Hillcrest Cottage Life

Follow Your Dream

2012-01-19T12:32:00.000-08:00

While de-cluttering the studio... contents of a drawer fell randomly upon my art desk.

Reminding me to always... Follow My Dream... and to never be satisfied with Second Place.

In the Moment

2012-01-14T08:45:00.000-08:00

Sitting at: The computer bar that used to be a wall.

Listening to: The rhythmic breathing of high school guy who slept on the couch last night.

Drinking: Community Coffee Dark Roast from my big, red LOVE mug.

Wearing: My fave 'Clayton High Yellow Jackets' sweatshirt purchased at a random truck stop in New Mexico... and my Uggs... and my red floral flannel pajama bottoms... lovely, I know.

Waiting for: My guys to get with it, so we can begin the Hillcrest Cottage Project of the Day... a new floor which will begin at the front door, come through the kitchen, and end in the laundry porch.

Patchwork Madness

2012-01-13T08:27:00.001-08:00

Hillcrest Cottage is currently experiencing patchwork madness.

While at an estate sale last weekend, I stumbled upon this ugly duckling- 70's- grandma- polyester- quilt. The patches of magenta and lime green wooed me. The 2012 "it" color of tangerine was also present.

Suddenly, a flash of creative genius came upon me!

For $3.00 I could transform my ottoman into something fun and awesome.

I am noticing a very cool trend of bright, outrageous patchwork combined with antiques and think it is the funnest thing to happen in a long time!

This is my creative contribution.

I love how it looks with the granny square afghan... another estate sale find.

Runners to Your Marks

2011-12-31T09:27:00.000-08:00

I do not do transitions well. A day like this last day of 2011 finds me melancholy.

Looking ahead to the horizon I see nothing but changes in this unknown 2012.

There will be goals achieved. There will be celebrations of huge importance.

Our oldest son will toss his hat into the air with a meaning which only a West Point cadet can understand

and have bird seed tossed at him with a zeal which only wedding guests can perform.

My youngest son will finish high school and begin college. I will finish 23 years of parenting. I will begin the days when Hillcrest Cottage's walls will quietly whisper the stories of boyhood sword fights, marathon video game parties, late night kitchen raids, and the loud laughter of family gatherings.

Yes, the walls will talk. They will talk a lot.

They will speak of the love we do here, of forgiveness, of grace, of a thousand 'I love you' moments, of acceptance and belonging. The yucky stuff, sifted through grace, will be trampled underfoot and swept aside as rubbish. The good stuff will rise as a sweet aroma full of goodness,

like the smell of bacon on a snowy morning.

In this new 2012, I will write about transitions... a lot. I will talk about finishing... a lot.

If you care to join my 2012 roller coaster ride, you may understand what it means to accomplish a worthy goal. I imagine the lows will be very low and the highs will be very high.

And... as life goes... I am certain there will be a sprinkling of unexpected sorrows and joys.

My motto for 2012 of "Finish Strong" finds its roots in Hebrews 12;1,2:

Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus.

Runners to your mark... get set... GO.

The Lettered Cottage is hosting a "Word for the Year" link party. She is encouraging us to periodically post blogs relating to our chosen word.

Fa La La La La is Here!

2011-12-22T21:12:00.000-08:00

Hillcrest Cottage is now in full holiday mode.

A sorority holiday tea with three generations of Chi Omegas: Me with my niece and my mom.

Hillcrest Cottage's kitchen has turned out several batches of fudge...

and gingerbread awaiting its icing.

The cousins have arrived home from college and afar.

Jeff has given Santa his holiday requests.

We have gathered with friends for holiday cheer.

We have attended the annual All-Academies Banquet with our West Point cadet.

And #51 has joined my Santa mug collection (Thanks Stu!)

Look Kids, A REAL Christmas Tree!

2011-12-11T08:45:00.001-08:00

And... my tree shall always... be real.

Dear Children of Christmas,

Once upon a time Christmas trees were... well... trees. Trees with sap and dead needles falling on the floor and the need to be watered. Christmas trees were not green plastic things manufactured from recycled tires. Christmas trees were not pulled out of a box at Thanksgiving to gather dust and become a semi-permanent part of the house's decor for a month and a half.

I rather like the Victorian image of the tree decorated on Christmas Eve with candles being lit for one glorious moment.

It seems incredulous to me that an entire generation of Christmas children have no concept of a real live Christmas tree!

