Does it feel like summer's almost over to you?

It does to me.

I gave in and bought my 2009 calendar pages this week, earlier than usual. Usually I can hold out until August, but as soon as I got home from Mendocino, it seemed imperative that I start getting next year's stuff written down. And suddenly it's the end of July and my thoughts ar turning to Fall what with Playford Ball planning and booking ES Ball musicians, thinking about Scottish, and realizing that I have to write my GCD program for September 3rd next week! And then there's E&A Week...

Then I stop the speeding train and remind myself that I'll mostly be at home for 3 whole weeks. That feels great! I'm getting estimates for roof repair, and depending on how that goes, I'll keep plugging away at the slipcover/living room decor oddysey. Mostly what I want to do in this stretch of time is de-clutter and keep unpacking the parts of the house that are still in chaos: parts of the kitchen and laundry room, the craft room, the dressing room. Those don't require financial outlay, just time, which will disappear after 9/1. Oh, and then there are sewing projects, the aforementioned programs to write, camp planning to work on...

But I want the fantasy back that I have all of summer before me...

No, wait. This might be the perfect one...

Courtesy of Deb. From Neiman Marcus.

Do I need this sofa, or a new back roof??

Forget slipcovers. I'll just get a new sofa...

Antoinette Fainting Sofa in Aubergine from Urban Outfitters.

Madame will be at home...

It's been so delightful having a weekend at home and even more exciting to realize that other than a quick hop to Boston mid-week and a weekend in New York coming up, I'll be at home for several weeks in a row!

Yesterday was taken up by car stuff, my Container Store oddysey, moving rocks and pulling weeds in the front grassy patch (the backyard is a certifiable jungle - so embarassing - next week's project...), moving food around in the kitchen, and finally, dancing. Today was great - the freedom to sleep in, run lots of errands (learning how to drive the new car), enjoy the pool party, and watch little Ms Esmerelda.

Among other errands this weekend was a stop back at Bed Bath and Beyond. The brown slipcovers are now no more. The next experiment: twill slipcovers from Target. Color: milkshake.

Yes, I know it's a ridiculous color to contemplate, and that that they will stain. I passed a place that makes custom slipcovers, but if I went that route, I might as well get the current ones reupholstered, or simply buy new. But I have to keep trying to find something I like, and brown wasn't it. I'll keep you posted.

Another fun stop today was the new-ish tea place in Chestnut Hill: The Hill Tea Bar. It seems small, but charming with indoor and outdoor seating and antiques from the shop next door on display. There are tea tastings and wine tastings and story hours for the kiddos. Their hours are somewhat in flux as they get a feel for the neighborhood, so I put in my request for a late Friday or Saturday night. Who wants to go for tea?

The latest saga…

Just before I went off to Mendocino, my mom’s mechanic found a car for me: a 1998 Toyota Avalon. It’s older than my Saturn, and has almost as many miles, but it’s a Toyota and has had a new (Toyota) engine put into to it a couple of years ago.

By the time I got home from Camp, it was a done deal, and all I had to do was go get it. Seems simple enough. I had Friday night and almost all of Saturday free, and quickly arranged a dinner date with Deb and transferred my car insurance. I’d pick up the car on Saturday, register it on Monday, get it inspected on Tuesday, drive to Boston on Wednesday. What could go wrong?

Oh nothing but a 12” x 6” piece of pressed aluminum, i.e., the license plate.

Mom’s mechanic, through whom the car was found, in his fastidiousness removed the plates (or tags, as they’re called in the business), to repaint the bumpers, and assuming I no longer needed them, returned them to the previous owner so they could be returned to the state. Disaster.

In the state of Pennsylvania, when you are registering and transferring the title of an out-of-state vehicle, the car must be physically present so the VIN and odometer reading can be confirmed. This meant that registering the car ahead of time and bringing a plate up with me was right out.

