Valentine’s Day

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chocolate-rose-0011Making chocolate roses is a simple yet impressive Valentine’s Day chocolate-rose-0031project that I promise you can do. Because I did it, and believe me, that’s saying something. Chef and caterer Emily Kelley, of Florence, Alabama, demonstrated this recently for local American Association of University Women members. To make the dough, add 1/3 cup clear corn syrup to 10 ounces melted semi-sweet chocolate. Stir until doughy. On wax paper, flatten into circle and let harden between wax-paper sheets. To make roses, peel away wax paper and cut circle into triangles. Use one triangle for one rose. Pull pieces of dough from triangle and roll into balls. Using your hands, flatten balls into thin circles. For center stem of rose, roll one circle jelly-roll style. For rose petals, fold and shape chocolate circles around stem. Make these whenever you want, store at room temperature and use them to decorate your fabulous Valentine’s dessert. Or they can be your fabulous Valentine’s dessert — they’re completely edible and taste sort of like Tootsie Rolls. White chocolate and peanut-butter flavored baking morsels would also work, although Emily was unsure about corn-syrup ratios with those ingredients.

Perfume

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perfumeI am in love with this perfume. Why had I never heard of it before? Why have y’all been rich-hippiehiding this from me? I saw the name “Rich Hippie” in the window of a new boutique that recently opened in downtown Florence, Alabama, and was immediately, like, “That is so me, really,” although I was with my husband and he pointed out that I am neither rich nor a hippie and am, in fact, a middle-aged suburban grandma who watches secretly watches Oprah. Not groovy. So the next day I ditched him and made it in to the store, Grassroots, by myself. After sampling four or five different Rich Hippie scents, I settled on Bohemian Wedding: “Chic, romantic, earthy floral with notes of Sumatran Patchouli and Italian citrus.” Yes, indeedy. “Wow, you really are a hippie if that’s the one you like the best,” the store owner said, admiringly. Or maybe that was just respect in her voice for One So Old. Hard to tell. I didn’t tell her, however, that I missed out on the late 1960s-early 1970s Flower Child-era by a few years. I could have been a great hippie and I so wanted to be, but my parents made me go to bed by 8 p.m. — 9 p.m. when I got a little older. And by the time I got old enough to embrace hippie-dom, everyone had gone all corporate and instead of love-ins we went to discos. Sigh.

concertI just realized I bought this Rich Hippie perfume on the 40th anniversary of the Beatles’ rooftop “Let It Be” concert. In concert-crowdfact I bought it as I walked back from a recreated homage of that concert a group of local musicians performed on the rooftop of our downtown drugstore.  Most of us watched down below from an alley. Matt McKean, the photo editor at our local daily newspaper, the TimesDaily, took these pics. (Go to www.timesdaily.com to see more.) In the crowd shot, I’m in the lower right-hand corner — well, half of me is — in a light blue jacket just above a woman in a black jacket. It was cold but great fun, even though I wasn’t wearing my Rich Hippie then. But I think I will from now on. If you want to get in touch with your inner Rich Hippie, go to http://www.rich-hippie.com/.

History

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wright-houseMy husband pointed out, rightfully so, that when I talked about the wfm_rosenbaum_house_interiorFrank Lloyd Wright book in yesterday’s post I forgot to mention one of the main reasons my book club read it in the first place: There’s a Wright house in northwest Alabama. In fact, there’s only one Wright-designed house in Alabama, and it’s the only Wright house in the Southeast that’s open to the public. But even with that pedigree, it’s sort of a hidden treasure — a little gem of a place that delights and entrances everybody who comes to visit. The Rosenbaum House in Florence, Alabama, sits on a bluff of the Tennessee River. It was built in 1939 for Frank (who worked in the family movie-theater business and also was a college professor) and his wife, Mildred (a model from New York City) Rosenbaum. Wright never visited the house, but he also designed an addition in 1948 when the family had grown to four sons. I love going through this house. It seems to have gently sprung out of its two-acre site, and inside every single inch of space is functional and efficient. And  the main building-material of cypress wood smells so good! If you’re ever anywhere near Florence, it’s worth a trip. Learn more at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosenbaum_House and http://www.wrightinalabama.com/.