No so at Hillcrest Cottage! This is where 'real' resides. Like it is 'real' that half of the plaster ceiling in my entryway hall nearly killed someone when it decided to crash to the floor last summer. And we are still debating the solution to this problem.

It is 'real' that Beautiful Lucy the Doodle-less leaves her furry calling cards everywhere... on the sofa... on the floor... on our clothes. Thank goodness for lint rollers!

It is 'real' that I have about 4 or 5 unfinished remodeling projects.

In contrast to Hillcrest Cottage's 'real' flaws... it is my constant prayer that everyone who walks through my rickety garden gate will feel the 'real' love and acceptance that this family who lives here has to offer.

So, for all the pre-fab Christmas tree children, this is how a real tree comes to be.

Won't you join us on our annual trip to the Christmas tree farm? It is afternoon, and the sun is lowering in the late Autumn sky. The temperature is dropping and the free hot chocolate that comes with our tree will be looking good when we are finally done.

What about this one?

Added fun on the tree farm are the live animals.

This little guy wanted a snack.

And so did he...

What a sweetie.

It was a beautiful December afternoon for Christmas tree shopping. In the midst of the hunt,we had some fun posing for farm-inspired photos.

Better than the 1970's cheap- photographer fake wagon wheel shots. This one is real.

Ha Ha! Reminds me of the Robert Louis Stevenson poem... "I have a little shadow".

My faithful helpers.

Enough fun... time to work...

Davis saws down the chosen tree... I even got a smile!

This year's tree is so different. I love it; it smells as great as it looks.

Hoping a wagon comes by to help him carry this tree.

Davis loads the tree on the hay wagon.

And... the hay wagon takes us back to the car.

To Davis' car, that is, which is covered with mud, just how he sometimes likes it.

Ta-Da!

The tree is in its stand and ready for the decorating! The real tree's aroma fills our cottage like a scented Christmas candle. You see, children, 'the scent of the tree' candle derives from the scent of a real tree.

Soon our real tree will have strings of sparkling lights and will be ready to welcome friends, and especially our college children, to Hillcrest Cottage!

It is exactly 14 days until Christmas, and Hillcrest Cottage is right on schedule.

Christmas has arrived!

Mugged... Again

2011-12-08T08:12:00.000-08:00

High in the butler's pantry of Hillcrest Cottage...

is my Christmas obsession...

The Santa Mugs!!!

Fifty Strong and anxious to begin their annual Hillcrest Cottage mugging.

The jolly mugs are winking and ready to have their empty heads filled with hot apple cider and strong coffee with real cream. That guy on the left is definitely up to something.

Now that my vintage 1960's Santa mug collection is strong and vibrant...

My Collecting Guidelines:

1.) Must say "Japan" on the bottom.

2.) Must pay less than $5.00

3.) May make exceptions to these rules whenever I want

4.) Pottery Barn is selling fun imitations this season ... couldn't resist because they are microwavable and dishwasher safe.

Christmas is tip-toeing into Hillcrest Cottage.

No Fa-La-La-La-La... Yet

2011-12-03T14:38:00.000-08:00

What a beautiful day it was for a mild- autumn- weather bike ride. As I peddled my way along the River Trail, I was celebrating the beauty of an afternoon which was complete with red leaves blowing across the path, ducks flying, and squirrels busily gathering nuts.

I had an unexpected stop when I discovered a pecan tree and my favorite nuts lying all along the path. What fun it was for this city girl to fill my bike bag with fresh pecans!

Do you know how much these things cost at Kroger?

My unexpected treasure!

My River Trail route is about 17 miles long and takes me about 1 1/2 hours to complete. This day the time included nut gathering and stopping to text a time or two.

The first half of the trail is peaceful, country riding. Blue birds, geese, mallard ducks, and deer are sighted very frequently. The second half of the ride begins with crossing the Arkansas River straight into our very busy River Market District.

Today the River Market was unusually full of tourists. Street musicians were playing Christmas carols. It was so lovely that I almost decided to get in the Christmas spirit a bit earlier than I had planned.

But...

I only Fa-la-la-la-la 2 weeks before Christmas. It is my very strict seasonal rule.

Jeff and I paused for candy bars and Gatorade at our favorite outdoor cafe. As we were again on our way, we noticed there was lots of extra traffic for a Saturday. We didn't know that...

the annual Christmas Parade was preparing to go down the street on which we normally ride.

Oops... Couldn't ride any further.

I wondered, " Should I go around the parade on another street or join the festivities?"

