That Old House

Color Of The Year

2012-01-27T12:18:00.001-05:00

Not to be thought old-fashioned and out of date,
That Old House has requested that she be snazzed up
with the 2012 Color Of The Year.

According to Pantone, ~~the self-proclaimed color dictators~~
the company that makes millions selling, well, colors (how do
they do that?), the 2012 Color Of The Year is Tangerine Tango.

Oh dear.

That Old House is 180 years old.

Orange is harsh on an aging complexion.

Does deep orange belong in an old farmhouse?

I made a quick loop around That Old House, checking

if there are already some trendy Tangerine-colored bits and bobs here and there.

There's this, on the walnut cupboard in the kitchen:

Also in the kitchen, atop Jabba the Hutch, two pumpkin tureens:

I found a hard, dry navel orange, a refugee from the toe of a Christmas stocking.

I guess I can snazz that up for a little orange zzziiiing.

Orange is not an easy color to live with, in large scale.

Especially when it's not Halloween.

In packets of takeout duck sauce, not so hard:

In its defense, as an accent or in accessories, strong orange is striking.

And not in a "strike me over the head with a baseball bat" kind of way. Striking in a good way.

For instance, this, from Pantone's very own website:

A bergere chair upholstered in that Tangerine Tango color,

which is a very red orange, against a soft blue wall.

Why, hush my puppies, if that blue wall don't look a whole lot like

the color that is Benjamin Moore's 2012 Color Of The Year.

Wythe Blue.

This, from Benny Moore's website: Wythe Blue walls in a dining room:

As luck would have it, we are already on trend with this trendy color.

It's all over the walls of our second-floor hall bath.

Wythe Blue is easy on the eyes, easy to live with, and while it's been named

2012 Color of the Year by its maker, it's one of their Historic Colors. Interesting.

I have my plan in place.

I will just tell That Old House that she'll have to be content with

wearing at least one of the 2012 Colors of the Year.

What about you?
Do color trends and fads influence your choices in your home?
Do you have plans to incorporate Tangerine Tango in your decor?

There's no right or wrong answer to that; whatever pleases, works.

Have a marvelous weekend! I'm hoping we are almost done with rain for a few days.

But right now, I'm going to take care of that rapidly drying orange before it's too late. -- Cass

LINK PARTIES!

At My Romantic Home, it's Show And Tell Friday. Click here!

Feathered Nest Friday makes its home at French Country Cottage. Click here!

The Charm of Home features Home Sweet Home on Fridays. Click here!

It's Vintage Inspiration Friday at Common Ground. Click here!

LaurieAnna's Vintage Home is the place for Farmhouse Friday. Click here!

A Thrifting Find, and a Van Full of Furniture!

2012-01-26T20:50:00.002-05:00

On this drizzly Thursday, my friend Emily and I
skipped happily off into the Land of Thrifting. And lunch.

But first, we tootled down to my antiques booth, to replenish it.
Some larger pieces of furniture were sold, making room for new things.

We brought down the tool chest I got last week:

We still don't know everything about this chest, but I'm pretty sure it's a machinist's
or carpenter's chest, possibly made by the carpenter himself, or at least custom made.
It was not made in a factory. The inside lid may have once held two small mirrors,
to facilitate removing filings or shavings from eyes. We are kind of sad to see it go.
The lock is missing, but you can see where a rod went through all the drawers and
locked everything up nice and securely. What was in those drawers was valued.

Also the little washstand or telephone table or whatever it is:

And we brought down a chair I picked up awhile ago,

that my sister's been storing on her sunporch.

Here it is, happily reclining on its back in my minivan:

Through the wonders of computer fiddling,

I rotated another shot, to make it look almost as if it's

standing upright. The fabric is tapestry, in perfect condition.

The old Craigslist picture is the best.

The chair is big, it's comfy, it's in perfect shape, and if you squint

it looks like it's rustic French Empire or Directoire style.

Don't forget to squint.

Now . . . did these things end up in the booth?

They did not. The sold furniture is still there, not yet picked up. No room.

(Le sigh.)

**********************************

So, Emily and I, with the furniture still in the van, hightailed it to

a great little thrift shop, off the beaten path, and it did not disappoint.