Next course of action - finding a title agent in NYC to issue me temporary in-transit tags. No dice. No agency could be found that was open on Saturday. Equally successful was my attempt to contact the NY DMV to ask about in-transit tags from them. Their lines were always busy - not even the possibility of eternal hold.

It was mom’s mechanic who took decisive action. He decided he would drive the car down, with his bother following to bring him back up to New York. But with what tags? I shouldn’t ask such questions. When was he coming? He was leaving NYC at 3 or 3:30 AM and would get to me around 5:30 AM.

And so it was. No one stopped the caravan, and the car was safely stowed in George and Paul’s driveway, nose out, so no one would think to look for the now missing tags.

Next step - to drive to AAA to register the car, get a plate, and get legal without getting pulled over for having no tag on my way there. And with heart in mouth and great adherence to all traffic signs and signals, I made it. And sure enough, an hour later, the title was transferred, the registration applied for, and a temporary registration issued, the address changed on my driver’s license, and most importantly, a license plate distributed and immediately placed on my car.

Today I can’t tell whether I’m fonder of and more grateful for the car and the return of my freedom, or the precious and much longed for license plate.

Yes and No...

New over the door pantry from the Container Store. Yes!



Brown slipcovers as seen on my loveseat. No.



I just can't do it. I can't come home to brown. I love the browns of furniture, but after growning up with a succession of browns and golds and mustards on the upholstery and the floor, I vowed not again.

Back they go. Next shot - cream color or some share of grey, and some kind of cotton duck or canvas, remembering to buy a shape that covers the skirt of the sofa.

Opinions, please...

Should I buy this poster for my wall? Probably my bedroom wall. It's Edouard Manet's Moonlight Over Boulogne Harbour, 1869. I've been wanting it for ages, ever since the manet and the Sea exhibit at PMA, but haven't seen one under $200 that includes the moon in the print, one of the key pieces in my opinion.

What do you think?

The first foray...

Today I bought slipcovers for my sofas downstairs. I did some research and decided to go for stretchy ones with a separate seat cushion cover from Surefit, which seems to be the brand of choice. Bed, Bath and Beyond carries them, and I had a coupon and the need to see the colors myself before choosing, so off I went before the dance.

And the choices! Not perfect. Not the one I'd chosen from the website. But at least a decent variety I could ponder over. And agonize over.

I came very close to chosing bugundy, the color that always calls to me. But neutrals are right for the room, so it was choices between taupe and oatmeal and camel and chocolate. I ended up with a medium brown, with no yellow in it. It's not the ideal color, but it has some tone variation and a decent texture, and with the right accents, could be quite nice.

I will actually put the things on over the weekend and post a photograph (which I can now do!!!) soliciting your opinions. But I'm thinking brown sofas, with maybe a cream/off-white color on the walls and touches of pale green on the pillows and rug, with maybe a splash of red to complement Sargeant's El Jaleo on my wall...

Come visit and offer opinions. And if I don't like the slipcovers, I can always return them.

One less blog to follow...

I will admit that I've gotten into reading some blogs - house blogs, design blogs, blogs about pandas, tableware, stationary - and the list grows... This is a direct outcropping of my hours sitting in Borders, reading magazines and books, taking notes, and rarely buying anything. Now I can just print a page that strikes my fancy.

Over the weekend, one of my (formerly) favorite blogs, Bluelines, came to an end.

First there was Blueprint, brought to us by the folks at Martha Stewart, a magazine meant to fall somewhere inbetween MSL, Real Simple and Domino, aimed at ayounger demographic. This was a magazine I almost subscribed to, and looked forward to quite eagerly. Along side the print edition was the website, and then the blog, Bluelines. Then the print version went bust, but they said that the electronic blog presences would continue. And it did, albeit in a meager, less well-written kind of way, as if the heart had gone out of the project. Updates were not even daily, and as the end drew near, I think the writers stopped trying.

