This is my husband’s line after John McCain has been criticized for not knowing how many houses he owns: “Has anybody asked Michelle Obama how many shoes she owns? Would she know, say, within half a dozen pairs?” Not quite the same thing, dear. What woman knows how many pairs of shoes she has? It’s completely unreasonable to expect an accurate count. So, can you tell that my husband and I are on opposite sides of the political spectrum?
But there is one thing that I do know: I don’t have enough bracelets, and I want more. These would do just fine.
A cheerful tangle of vintage glass, Lucite and acrylic charms, $68, from http://www.winknyc.com
The trouble with bracelets is that I always think that I love bracelets and that I will wear bracelets all the time, but I don’t. Wear them, that is. I do love them, but I don’t wear them. I especially think that I especially love chunky, noisy, funky bracelets, but those are the kind that I especially do not wear. For one thing, I usually don’t wear bracelets (or much jewelry at all) when I’m just hanging around the house — especially when I’m
German vintage glass beads on adjustable red nylon, $122 from http://www.twistonline.com
on the computer, since dangling beads and keyboards do not mix. When I go to church or meetings or other quiet places, I don’t wear bracelets that make noise because that’s how I
Seven Signs of Peace bracelet, by Dean Harris for Target, $59.99 at http://www.target.com
was raised. When I go out to run errands or see friends or babysit grandson Nolan Thomas Behel, I don’t wear bracelets because when I get dressed I first put on earrings and then a necklace and then I’m done because I also was raised not to wear more than two pieces of jewelry (in addition to your rings, of course) — and also because by the time I’ve coordinated earrings and necklace and lipstick and shoes and handbag, I’ve pretty much exhausted my style creativity and I’m running late, besides. So that leaves wearing bracelets to purely social occasions, which in my life means going to eat Mexican with my husband, and heavy dangly bracelets only end up in the salsa.
The exterior of The Factory is landscaped beautifully, and the renovation work to what could have been a dump is a must-see. The Factory is a great place to spend the day. I met friends there at 11 a.m. and we stayed until at least 4 p.m. — talking, eating and wandering around. It seems that’s sort of what the space is meant for: people meeting and greeting and enjoying themselves. And, oh yes, buying things!
and smell unlike any others. You’ll also find jewelry, handbags, 
notepads, T-shirts, swingy skirts, throw pillows, party goods and other treasures there. Part of your purchase price goes to causes the store supports, so you can feel even better about shopping there.
Fairgrounds when the contents of a going-out-of-business antiques mall were in the middle of a three-day sale. My mom had been Thursday and found some prizes, so I was intrigued with the chance to see her in action and pick up some secrets when she wanted to go back Friday. So, am I the only person who didn’t know how much fun auctions are? It was like a shopping trip, a history lesson and an evening of entertainment (how can auctioneers possibly talk that fast?) combined. I loved poking around the tables and shelves and boxes full of leftover antiques and junque. Then I sat, listened and learned: 1) Stay calm. 2) Set a 
bid limit and stick to it. 3) But don’t let anything you really want get away. I was awestruck by my mom’s smooth confidence and discerning eye. She would merely raise her hand a bit to bid. A horizontal slash of her hand meant a half-bid increase and a slight shake of her head meant she was done. But it wasn’t all sitting. My dad and I were the “toters,” grabbing paper and boxes to wrap up Mom’s successes — she likes glassware and linens (much easier to pack) — and then toting them out to the truck. Business as usual for my dad, but I was startled at how much physical labor antiquing demands. I got rewarded, though. My mom won this old McCoy pottery bowl I liked and then gave me one of three white-and-blue china demitasse cup-and-saucer sets she’d bought for my brother. Sold!
For most critics, the soundtrack to Cameron Crowe’s “Elizabethtown” (2005) was a far, far better thing that the movie itself. I remember sitting through the Kentucky homecoming/Western road trip/journey of self-discovery film determined to watch Elf Boy 
to the bitter end (and can we all agree that Orlando Bloom is adorably cute but only at his best when surrounded by hobbits and/or pirates?) and making a mental note to get the soundtrack. And you know how useful mental notes are: Not very. Anyway, fast forward three years, and my brother serendipitously gives me the soundtrack for my birthday. Eureka! It’s wonderful, simply wonderful — better than I remembered. You’ve got Elton John, Tom Petty, Lindsey Buckingham, Nancy Wilson, My Morning Jacket, The Hollies and others with these deeply evocative and authentically rooted songs, including a hauntingly beautiful rendition of Stephen Foster’s 1855 ballad “Hard Times” by folk-rock duo Eastmountainsouth. Go to amazon.com to sample or to add to your collection.
I’ve passed by this eye-catching yellow concrete-block 
building that advertises “pottery and ironworks” on Highway 72 in Burnsville, Miss., about a million times and wondered what it was. Today was the day I stopped to find out. The business is called Image Wholesale Inc., and it’s made up of four or so barns full — and I mean stuffed full — of pottery and iron pieces from Mexico and Texas. This is a place to spend hours poking around on a 
treasure hunt, whether you’ve got a house to furnish or an outdoors spot to decorate. There were urns, vases, tables, chairs, candelabras, wall pieces, fountains, figurines, statues and all sorts of things that I didn’t know what to do with since my own personal style of decorating is Cat Hair Contemporary interspersed with Vintage Newspaper Stackage (Southern Living, are you interested?). Anyway, this place is open from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Tuesdays-Saturdays — just make sure you’ve got plenty of room in your vehicle to transport your finds!
And then, in Tupelo, Miss., I found the first ever Western Sizzlin Express I’ve ever seen. It’s at the Horizons gas station at the Eason Boulevard exit off Highway 45 South, which only has been opened a few weeks. This is like a grab-and-go mini-Western Sizzlin. You order at the counter — the menu has the usual steak and chicken entrees and sandwiches — and then you sit down at a booth or table or a bar-like counter and the waitress brings your food on actual plates with real silverware. Or you can order takeout. I was there at about 1 p.m. and the place was hopping. Folks who work around that area don’t have much to choose from when it comes to lunch, so they’re glad to add this option in to the meal mix. Plus, it’s great for travelers. You don’t often think of steak as fast food, but apparently it’s working here. Wonder if we’ll see more of these pop up?
As I was rummaging around in my bathroom drawer, I noticed a potential disaster just waiting to happen: Do these two tubes look dangerously similar to you? I’m guessing that you’d want to be wide awake and have all the lights on when you’re choosing which to use. Yikes.
Coffee with Cathy 