Ah, the beautiful Johnson Brothers pattern called Indies Blue.

I have scads of it. So does Martha at Linderhof blog.

And now I have this:

A pot. Coffee? Tea? Not sure, don't care.

In gorgeous condition, not a mark on it.

It cost me $6. Six American greenbacks. Six stinkin' bucks!

Oh, be still my heart.

*****************************

I picked up a few more things at this thrift shop.

A glass candleholder. 3 orphaned saucers. A book.

And this:

A painted plate, blue and white, and just right for hanging in my kitchen.

I like its corny scene, windmill and tulips and all.

That's all, Folks! -- Cass

Linky Parties for Thursday:

At Tales From Bloggeritaville, it's Leigh's Thrifty Thursday. Click here!

At From My Front Porch To Yours, it is Treasure Hunt Thursday. Click here and visit!

No Minimalist Here hosts Open House Party Thursdays. Click here!

At Coloradolady, Suzanne hosts Vintage Thingies Thursday. Click here!

January Nonsense

2012-01-25T15:32:00.000-05:00

Ah, January.
That month between Christmas and . . . not-a-heck-of-a-lot.
We don't get a really good holiday now until Easter.
Valentine's Day? Eh. Flowers, candy, yadda-yadda, done.

So, January.

Not my favorite month of the year. Not Dion's, either:

Saturday's snowfall.

It's the first month of a new year, every year, and I don't like change.

I don't like having to write a different number on the date line of my checks.

I don't like the feeling that the worst winter weather is still to come,

and that the fun part of winter is already over with.

Yeah. I can get a little crabby in January.

It helps to find things to laugh about.

Like, de-Christmas-ing the house.

You know I love Christmas trees, and have a really hard time taking them down when January 6th

has passed. My good and patient husband Howard has found a way to avoid having the trees still up

and dropping needles on St. Patrick's Day; he takes them down himself,

and I don't even have to watch the awful carnage if I don't want to.

It's how we go from a holiday riot of trees, to this . . .

a stripped down parlor badly needing a midwinter makeover:

Howard does the trees. I get the rest of the Christmas bling.

After I think I've got it finished, I take a careful walk around the house to see what I've forgotten.

This year, I checked the house several times, declared it Christmas-free,

and it wasn't until the next day that I noticed this:

Yeah.

The front staircase, for crying out loud! How could I have walked past it over and over again,

without noticing that it was still festooned in lovely crispy-dry pine roping and giant red bows?

Don't answer that.

I probably don't want to know the answer.

Also, don't light a match.

Have a great Wednesday, and if there's snow where you are, I feel your pain.

Ours fell on Saturday -- about 5 inches -- and is pretty much all gone now.

Yay! Green(ish) grass!

I and my dog rejoice.

A Happy January Day to you! -- Cass

Ramblings From A Fevered Brain

2012-01-20T20:39:00.002-05:00

It is Friday, and it's getting late in the day,

and I have spent most of my time today on the sofa in the study,

watching television, which reminds me of why I never watch

television during the day unless I am sick.

Which is what I am today.

Sick. Or, sick-ish. Tired, draggy, and running a persistent little fever that started Thursday afternoon.

My get-up-and-go, got-up-and-went.

Too draggy to do a post about The Mystery Chest I bought on Wednesday.

That might take thought. Too much work!

But I'm not too lazy to drag out a few old pictures, and write around them.

Ah, one bad movie just ended. A second is about to begin.

I think I'll check The Weather Channel, as we're supposed to get some of this stuff on Saturday:

Bright note: Snow is lovely when you are inside the conservatory, looking out.

While it falls, it makes this lovely little tippy-tippy-tippy sound on the ceiling.

Look what I found in my picture files:

the original header for That Old House.

Yikes. I'm glad I changed it!

I have very few pictures of our front hall, taken from inside the house.

Here's one of them.

(I told you this would be rather random.)

This is like rummaging through that old shoe box full of old photos that everybody has.

But guess what? This, below, is not our kitchen. Although I wish it were.

I also wish I could remember where I found this picture,

and I apologize to whomever owns it. At least I'm not using it for monetary gain.

I just stare at it sometimes and think wicked, envious thoughts.

More ramblings from my fevered mind -- this is the as-yet-unfinished dress

our costume designer daughter Anne is currently "building" for a play.