Newspapers

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Newspapers have always been a huge part of my life. I grew up watching my parents read the big-city daily that came to our driveway every evening and checking our small-town weekly for school lunch menus and ballgame wrap-ups. I met my husband while working at the college newspaper. My first jobs as a college graduate and later as a newly  divorced woman and single mom were as newspaper reporters. My husband is a newspaper sports editor, I’m a newspaper columnist and we pick up newspapers everywhere we go. Am I worried about the future of newspapers as the industry faces crisis and change? Hmm … maybe. Read my column today at http://www.timesdaily.com/article/20090130/ARTICLES/901300301

Books

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loving-frank1You must put “Loving Frank,” by Nancy Horan, on your must-read list. It’s the story of Frank Lloyd Wright and Mamah Borthwick Cheney and their clandestine and infamous love affair. The pair fell in love after Cheney and her husband commissioned a house from Wright. Both Cheney and Wright left their spouses and children for the other, but Cheney — an intelligent, educated and talented woman — suffered the most. She lost her children, was the subject of scorn and scandal and could barely support herself as a single woman. This is billed as an historic novel, but don’t let that put you off. Usually I’m irritated by authors who try to retell actual facts with their own creative spin, but it works here because of Horan’s extensive research and obsession with the truth. Horan lets Cheney’s voice — one that history and public relations seem to have silenced — come through strongly and authentically. This isn’t what Horan thinks happened, but what, as we come to know Cheney, must surely have happened. It’s a compelling love story, an intriguing look behind the historic facts and a damning treatise on the restrictions and injustices that hampered American women just 100 years ago.

Just a note here: In the interest of honesty, I did read this book. For one of my book-club meetings. Which I missed. Because I thought the meeting was on Tuesday night when it actually was on Wednesday night. But when I showed a night late at the house of my friend who was hosting the meeting, she graciously poured me a glass of wine anyway and we sat and talked about everybody who had been there the night before. In a good way, of course.

Interior Decorating

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furniture-jan-2009-004

After my husband and I got married five years ago at the ripe old ages of 46, he just sort of moved his toothbrush and sock drawer into the house where I’d lived for a decade as a single mom raising two daughters. As a couple, he and I never have created a household together from scratch and I’m constantly trying to figure out what his “style” is before we do that. We’re probably distinct opposites — on everything. For instance, he’s a newspaper sports editor who watches “CSI,” listens to Rush Limbaugh and says his favorite movie is “Roadhouse.” I’m a freelance writer who watches “Survivor,” listens to NPR and adores the original “Sabrina,” although we both like “Good Eats,” REM and “Raising Arizona.” Hmmm. You see my dilemma. I can’t figure out how all that translates to one unifying home decor.  But I keep trying. On a recent meander through a furniture store, I asked him which — if either — of these two candle fixtures he liked better. Naturally, it wasn’t the one I liked. However, there is hope because we both said the one we didn’t pick wasn’t all that bad. Maybe after five years of marriage, we’re becoming more alike than different. Crazy!!! But in a good way.

