he was in his youth.
snip, snip, snap sound the garden sheers of my neighbor miles. retired, he tends to his japanese boxwood with the love and care of an old-fashioned courtship. next he attempts to tame his wild, unruly, hot-pink, tea roses who crisscross his white pickets with the sass and rebellion of a teenager. sadie, his portuguese water puppy, plays bunny-rabbit throughout the yard, greeting all who walk by with a lick and a hop.
a sleepy smile escapes my slumber when i hear my beloved sock slippering the hard wood halls, office to den, to check an occasional basketball score, and scour the pantry for something chocolatey and sweet.
squeaky wheels peep from the kids on their cruisers pedaling home from the beach. cheeks burned, sand in their suits.
weekend coming to a close. just like my nap.
i've always thought i looked my best after a nap. even with my eyes a little puffy, hair a bit here and there. i'm my most katie after my naps. especially on sunday afternoons.
especially in the quiet of my house.
march
true to form, monsieur march came in like a lion;
surly and base, big paws swiping madly in the air.
agile as a cat, i luckily avoided any pops or scrapes to the face and bod.
silly little lions can't knock me down;
i'm always ready for a nice tangle and scrap.
scratch that. not true. pants on fire.
i HATE confrontation.
i'm quite the chicken.
cluck. cluck.
i'd rather hold my tongue than rumble.
my legs have a nice cozy spot for my tail.
but with all the bumps and barnacles i must share what else march has tendered:
homemade key lime pie.
mumford and son's tickets.
this year's first bloom of my jasmine plant.
a friday evening of french cuisine and friends.
new screen doors throughout the house.
a family dinner.
new bedroom furniture.
my dad's birthday.
my mom's beautiful smile.
spin and pilates students giving me goosebumps with their dedication.
blog posts making me cry, scream with laughter, and happy dance {sometimes all at once}.
my beasts discovering the art of spooning.
plum blossom bath soap.
pink nails.
hunkiest.
and finally the privilege of talking to you m'loves.
thursday happy to you!
valentine happy
typically i'm not fond of february 14th.
too much red {my color liked least} and too little spontaneity.
hunky and i choose to celebrate everyday as valentines rather than designate one silly day.
{pause for involuntary gag}
but just in case,
this one wacky year (oh those silly rabbits),
let's just say hunkiest couldn't bear the thought of his bride going gift-less, this day of lovers' sweet.
i've compiled a list {websites included honey} to guide him into gifting.
dreams caught and evil spirits thwarted with my pretty new pendant.
my inner alice in wonderland forever quenched in the high back cushion of a new chair.
navy and black. my new favorite combo bite. a side of sequins for dipping.
strappy stellas for stomping and romping 'round town.
a second stalactite for all of my costume changes. romping and stomping can get a girl a sweaty y'know.
no fancy words or pleas here, other than.....i'm out of my perfume baby.
doesn't matter if i don't have anywhere to where it. what matters is that it becomes mine.
doesn't hurt to ask.
in the end, if there are no bows to untie, no champagne to sip, no new pups to potty;
i cry stupid, ugly, re-united with your long lost sister you never knew you had, tears, at how lucky i am to have this man by my side. it truly is valentines day around here all year long.
the presents have already been opened.
happy weekend
tell me m'loves.
what's in your pocket for the weekend?
my dance card is full with basket after basket of laundry load.
{dryer sheets have been re-stocked}
over and out.
sign, sign, everywhere a sign
i wouldn't consider myself a chatty lass.
maybe tis why i tack posts throughout the house.....
this way i don't have to talk so much.
bitter
batshit crazy = me.
five of our smoke alarms decided to lose their juice last night starting at 1:38am.
not to take up all my time at once, each alarm politely waited 45 minutes in turn {once i had re-ensconced myself back into bed} to SOUND their hair curling screech screech.
the beasts tried to runaway to the nearest kill shelter; absolutely worthless in courage and pluck. they both have appointments with psychiatrists this morning: priscilla is binge eating and cutting herself, and truman is maniacally rocking back and forth, sucking his thumb.
i'm taking today one hour at a time; spoonfuls of coffee grounds into my mouth for energy.
i pity the fool who pisses me off today.
oh, and honey if you're reading this......really, really, really hope you're having a good time on the pebble beach bachelor party. last night was super fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun; so sorry you missed it....
.
red, white, and happy
happy weekend indeed.
smiling has been infectious of late.
the sun overcame her shyness.
hh didn't notice/mind the baked beans were bacon free.
a 6 year old's front yard, sparkler extravaganza {both parents inches away} was insanely more entertaining than any disneyland spectacle i've ever seen.
our sweet priscilla, whom will be with us for a year come friday, did not bolt or skip the fence as we had feared she would attempt.
{the fourth is such a nasty holiday for pups and kittens alike.}
to bed we all snuggled in early, windows and doors sealed shut.
whirling ceiling fans and kisses canceling out the noise of piccolo pete's and butterfly rockets.
still grinning ear to ear.
weekend
it's worked. the images have worked. no matter how delicious the key lime pie or side splitting the story, i can't get the oil-coated pelican off my brain.
friends visiting from the east got a taste of my grizzly, murky mood this past weekend. while they delighted in lobster spring rolls and wedding plans, i plotted how not to drive my hybrid as much.
i feel so responsible. i unplug every unused cord and even some that i DO (kinda) need. penance for all those times i unplugged my brain.
today i'm wearing moody as my accessory.
{let's be honest, i've been channeling sylvia plath since age 7 }
i'm not complaining. i'm just sad for the state of status quo. i get my hopes up and think we're better than where we are.
yet, then i'll drive around looking at people's bumper stickers; next thing i know: i'm in a corner, fetally rock back and forth, singing "landslide" with my thumb in my mouth.
i'm sure by tomorrow i'll be pirouetting, peonies in my hair, with a case of the giggles.
i'm a loon. my favorite foods are kale juice and cupcake frosting (preferably pink). there's no sense to be made...
happy monday friends.
california dreaming
good morning sunshine.
my lips still yearn for creamy, coconut, costa rican cocktails, but my california palms sweetened out their span extra wide today.
welcome home!
work recommences. alarms are reset. vitamins are taken (again).
i didn't bring home a tan (spf 800). or souvenirs (the beasts don't need any more shot glasses).
i did bring home a hunky hubby whose a little less eyebrow furrowed and a little more sillier in spirits.
for me i haven't figured it out yet. i'm rested, yes.
but i feel like i forgot to bottle up the peace piece of mind i had found underwater last week.
i get caughtupinthemomentandiforgettosaveitforlater.
i'm going to find sometime today to go back out with the palm trees. they seem to have the right attitude:
wiggle waggle in the sunshine, open up your arms to all!
happy monday.
impossible to be pouty in pink...
i was looking around and couldn't help but chuckle at all the girl that seems to be invading the house of late.....
here's a favorite to keep you in a blushing mood day long:
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D41-Bz1oNcA&feature=player_embedded]
keeping it pretty in pink today loves....
off i go
goodbye weekend. good riddance to pity.
nothing like a visit with adored aunt charla to send the scary sadness away.
grilled cheese and homemade lentil soup help too.
new week. fresh start. favorite detests the mopey; he's always commanded a certain dignity. a characteristic his two siblings consistently and miserably fail to supply.
i ferociously ride into this headwind of hurt with my heart lifted high, shoulders square, wearing my sincerest smile.
i get to love.
that's not just icing. that's icing and rainbow sprinkles.
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