Costume designers don't use patterns -- they make a mockup in muslin,

"draped" on the mannequin, and then they make it in the real fabric.

I could probably make an apron that way. IF it didn't have a top.

Okay, I've rambled enough, and I'm getting ready to pretend to watch the movie, but really nap.

Mr. Dion DiPoochy

wants to add something to this post:

(Dion likes those dirty jokes.)

Have a wonderful weekend!

I think I'll be mostly in the sunroom, watching some snow fall.

Hey, there could be worse things to do! -- Cass

Baby Steps

2012-01-19T15:07:00.001-05:00

If you read this blog, you already know I am cheap.
If you've read this blog for any length of time,
you probably also know that I am lazy.

So when I find a cheap piece of furniture in need of a miracle, I look first for an easy way to fix it.
In this case, by cheap furniture I mean free. See yesterday's blog.

Free washstand or telephone table. In rough shape but sturdy.
Puts the shabby in chic, that's for sure.

And by in need of a miracle, I mean in really awful condition.

See? I am not kidding.

Is there any way to handle this without having to do any actual work?

I plan on putting this little guy in my antiques booth and selling him for
hundreds and hundreds of dollars . . . Not. Maybe tens of dollars.

Howard to the rescue. No, not my husband Howard, although he rescues me all the time.
This time, it's the Howard Company, which makes wood care products, including this:

Feed-N-Wax.

The Lazy Lady's Best Friend -- a mix of waxes and a bit of orange oil.

Available on Amazon, at Home Depot, and probably at your local hardware store.

Here's what I did while watching the noon news today: I wiped on the Feed-N-Wax . . .

. . . a nice generous coat. Then, I relaxed for about 20 minutes, and followed up with a

good buffing with a clean cotton cloth, to get rid of the oily sheen and bring up the waxy gleam.

There's Dion, sound asleep, behind the table. I never wax him. Almost never, anyway.

It is not perfect, not by a very long shot. It still is beat up and, ahem, rugged.

But it does look better, and who knows?

Someone may fall in love with this little street kid and want him "as is."

If not, I haul him home again from the antiques booth, and do him up right --

melting his finish and reamalgamating it. How's that for a 64-cent word?

Or, I paint him. We'll see. But my bet is that priced right, he'll sell.

I used Feed-N-Wax on another table in December, wrote about it here.

In 30 minutes, that table went from this, stripped and dull:

to this:

I put it in my booth on a Sunday, late in the day.

It sold the very next day. Thank you, Feed-N-Wax. :-)

The only problem is that I really liked this table, and I kind of miss it. Oh well.

We have to let them grow up and toddle out into the big world, I guess.

Tomorrow -- more on The Mystery Chest from Wednesday's post:

I think we're getting close to consensus on what it is.

No Link Parties today for me -- I can't figure out where to put "ugly furniture badly restored."

Maybe I need to start my own blog party -- Cass

The Puzzle Of The Mystery Chest

2012-01-18T15:01:00.002-05:00

It's a beautiful day here in northern New Jersey, sunny and not too cold.

Beautiful -- if you don't mind wind that whips the shingles off the roof of That Old House,

and flings the neighbors' Christmas tree from the curb in front of their house,

across the cul-de-sac, and halfway down our driveway to the hedges.

See the tree? It held up remarkably well for rolling so far; the tinsel is still on it!

On this gorgeous day, I took in some gorgeous scenery.

I drove north, into upstate New York near West Point, to pick up a couple of tables from a Craigslist

listing. Yes, again . . . risking ending up in the chest-freezer-in-the-basement for the sake of, well, junk.

Came home with two scarred and well worn Pembroke-style tables,

in good physical shape except for their complexions. These gals have been around the block a few times.

Here they are, reclining in the back of my minivan, along with my other junking finds from today,

and two baskets of things needing dry cleaning. Just keeping it real. :-)

These tables will be lovely when I'm done with them. Trust me.

They've got good bones, good wood, good brasses, and intact hardware for the leaves.

The seller tossed in a very cute little washstand, or telephone table; not sure which it is.

It, too, is in need of a visit behind the Red Door at Elizabeth Arden but heck, it was free.

We like free.