The unexpected sight of the parade was so fun that I almost decided once more to suspend my rule of...

"No Fa-la-la-la-la before Two Weeks Prior to Xmas" .

This is the end of the parade waiting to begin.

Guess who I saw next... I smiled... and was glad I had stopped my bike ride long enough to take their picture.

What a Jolly Couple!

Almost... almost... I was very close to suspending my rule.

What began as a fall bike ride did turn into something very different at the end, and, smiling, I was glad to be out on this beautiful Arkansas December day.

But... no tree... and no Santa mugs until next weekend.

And... my tree... will always be real!

City Girl Goes to the Country

2011-11-20T07:50:00.000-08:00

I have always dreamed of having a big, old house in the country surrounded by shady pecan trees next to flat fields extending as far as the eye can see. Ahhh... the peace and solitude that I would have!

But I wouldn't get to ride my bike to the bank and the post office and sometimes the grocery store. So, I try to think of all the good things I would leave behind if I was able to run away to my rural fantasy. Oh, how Mac the Labradoodle and Beautiful Lucy the Doodle-less would love running with no boundaries! But, oh the ticks and fleas and muddy paws.

Nothing in life is perfect... there is always the good and bad to be considered.

Yesterday, however, I was able to be country girl for a day! And this was my "home".

The Harper-Alexander House Circa 1900

I had the fun opportunity to sell my Hillcrest Cottage Art and vintage clothing and some Zombie Killer books.

My room was up this beautiful staircase.

Among my Hillcrest Cottage Collection were...

These cute recycled denim tags with in six different designs.

And also some other fun prints in flea market frames...

Love this message.

Now... may the fun, hectic week of Thanksgiving commence.

Hillcrest Cottage will be welcoming our West Point Cadet, his lovely fiance, and our other awesome college guy, in addition to the cottage regulars: high school senior boy, husband, Mac the Labradoodle, and Beautiful Lucy the Doodle-less (who will have a fun week of collecting all the extra dirty socks which will be lying around... what fun!).

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday and 'pop' culture is trying to squeeze it out by opening stores and focusing on Christmas waaaaaay too early.

May we pause from the commercialization of life long enough to:

Celebrate good food,

Family,

Fallen leaves,

Nuts,

Autumn's beauty,

and the acknowledgement that...

"Every good and perfect gift comes from above".

P.S. And to enjoy some incredible football...

How 'Bout Them #3 Hawgs! Beat LSU on Friday!!!

A Boots' Story

2011-11-13T14:00:00.000-08:00

Once upon a time when there was no internet, people could not have anything they wanted as fast as a click of a button. Amazing fact... but true.

It was very special and great fun when this horse lovin' girl was allowed to special-order my English riding boots from the equestrian store in Memphis.

And these boots were what I wore all through my junior and senior high days. Ahhh... the fun we had together!

Good-bye, Boots! I am delighted to be sending you to your new home in San Francisco. The destination makes my 1970's self very happy.

Thank you HillcrestCottage.Etsy.com for another successful sale!

The Smell of Death

2011-11-09T07:09:00.000-08:00

The black, industrial-strength trash bag lay unopened on top of the laundry room washer. Though the bag's top was tightly twisted shut, a hint of its contents drifted toward my discerning mom's nose.

It was the kind of trash bag in which dead things are usually contained.

And a whiff of death was present this afternoon.

Reaching into the back darkness, I began to slowly pull out the contents... piece by piece.

"How odd," I thought, "that this offensive odor smells more to me like life than death."

Life and death, strangely mixed, pouring forth from a common trash bag in my laundry room.

But, this was not a common trash bag, this container of death; it was packed full of dedicated discipline, strife of a worthy goal, sweat and body odor seasoned with sophomoric hopes held tightly since grade school playground days.

The bag's contents were soon exposed by sunlight twinkling through the oak's yellow leaves which dangled outside the room's window: football cleats, chinstrap guard, ankle brace, receiver gloves, half-used deodorant, dirty compression shirts, crumpled socks...

and some crushed dreams.

An emotional tsunami washed ashore; the effects of death are like that. Expected times of grief are contained... while death's small reminders overtake unexpectedly.

Tears pouring down over stinky football locker's contents?

The season had not ended as expected. At this point, however, the wins and losses were secondary to the realization of this ending: my last son finishing his last football season.

And that's how "lasts" go.

Sometimes we know we are experiencing a "last", but most times the "lasts" pass quietly without notice.