I think I'll still miss the magazine more, and the hours spent poring over glossy pages, coffee in hand, pen at the ready to jot down ideas, but if the folks in power at MSL are listening, there's a small gaping hole in the empire.

I dream about storage space...

Someday, all of the little drawers and cubbies will be mine...

Re-entry...

It's impossible to sum up a trip to a dance camp in a few sentences and make it instantly clear what the experience was like. I won't try.

The first time I went to Neffa, I knew I was having a good time, but I didn't know what to do, where to go, how to structure my day, what to do during the off hours. Even by the end of the festival, I wasn't sure it was for me. Come the next year, it was impossible to think about not going back. While my feelings for Mendocino aren't quite that way, I know if I don't go back, I'll miss some things.

I won't miss the hills and the lack of electricity and the too-small dance hall, but if I don't return, I won't get to catch up with all of the folks who rarely travel east to that other camp I sometimes go to, but that we don't discuss too loudly or too often in the west lest anyone sense competition. I met and danced with lovely people. I saw redwoods and the Pacific Ocean and San Francisco, albeit by car. I ate well, and got more sleep than I ever do at camp, and even acquitted myself well on the teaching front.

And if they ask me back, I'm there.

So many doorways...

From Apartment Therapy... I have to start doing this.

Once more into the breach, dear friends...

So this coming home from camp and then turning around and going right back thing is crazy in general, but it's a whole other ball game when camp number 2 is a total unknown. At this point, I know exactly how to pack for Pinewoods - which bags I use, how to pack the car, how many towels, etc. I know none of this for Mendocino. That and I'm flying and checking luggage and I can't even pretend that my dresses will stay wrinkle free. I have a feeling this is going to bother me more than it ought to.

I'm slowly getting my act together - printing out many pages of dance stuff, writing programs, thinking about classes, making notes. The two classes I'm teaching are both in the morning, with only a 15-minute gap to regroup. In some ways this is good because I have the afternoon free to take class. In other ways, this is challenging because I don't have a lot of time to think between classes. I'm glad I'm moving from the breathlessness of Scottish to the comparitive ease of English. This is the right order for me.

Tomorrow night is ironing and packing. Friday is more of the same. Think good thoughts.

Partial packing list:

-Dresses - many
-Sweaters - it gets cold at night - maybe gloves also
-Dance shoes - all
-11 lb. bar of dark chocolate - for tasting party
-Happy tappy lights - not just for under cabinets any more
-Bear - for comfort
-Small moose - for luck

More black & white pottery...

Bridgewater Pottery via Head of the Table. I need all of these and more...

Into the woods we have to go...

I can't begin to sum up camp, much less say specific and coherant things about it on the amount of sleep I've had over the past few days. I'll try to do so over the next few days. Needless to say, I'm trying to come to terms with the fact that I'm not going to be at English Week this year to be with the similar gang of folks that were at July 4th (though I am tempted to email Steve Howe to see if the waiting list is moving. I know - stupid, but still...).

Dave Cornelius, among others, takes lots of photos of the weekend which I love to look at endlessly to take me back to that haven of fabulous dancing and great friends in the woods. Here's me and Sally on Friday or Saturday at the Porch & Rail, that venerable institution, laughing and trying not to pose as Dave captures the picture.

I'm happy to be home, but I want to go back. Now would be fine...

My bags are packed and...

And I'm just about ready to go...

And though I vow every year I will get to bed before 2am the night before camp, I haven't made it yet.

I'll admit I was packed by about 1am, but it's these last second emails and my very fun dial-up connection that put me this late.

But as of tomorrow I'm off for the long weekend and ready to have a wonderful time.

This image, taken by Jeremy Thorpe is a quintessential Pinewoods picture for me. Every night after the evening dance, bunches of folks go swimming in Long Pond. And as you're cooling down, this is the view you see looking back at the camphouse. The lights are on and the party is waiting for you...