Maybe I will paint it. The jury is out on this one.

It's nice and sturdy, and that is a big bonus.

Now, for the Mystery Chest!

The seller said he had a few other pieces to show me

(yeah, we've all heard that one before ....)

and what caught my eye and my imagination was this:

It's a little chest, with three very shallow drawers, a locking mechanism for a lift-up top,

what looks to me like Eastlake hardware, and a sadly over-aggressive refinishing job.

Whatever patina it once had has been stripped and sanded off, and a poly top coat applied.

Hey, we all did it back in the 70s and 80s -- lots of antique and vintage furniture lost most of its value that way.

This chest has two square thingies on top. . . .

. . . that have corresponding square "holes" on the underside of the lift-up lid.

Yes, replacement shiny hinges. Oh what were they thinking?

Front of the chest, showing the lock (no key), and the three drawers. You can see how shallow they are.

Nice ogee molding around the top. That's the middle drawer pulled out.

So what is it?

A spool cabinet?

An artist's cabinet, or architect's? So papers can be stored flat?

The seller speculated a tea chest, where leaves would be spread out to dry.

He's wrong on that, I think. No ventilation.

And . . . what kind of wood is it made of?

It is not oak. Nor pine. It's a heavy wood.

The wood has some grain, but it's not pronounced.

There are lots of little "dots" in parts of the wood.

Maple, maybe?

C'mon, people! Put your thinking caps on and figure out

what this really cute cabinet once did for a living! -- Cass

Visit Susan at A Southern Daydreamer for Outdoor Wednesday. Click here!

Estate Sales, Craigslist, and A Daughter In The Trunk

2012-01-16T12:11:00.000-05:00

So our daughter Anne may regret having come home this weekend.

It was a hunter-gatherer weekend for the booth, but Saturday was a bust.
We went to an estate sale at a big 18th century farmhouse.

Of the few things we might have wanted, all were priced way too high.
I am beginning to think I am not going to waste time on local estate sales;
prices are generally what this cheapskate thinks are too high. It's Craigslist and auctions for me.

But we did enjoy looking at the house, which was amazing.

And much larger inside than it looks on the outside.

Anne took pictures with her phone inside the house.

Keeping Room; check out those floorboards!

Looking up the center hall stairs. I've seen this same delicate handrail and balusters in other 18th century houses in N.J.

Upstairs hall; look at those boards.

More stairs, handrail, hall. It's domestic sculpture.

One of the many bedrooms.

The other side of the Keeping Room.

A Study, lines with bookcases and a built-in bar. In a newer wing of the house, which also housed a kitchen.

The study and the kitchen were in the wing you can glimpse on the right in this picture.

There's also a barn on the property. This is one big homestead!

But we did get to see a part of New Jersey that was new to us but obviously,
from the age of the houses, not new to New Jersey.

What a beautiful old house.

******************************

On Sunday, after church, we picked up a vintage French country style dining room table (Craigslist!)

that I hope to sell on eBay. It is huge; with its 3 leaves it stretches to 10 feet long. Lovely table.

Getting it in the back of the van would have been easy, except we had one Stow-and-Go seat up.

Where Anne was sitting. So, we put that seat down, slid the table in, and . . .

had nowhere for Anne to sit for the 30-minute ride home. What to do?

We considered strapping her to the roof of the minivan but, not being enthusiastic

about that plan on a 15-degree day, Annie crawled in under the table, and just lay down.

We took back roads home. She survived.

We were not stopped by the local constabulary and ticketed for Bad Parenting.

Hi Mom! Thanks for the ride home!

Howard realized that it was the first time since she was born that

Anne rode in one of our cars, without either a car seat or a safety belt around her.

*******************************

But this 3-day weekend is not over yet.

This morning, Anne helped Howard carry a highboy to my minivan and load it in.

And he closed the van hatch on her head. Ouch.

It's only January, and we're already in the running for Parents Of The Year.

Anne's helping me bring the highboy to my antiques booth today, and I've promised to treat her to lunch.
I hope she doesn't get food poisoning. -- Cass

P.S. These are also going in the booth:

Milk glass goblets, and Avon ruby glass goblets and matching decanter.