Quilts

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jims-quilt-007There were just two of us for Sunday school so we didn’t have class jims-quilt-003at my little church this past Sunday, but I learned a lesson anyway: (K)not all sermons come from the pulpit. When I got to church on Sunday morning and it became apparent only one other of the usual five or six women in our class was going to show, I contemplated going home for more coffee and Sunday New York Times. But before I could head for the door, our minister asked the two of us (our church is small so there’s no place to hide!) to finish a prayer quilt from the women’s group. The quilt is for a church member who’s fighting cancer, and our minister wanted to bless it at the service and deliver it that afternoon. My brain said, “But I have no crafting skill whatsoever and besides, I want Sunday Styles and another cappuccino,” but my mouth said, “Sure! Of course! Love to!” That happens a lot at church. But I was so glad — this time, at least — that my mouth paid no attention to my brain. Turned out all the quilt needed was tying some knots, and I’m very good at tangling things up. Our church women’s group makes these prayer quilts for people who are sick and in need — when you tie one of knots you say a prayer for the intended recipient, who then gets to wrap up in cozy warmth and love. As we tied and talked, I suddenly sort of time-traveled back to old-fashioned quilting bees, where women gathered to care for each other through fabric and friendship, and I finally understood the timeless power of needle and thread. To make it even better, this quilt was for the husband of a friend of mine. I sat beside her during the church service. When our pastor blessed the quilt and announced it was for her husband, I got to hand her a tissue and give her a hug. Definitely worth the loss of a second cappuccino.

Vegetables and Flowers

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vegetable-flowers-004This is a flower arrangement to decorate the table at a typical meeting, right? vegetable-flowers-006Nope. Look closer. It’s not made of flowers. It’s made of … vegetables! Yes, these are vegetables and not flowers. The “mums” and greenery are leeks, the “paintbrushes” are green onions, the “roses” are rutabagas and turnips and the splash of organge is from carrots. Emily Kelley, a chef and caterer and educator in Florence, Alabama, has been creating vegetable bouquets like this for years vegetable-flowers-0081and recently showed fellow American Association of University Women members how to do it. She made it look easy, and really it is simple — with patience and the right equipment. For instance, the roses are slices of rutabagas and turnips shaped and toothpicked together — the slices’ natural curves create the flower, but you need a commercial slicer to get the pieces thin and consistent enough. (Emily recommended making friends with someone who has one.) The mums and paintbrushes are the bottoms of leeks and green onions cut along their natural lines. The carrots were the hardest part — she sliced them horizontally and then cut the slices in a way that each one was still intact but had individual slices in it that curved out when she toothpicked the ends together. (I know that doesn’t make sense — sorry!) Emily does all the blossoms first, then puts them into ice water to stiffen. Then, when she puts the arrangement together, she threads a bamboo skewer through the blossoms (hiding the skewers in green-onion greenery) and arranges them with florist tools such as vases, tape and foam to perpetuate the flower illusion. We were all amazed and astounded, and one young woman declared she now wanted these instead of floral decorations for her wedding!

Fashion

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coat-dress-005Surprise! I found Michelle Obama lurking in my closet. Okay, not her, really, but coat-dress-006this pink wool coat-and-dress I’d bought two or three four or five years ago from a clearance rack at a local department store that since has been consumed by a larger department store. I don’t remember how much it was but I do remember thinking it was a great deal for two pieces. My two practically-grown daughters, however, were horrified that I’d even brought it home. After I looked at it more critically, I saw their point that maybe perhaps it was too Queen Mum in a scented-handkerchief grandmotherly sort of way. However, after the First Lady’s gorgeously stunning lemongrass wool-lace outfit on inaugural day, I’m thinking that maybe my somewhat sparkly pink version isn’t so bad. But would people think I was copying her if I wore it as is to church this morning? Maybe I should break the pieces up, say, by hearing the coat with a soft pink turtleneck and pants. I could also put a turtleneck under the sleeveless sheath dress, or maybe a white collared blouse, and belt the dress. Hmm … some exciting potential here … like anything is possible …

Family Fun

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nolan-jan-2009-021I love these photos of three of the most important people in my life: nolan-jan-2009-0201Older Daughter holding her hands out to her son, Capt. Adorable, who is curious but cautious and unsure but trusting on his first trip down a playground slide, with Younger Daughter in the back being supportive and encouraging. And Grandma — me — is there snapping pictures, as usual. This answers the age-old question, of course, of how many people does it take to get a 9-month-old baby down a slide. I’m sure this same adoring fan club will follow Capt. Adorable around as long as he’ll let us. I mean, what kid wouldn’t want his mom, his grandma and his aunt to applaud and record and document every proud moment???