My younger daughter loves fashion and putting outfits together. She’s the best 
thrift-store shopper I know. We go into a Salvation Army dig store and I’m done in three minutes because there’s nothing there — I think — and she emerges with an armload of cute and stylish pieces. Of course, she’s young and cute and stylish herself, so that helps immensely! Most thrift-store finds would just look sort of sad on me but she wears them with flair. It’s all in the attitude, and she’s got it. The other secret to thrift-store shopping, I think, is combining high and low and new and found. When she was home for the holidays, she brought some of her latest discoveries and had fun putting looks 
together. In these pictures she was going to a Christmas party with her dad’s family and was trying to winterize a festive 
black sundress with pink embroidery she’d bought in a thrift store for about $4, I think. First she tried a black short-sleeved pullover top over the whole thing. Nice, but no pizazz, although it fit her well. So next she tried a black cardigan with black velvet trim and little black velvet bows on the pockets for an elegant yet casual touch. Adorable! I voted for this look, but I got outvoted — she ended up ditching the dress idea and instead headed to the party in her usual but very chic college-student look of jeans, boots, scarf and sweater. And here’s the thing: These two black tops are mine, and she looks great in them. However, if I wore this sundress, I would only look ridiculous. Why is that? My daughters borrow from me and look fantastic (better than I do in the same clothes, that’s for sure) but the reverse does not hold true at all. If somebody can figure this out and fix it, I’d be so grateful! In the meantime, I continue to be in awe of both my daughters’ creativity and style. I’m in constant hope that some of that gets passed up to me.
Thrift Store Shopping
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When the bottom shelf rack fell out out of the refrigerator door not once but twice a few days ago, I knew we were heading into our own personal Series of Random Unfortunate Events, because this is what happened next (and I’m not even counting the fact that our upstairs heating-unit stopped working on Christmas Eve Eve and my college-senior daughter got her nose pierced in October): 1) My car needed all new tires; 2) My digital picture frame’s screen went weirdly and sort of scarily red; 3) Our Comcast Internet and local NPR station were gone for days; 4) Our new Christmas-present TV wasn’t working properly, leaving us unimpressed with big-screen high-def; and 5) The refrigerator incidents resulted in two broken bottles of wine and one smashed-to-bits shelf. But 1) we got new tires and figured out how to set up our TV properly, 2) Comcast and NPR came back, 3) I’m working on digital-picture-frame and refrigerator-shelf replacement and 4) none of these problems required calls to or visits from plumbers, electricians, doctors, hospitals, insurance agents, fire fighters or police officers and all loved ones are happy and healthy and accounted for, so what am I complaining about?
This is our house. Okay, not really. But it’s a house my husband 
found and wanted me to look at it and think about, which is a big deal for us because we don’t have an “our” house. The house we live in now is the one my ex- husband and I bought when we first moved to Alabama almost 15 years ago. He and I got divorced shortly after, so for most of those 15 years my two daughters and I have lived there in single-parent female-centric bliss. Now my husband and I have been married for 4 1/2 years, the girls are pretty much out on their own (one married with her own home and the other a college senior) and it’s time for our own place. I mean, he’s a great sport and hasn’t minded that the house is full of girly stuff and remnants of my ex-husband and doesn’t really reflect his style at all. So when he said, “Hey, I found a house I like. Let me show you,” I wasn’t sure what to expect. But I love this house! I love all the little nooks and crannies. I love that it looks different and comfortable all at the same time. Of course, I’d change 
Mississippi, about three or four times a week. It’s a pretty drive — peaceful, really, as long as you watch out for deer who think they can make it across the road before you do and tourists who drive at 35 miles an hour because they Don’t Want To Miss A Thing — but it can get boring. So whenever there’s roadwork or a washout or something that results in a detour on our regular route, we’re excited to see something new. (I know, I know — we should get out more.) This past December, rains washed out a drainage culvert and drivers now have to detour off the parkway near Pratts, Mississippi — a short drive through beautiful farmland and houses ranging from the big and stately to the small and not-so-much. My husband and I especially were delighted to find the detour takes us past this store/market/gas station that literally is the only place to stop and refuel car and body for miles around. It’s a spacious building on a concrete floor, with shelves of mechandise in the middle, a kitchen on the side and tables up front. Think Mississippi’s 2009 version of an old-fashioned general store, with a distinct lean toward maleness. You can get a Coke (you know that’s Southernspeak for any cold carbonated drink), a freshly sliced bologna sandwich, groceries, beer, dog food and even presents such as Civil War figurines in case you’re headed to Mama-and-them’s for Christmas and you forgot to do your shopping. The store must be a community gathering spot because it’s bustling with guys who’ve been hunting and four-wheeling every time we’ve stopped in, and there’s usually somebody in the kitchen with some wonderful-smelling barbecue that makes me wish I could eat messy food and drive at the same time. We love it, and we’ve decided that when the road work is done and we can get back on the Parkway, we’re sticking with this detour. I just hope the milk situation resolves itself soon!