There were 12 milk glass pieces when I bought them (from a Craigslist listing) and when I unpacked them, there were 13. I have no idea how that happened, but I'm pretty sure I'd have known if the little devils had reproduced themselves in amongst the pink packing peanuts.

I think I'd have heard the clanking, and the giggling.

By the way, this is also the highboy that's waiting for its trip to the booth,

so I better leave the computer and fire up the minivan. Have a great Monday!

Egg Cups, Church Keys, Pyrex Bowls and S&Ps . . . .

2012-01-11T20:42:00.003-05:00

. . . that's where I spent my Wednesday,
amidst egg cups, church keys, Pyrex bowls,
and some of the oddest salt & pepper shaker
sets that ever gave you nightmares.

I spent the day working at Somerville Center Antiques, in historic Somerville, New Jersey,
where I maintain a little booth. Now, SCA is in an old Woolworth's Store building
and on the main floor -- where my booth is -- are the more sober-sided antique and vintage wares.

But downstairs, it's funky time.

You don't believe me?

I wouldn't argue with this lady, and she says it's the truth.

So I'm going to take you on a little tour of "Downtown" at Somerville.
(No pictures of my own booth -- it's looking too bare right now!)

The downstairs dealers specialize in 20th century vintage, with loads of kitchen wares,

clothing, paper ephemera, old books, records (remember them?), lots of barware and glassware,

and of course, salt and pepper shaker sets.

I wasn't too sure what these were supposed to be, so I turned one around.

Yes, they are salt & pepper shakers. Yes, they are tomatoes. Yes, they appear to be wearing babushkas.

Was everyone starting cocktail hour at noon in the 50s and 60s?

Poodles were a big deal back then.

This charming poodle couple . . .

. . . seems to have had a love child.

There are all sorts of things here.

Old games.

Bizarrely funky old porcelain flights of fancy, as seen below.

Seriously, who at that corporate meeting said, "Sure! Let's manufacture this!"

Isn't it amazing? It's huge, too. Wouldn't you just love to wrap this up as a wedding present?
Hmmm . . . I've got a nephew getting married in March. . . .

Love this glassware with the thick gold banding.

What a gorgeous tablescape it would make!

The furniture upstairs runs more to the mahogany and cherry;

downstairs it's Deco, or 50s vinyl and chrome, or . . . painted vintage.

The vintage kitchen ware stretches for miles.

Well, not miles. . . but there's a lot.

Even a pink electric range. How sweet!

Vintage kitchen tools, tableware, even appliances.

Scotty dog glasses!

A very pretty single-width kitchen cupboard.

With a beautiful original-equipment design on the glass.

Here's where a whole lot of old egg cups and

church keys (bottle openers) come to find new forever families:

Rolling pins, cast iron skillets, colanders, serving and stirring spoons, bottles . . .

. . . loads of dishes!

Trays, cookie jars . . .

. . . and more cookie jars!

And remember that nightmare salt & pepper shaker set I mentioned in the beginning?

Here it is.

Twin devils, for your dining enjoyment.

You know, I would buy these for our next family Christmas grab bag,
but I'm a little afraid of them. Maybe more than a little.

And that was my Wednesday! How was yours? -- Cass

At Sue's It's A Very Cherry World! blog,
it is Rednesday ... so click here, people!

P.S. Tomorrow I start searching for more furniture for my booth, upstairs at SCA. It's looking bare again!

Two Years, and 9,000 Gallons of Paint Later . . . .

2012-01-09T13:48:00.000-05:00

When we bought That Old House in 2008,
she was yellow, with white trim,
a green front door, and green shutters.

On a snowy afternoon shortly before Christmas 2009, my daughters and I decorated

the front door with white pine roping, little white lights, and yards & yards of wired red ribbon.

Tarting up the front door went a long way in disguising the worn and chipped paint on the house,

the scarred pillars, the scuffed porch deck and steps, the general shabbiness of the house's exterior . . .

but

what did an even better job of disguising all those uglies was the paint job That Old House

got in June 2011, when she was given a whole new wardrobe: all white, with shutters and front door

trim so darkly green that the color looks black, and a brilliant yellow front door.

This year's front door roping went up against the now-dark transom and sidelights,

and even though we forgot the red ribbons this time (I save them from year to year),

it was enough bling against the pristine white and the austere near-black.

