If my New Year’s resolutions were to watch football and stake out the coziest corner of the couch, then Jan. 1 was a success — although my beloved SEC took a hit as both LSU and Mississippi State LITERALLY dropped the ball(s), leaving Georgia and Vandy to represent so far. Now, since I am lazy lucky enough to work part-time in places that sensibly close during the holidays, it’s back to work for me after a two-weeks vacation. My family had a super Christmas. Hope yours did the same. I did discover that my children are sneaky — Older & Younger Daughter conspired to give me an iPad for Christmas and kept the secret (after bringing husband JP into the loop) ever since Black Friday, when my son-in-law apparently was conscripted to stand in line for it after Older Daughter came down with the flu. And you know I try not to be materialistic and to believe in the simple things of love and laughter, but the iPad is THE BEST THING EVER. Ever. It only leaves my hands when it’s time to finish leftover Christmas cookies. Also, husband JP took note of my Amazon wish list and I now have a gorgeous Frank Lloyd Wright-inspired business-card holder and a lotion warmer that is the most luxurious thing ever and makes me think that perhaps a towel warmer is next. And then my mom gave us a monogrammed doormat, not knowing that JP only tolerates the open-scrollworked metal one we have now because although I think it’s the coolest doormat ever and totally says who we are as soon as you come to our front door, it does leave rust marks all over the porch’s concrete floor. So everybody was happy. And that’s a pretty good start to 2013.
Tag Archives: Frank Lloyd Wright
History
My husband pointed out, rightfully so, that when I talked about the
Frank 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/.
Books
You 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.