If you’re looking for some of the most beautiful and creative jewelry ever, go to etsy.com and check out the offerings from birdznbeez. A 
jewelry maker in the Midwest, she puts together lovely whimsical pieces that will make you smile. For several years, my two 20-something daughters and I have been collecting jewelry with birds, and when my son-in-law found birdzNbeez on etsy, he knew we would all love it. He was right! We ordered several things for Christmas gifts, and they were even more amazing in person than in photographs. And prices are right, too. You know similar jewelry in upscale boutiques is almost three times as much. But the problem is that now I: 1) Want more of this jewelry; 2) Want more clothes to match the coolness factor of these pieces; and 3) Want more places to go to show off my new clothes and jewelry. Or, I could just send y’all to the Web site and live vicariously through your purchases. I wonder which option my husband would prefer …
If you need a new idea for a healthy breakfast to start the first Monday of 2009, try this open-faced banana sandwich my college-age daughter made almost every morning she was home for the holidays. I promise, it’s yummy and probably not so bad for you — I mean, it’s got fruit, right? First, turn on the broiler to about 400 degrees. Then, toast some good sturdy bread to medium — just enough so it’s not soft. Spread the bread with peanut or almond butter and top with sliced bananas. Then sprinkle with brown sugar and cinnamon and broil until the sugar has caramelized. If you don’t overload the toast, it’s a great grab-and-go meal. If you can sit down and enjoy, add some cold milk and fresh fruit. And watch carefully while it’s under the broiler because it burns and then you have crunchy dots of black brown sugar instead of lovely pools of liquid goodness. Ask me how I know this. Go ahead, ask. Okay, I’ll admit that today is the first time I’ve made this by myself since she’s gone back to school, and although my daughter patiently and carefully took me through the steps of making this on my own, I blew it. A toasted banana/peanut butter disaster. Little crunchy bits of burnt brown sugar everywhere. Sigh.
— Tuesday — but now that our tree is (finally) down and all the wreaths and garlands and Santas are packed up and I’ve broken almost every one of my resolutions already, I’m sort of over the holidays and ready to move on … to another holiday, that is. Does your space feel empty without all those Christmas festive touches? I’m always glad to get my house back after turning it over to Christmas for a month, but I miss the whimsy of holiday decor — plus, it covers up the cat hair 
and distracts from the dust. So I keep the wintery things (snow people, mainly) out and gradually add red heart-y Valentine’s Day things, such as those cute heart “trees” and heart candles I put on the mantle after taking off the Christmas stars and angels. On the table by our front door — my absolute favorite piece of furniture in our whole house 
because so far in almost five years of marriage it’s the only one my husband and I have bought together — I’ve got a couple red and wintery serving pieces plus red and green candles I keep out until spring just because I like to. I added a touch of 
Valentine’s Day: A wonderful mini folding photo album out of handmade paper that my younger daughter found at Sojourns, a Fair Trade shop in Birmingham, Ala., and put in my Christmas stocking. Adorable! In our kitchen, I dismantled the bowl of shiny Christmas ornaments that sat on the table and replaced it with three red heart candles. I love the clean look of red on white. Every year around this time I’m so grateful for my grandmother’s advice to always buy red. “You can use it for three out of four seasons,” she said, “and you can always find red things on sale.” So true. Thanks, Grandma. See? I was listening.
He crawls. He stands. He eats crunchy things all by himself. He wears 12-18 months clothes. He laughs at silly things. He laughs at not silly things. He turns pages. He points for more. He bites. He smiles at the phone. He chases the cats. He opens drawers. He climbs up stairs. He pushes buttons. He turns dials. He crashed into my lap to sit. He wraps his arms around my neck.
interact. I do more than just change him and feed him and burp him. I tell him “no.” I cuddle him when he’s sick. I limit TV time. I make choices about the food he eats. I point to pictures and tell him they have words to match. I hold out my arms for him to reach for. I let him cry. I try not reward pouting or fits … not that a 9-month-old has many. I make him interact with other children. I make him stick to his nap times.
Happy New Year! Hope everybody’s 2009 got off to a great start. It’s the seventh day of Cathy’s 
New Year Countdown and we’re going on to Jan. 6, or Twelfth Night, mainly because I have a real problem packing it all up and letting the holidays go. I mean, why not celebrate as long as possible? (Or at least, as long as your neighbors will tolerate your yard decor. ) My husband and I kept the party going with a rockin’ New Year’s Eve on Wednesday night. He’s a newspaper sports editor, and as usual, he was at the office until after midnight as the paper went to press, so like the good wife I am — no, really! — I hung out with him there. We watched the ball drop on the copy-desk TV and toasted each other and the New Year with sparkling grape juice. This was one of the first New Year’s Eve we didn’t go out or at least have a family party, but, strangely enough, our daughters (one married and a mom and the other a college senior) seemed to have better things to do than hang out with the old folks, so we were on our own. And I kind of liked it! Check back tomorrow for day no. 8 in Cathy’s New Year Countdown for a great tip on finding inspiration for 2009.
Demos’ Restaurant opens in Florence, Alabama, at 4 p.m. on Sunday, Dec. 28. If you want downhome comfort food at a great price served with a smile, this is the place to be. The family-owned and -operated business started in Murfreesboro, Tennessee and has three other locations around the Nashville area. When my mother-in-law still was able to get out and about, Demos’ in Murfreesboro was her favorite place to eat. In fact, even though she hasn’t been there for several years, the Demos’ folks still remember her and ask about her — that’s the sort of people they are and that’s the sort of attitude they’ve brought to Alabama. Go see for yourself, order a seafood-stuffed baked potato and tell ’em Tennessee Pitts sent you. The Florence restaurant is behind Books-a-Million at 339 Seville Street (the street off Cox Creek Parkway that goes between the entrances to Kohl’s and Wal-mart). If you miss it Sunday, be there at 11 a.m. on Monday when it opens for lunch. And visit 
Coffee with Cathy 