Oops. A bit of roping flopping off the porch railing.
What messy people must live here.

December 2009: our front door.

December 2011: our front door.

Now normally, I am not one for change.

I like things to stay as they are.

But I am OK with this metamorphosis.

White and very dark green are the original colors of That Old House,

found beneath many coats of paint during the scraping last June.

So I guess we didn't really change much, after all. -- Cass

At Between Naps On The Porch, it is Metamorphosis Monday! Click here to visit.

Howard Meets Mabel, and Dinosaurs Visit Bethlehem

2012-01-08T14:57:00.000-05:00

It's coming on dusk this cloudy Sunday afternoon.
Our Christmas lights are gone from the fence and the grape arbor, but I
asked Howard to leave the lights and pine roping around the front door.

For a little while.

C'mon in, take a look around.

Inside That Old House, it is still Epiphany, and the Three Wisemen are visiting Bethlehem.

So is a Dinosaur.

Yes, we know that humans and dinosaurs did not roam the Earth at the same time,

but with the Lord -- for whom time and space are all laid out as one -- anything is possible.

A few years ago, Anne fashioned a model dinosaur for her sister Alida, who was beginning to study

for a Ph.D. in Philosophy in California. Anne glued all the little fiddly wood bits together,

and then covered the Dinosaur with philosophical quotes. Dozens of them.

She added an academic stole and a mortarboard for good measure.

I'm not sure who first put the Quotasaurus in the Creche -- it might have been me --

but it's a fixture now. Until it finally goes to live with its rightful owner.

********************************

On Saturday, Howard removed the lights and ornaments

from the Fraser Fir Christmas tree in the sunroom.

Dion supervised.

This tree held up remarkably well, stayed perky all through the season,

and shed very few needles even as it was being dragged out the door to its doom.

It is still sad to see a beloved Christmas tree tossed to the curb.

I hope its evergreen friends who are still planted aren't taunting it.

So . . .

this is why I wanted the door lights to stay up, and lit, just a little while longer.

I didn't have any pictures of the whole house.

Once again, I tied up the Christmas tree trimmings with red ribbon, and used that instead of a wreath

on the front door. Because wreaths cost money, and I am (sometimes) thrifty.

The people who sold us That Old House live behind us now, in a bigger house they had built.

I still think ours is the Queen, even if only because of her age.

She does need her shutters back, though, doesn't she?

I dragged my poor husband all over creation today, buying old furniture to sell,

and a corner cupboard to use for display, for my booth at Somerville Center Antiques.

Howard is Mr. Patience, thank goodness.

He stayed calm when meeting Mabel, the giant German Shepherd, at one house way up in the hills;

Mabel didn't take kindly to strangers, let's just leave it at that.

(From the sound of her deep voice, I think ol' Mabel may have a bit of a hormone problem.)

Plus, that corner cupboard for the booth had to be carried down 3 staircases. Or was it four?

That's it for today! Nothing exciting. Just a little slice of life at That Old House,

where Christmas is getting tucked back into its boxes, and we are ready for the rest of Winter.

Not.

Resolution? Keep following the Star, with or without a Dinosaur at my side. -- Cass

Farewell Christmas, Hola 2012

2012-01-07T12:14:00.000-05:00

I took a look around our neighborhood late last night.
We are not the only ones with our Christmas lights still blazing.

So please, come in . . . if you can get past our fierce guard dog . . .

for a glimpse of what we've been up to this Christmas.

Which is mostly . . . eating, at least according to this post!

(Ha ha! Just noticed the empty box leaning on the stairs.

It's already been recycled; this picture is from New Year's Eve.)

Back we go, to the week before Christmas.

When we celebrated Chanukah.

That Old House gets her money's worth out of the winter holidays, that's for sure.

For years our girls have timed their Christmas visits home

to be here for an annual Chanukah Latke dinner.

Latkes are potato pancakes, and I make the shredded kind.

And that's all we eat at that dinner -- crispy hot latkes, with sour cream and applesauce.

Most of the traditional Chanukah foods are fried in oil,

and I am sure you know why. Oil. Lamps. The miracle of the 8 nights.

I make a mean potato latke, if I do say so myself.

There are other ways to make them, but this is how we like them.

I've seen recipes for sweet potato latkes, celery root latkes, latkes with carrots,

and all sorts of other abominations . . . but not here. We are potato pancake purists here.

We also light our Menorah, and everyone teases me because I insist that the Menorah, with its lit candles,

has to stand in the kitchen sink for safety's sake if we leave it burning unattended.

And this is nuts, how?

*********************************

Christmas morning, in the Parlor, and this year . . .

the joy of a third kid. (A fourth if you count Howard.)

A robotic arm for Howard from Anne, who has promised to help him assemble it.

Josh sporting his new hat from me, and one of his cigars from Howard.

We'll turn this one into a Jersey boy yet!

And what Dad wouldn't love to find bacon-flavored popcorn under the tree?

Howard in the sunroom, testing out the portable hammock I got him.

Have hammock, will travel to beach house.

I so wanted to see if I could fold it up with him still in it, 'cause then I'd have a portable-hammock-husband.

He was not game for this plan.

Christmas breakfast was something special.

Josh and Alida made Monkey Bread, a tradition with his family.

And it was so good with strong coffee!

Anne made her trademark Special Waffles, which are so light you can hardly believe they are real.

Really. They have no weight. Therefore, they have no calories.

Later on Christmas Day, we piled in the car for the drive to Peg and Bill's house.

Peggy in her kitchen, preparing a fabulous dinner. (It really was!)

I want her big Sub-Zero fridge and freezer, on the left.

She says I can't have them. Sisters are so mean.

Bill, in charge of the liquid refreshment. Always a popular guy.

And Howard, in a new Christmas sweater, telling me to stop taking silly pictures.

I didn't take pictures of all the "kids" as they were all wearing not just fuzzy slippers,

but questionable pajamas.

My girls and Peggy's decided years ago that if they were just going to be at one another's houses

for Christmas, they could just as well stay in their PJs and be comfy. And that's what they do.

I love how Peggy does her mantle at Christmas.

Their Christmas tree, and the view across the foyer to their dining room.

This year there were so few "grownups" and so many "kids,"

that the kids got the dining room and we sat in the kitchen. Ah, times change.

Ernie, the yellow Lab, filled his bed with torn wrapping paper,

and settled down for a long winter's nap with his favorite duck.

*********************************

During the holiday, Josh and Alida cooked dinner for us.

Chinese food -- the real deal.

While on their honeymoon in China in July, they took a cooking class.

It paid off. This was so delicious!

They've promised to share the recipes, so when I get them I'll pass them along to you.

They are well worth trying.

********************************

FRIDAY FISH FRY!

On the Friday after Christmas, my girls and I scooted west on Route 80, to a Cracker Barrel, for lunch.

Now, Cracker Barrel wouldn't have been our first choice for a Ladies' Lunch Out,

except it was Friday and that means Fish Fry.

Oh yeah.

Fried cod, mac & cheese, and stewed apples.

Brought back memories of the old Howard Johnson's Fish Fry nights.

Well, for me, anyway. My girls are too young to remember them.

Anne got chicken, but Alida and I got the fish.

So, how is it, Alida?

I think she likes it.

Somewhere along the way that week, I made a big lasagna.

We're talking enormous. Turkey roasting pan size.

Me, I like the corners of lasagna.

This one fed the family, and then ~~some~~ a lot of friends.

Including Alida's former college roommate Alyssa and her boyfriend Steve,

shown here posing for me before leaving for a party on New Year's Eve.

"Mom, it's freezing! Take the picture, already!"

Kids today. No guts.

And the litany of What-We-Cooked and What-We-Ate isn't over yet.

On the day after New Year's, another group of "kids" at the house, and a huge pot of chili.

This is half the chili, keeping hot in a Crock Pot.

Alida made the chili, using the Silver Palate recipe that I love, and she took this picture, too.

Multi-talented, that child.

Howard and I escaped the madding crowd, and lit a fire in the parlor.

So, it was a little fire.

That brings us to today. Saturday, January 7th.

Christmas is over, and the season of Epiphany began yesterday.

Our Sunroom tree is slated for de-decorating this weekend, and the

long trip to the curb. It will end its illustrious career as mulch for the county parks system.

The Parlor trees are faux,

so as my sister-in-law Doris says, "They can stay up pretty much . . . forever!"

But they won't. I'll peck away at them this week, and the house will lose its glimmer and glitz,

and be a Plain Jane once again. That's OK. I think it's time we started decorating for Groundhog Day.

Any suggestions?

I hope you all had the merriest of Christmases, and I wish you all the happiest of New Years.

May 2012 bring us joy, purpose, friendship, and uneventful weather!

God bless us, everyone. -- Cass

Still Celebrating!

2011-12-27T08:59:00.000-05:00

Around here, we squeeze every last bit of
Christmas out of Christmas.

So until January 6th, Ephiphany,

it is still Christmas at That Old House.

Which means there are no calories here,

and precious few chores.

Have you seen this image from the Hubble Telescope?

It's the captured image of a star being formed from gas and dust --

but it's caught the world's attention because it looks so very much like an angel.

If you don't hear some sort of soaring Christmas music, or a bit of Scripture,

in your head when you see this picture, well, I don't know what to tell you.

Gloria in excelsis Deo!

And Merry Christmas to all -- Cass

More Trees And A Lille Juleaften Greeting

2011-12-23T12:53:00.000-05:00

Today's post is really two posts in one.
The first -- a "fresh" post, continuing a little
showcase of some of the trees at That Old House.
The second -- a revised post from one year ago,
about this special day and its significance.
(Sorry, no recipes today as promised -- too much else to write about!)

***********************************

So . . . some trees!

In the Conservatory, the fresh Fraser Fir.

A little smaller than previous years' models, but we love it nonetheless!

Like all Christmas trees, an absolute bear to photograph. Especially in daylight.

So -- here is one somebody took Saturday night, at our party.
Yes, Christmas trees do look better at night!

The Feather Tree, always one of my favorites.

Love those teeny ornaments.
I did buy more this year. Don't rat me out.

By the kitchen sink, a little wiry brass tree
from daughter Anne brightens the backsplash.

In the powder room, a little tree in a Santa Boot

sports glass Santas and other tiny glass ornaments.

In the dining room, a spiral tree awaits a few special ornaments.

(They're coming! Be patient!)

Upstairs, on the second floor landing, a topiary tree.

No ornaments, just the lights; it's enough.

And in the Study, the Girls' Tree, with ornaments collected over the years.
This year, when Alida returns to California, she'll take her ornaments with her.

So if you think I go a little bonkers with trees and Christmas bling,

I come by it honestly. I am of Norwegian descent,

and we Norwegians love us a good, long, celebratory Christmastime.

Ja, you betcha!
****************************

(From December 23, 2010, with revisions for 2011.)

Norwegians, living as they do
in some pretty grim, dark and cold December weather in Norway, make the most of Christmas.

They even have a name for this day, the day

before Christmas Eve: Lille Julaften.

Translation: Little Christmas Eve.

*********************************

My mother and I always called one another on Lille Julaften.

We'd compare our Julekake, or Christmas bread,
and just spend some time away from the pre-Christmas-Eve whirlwind.

Reminiscing. Catching up. Making plans. Comparing menus.

My mother believed it was okay to still be baking or cleaning on Lille Julaften;

by the next day, Christmas Eve, chores were to be finished so you would be in a
calm and serene state of mind, ready for that night's church services,
and ready to settle your children down with gentle words and quiet stories.

************************************************

I miss my mother very much today,
this second Christmas without her.

Last year, I visited my Dad on the afternoon of Lille Juleaften.
But now he, too, is among the people I miss at Christmas.

Family. Not something to be taken lightly, or for granted.
We don't have one another forever, not on this Earth.

Now I've got some baking to do; there are only a few cookies left from last week,

and one mustn't greet Santa with stale cookies!
*********************************************

As you prepare your home, your family, yourself for the coming of the Christ Child,
I wish you peace and serenity, despite any last minute rushing that might be part of your holiday
this year (as it is part of mine!). Wrap those last few gifts, bake those last few batches of cookies,
settle down to read a cozy Christmas book with your children or grandchildren,
and know that whatever gets done, or does not get done, the Greatest Gift of all is yours.
And that is forever.

I wish you a

Glaedelig Lille Julaften!

-- Cass