Can I remember the last night I read this 6' football player (correction... ex-football player) "Good Night Moon?" or tied his shoes for him or kissed him good night or gave him a quarter for the gumball machine? Nope... but...

I will never forget this laundry room death scene.

P.S All of Hillcrest Cottage, including Lucy, are sad:

Lucy and (Ex) Football Player Nap on the Couch

Winning Rocks and Losing Stinks

2011-10-29T07:06:00.000-07:00

Everyone knows how to win: laughing, smiling, high fives, dancing, gloating, re-telling the glory stories which grow with every telling.

But... losing well is quite another skill. To be honest, a skill that no one even wants to learn. The more I walk around this planet, the more I realize that losing is more a part of life than winning. I have lost many more times in my life than I have won!

Still... winning rocks and losing stinks.

Last year's Kinleystead high school football season gifted us with a very unexpected outcome:

This second game, season- ending, snapped- in- half clavicle.

And this broken bone produced a very sad football player:

Losing Stinks.

No words to describe the feeling of last season. To see my son pour his heart and life into this sport for an entire year: the running, the pumping iron, the off-season conditioning, the very grueling Arkansas summer two-a-days, and the dreams for a great football season... crushed in one play.

What a loss it was. If I think about it for any length of time, the emotions easily return. I still don't know why it happened, but it did.

The response my son had, however, will forever inspire me. He picked himself up when many would have quit and, as soon as that bone healed, threw his whole self back into football... for the next ten months.

There was much eating to gain weight. There was a pulled hamstring set-back. There were many team bonding experiences. There were practices and conditioning every day. When summer arrived, my son hit the field on days when the thermometer registered 130 degrees.

Nothing stopped him.

Nothing.

All that he worked toward was for this season... his last season of football...

his "Senior Football Year".

I wish I could report that the Warriors will be headed to the play-offs. I wish the dream of winning a state championship was still alive. But this has been a hard season full of losses which finds me wondering again,

"What is to be learned from losing?"

I have to say... I'm still trying to learn.

Last night was the last away game for my senior football player. It was his last time to ride the bus with his teammate brothers who he dearly loves. It was a cold, autumn night with a bright moon shining in the sky. The hope of winning was high. It was an evening full of everything a high school football game ought to be.

That's My Number Nine.

The Senior Football Moms had decided to be obnoxious and rowdy. We all had painted signs to show our guys how proud we are of them for playing hard, for not giving up, for still sticking together through adversity, for playing their very best until the final whistle, for coming back week after week.

The cheerleaders love our Senior Mom rowdiness, and so did the guys!

We loved cheering for our sons, too.

Especially me... because being loud and rowdy and obnoxious is one of my gifts.

Yea... it's true and here's some proof.

And, yet more proof. This is my serious-yellin' pose.

I like to think we Senior Football Moms had a chance to make a game-changing difference. We yelled until we had no voices left. My husband yelled too, but he was sweet to tolerate my crazy screaming. After all, it was my very last time to cheer loudly for my very last son.

We have one more game, but it is at home and: 1.) I don't yell loud at home games. 2.)It will be "Senior Night", and we parents have to walk out on the field escorted by our sons. Walking out onto the field means I have to dress up a bit and try to look cute and hold in my stomach and make sure I don't have any... umm... gray roots showing, so I won't scare all the younger moms who will be thinking, "Is that what I will look like when my child is a senior?"

Yup. Sorry to deliver that news to you.

Back to last night's game: I am happy to report that the Warriors won with a final score of 34 to 19. It was a happy night full of yelling, camaraderie, high- fiving the person next to me, even if I don't know them very well, and enjoying a sweeeeeeet win.

No one had to teach me how to celebrate because winning rocks.

After the game with our incredible Number Nine.

P.S. I have notecards and refrigerator magnets for sale in my Hillcrest Cottage Etsy Shop.

Click here to visit my shop!

The Christian Zombie Killers Handbook - A Review

2011-10-08T08:33:00.000-07:00

Being the mom of three boys and also wife, I am clearly out- numbered when the family is gathered at the Kinleystead.

"Mom, why do you always fall asleep during movies?" asked one son several years ago.

Duh? Consider the movies which have been traditional Kinley family viewing.

Several years ago I was forced to set some boundaries for myself: I don't do Antarctica, submarines, space, futuristic, ninjas, or over-the-top action and c.g. In contrast, I actually do enjoy war movies. "Saving Private Ryan" and "Blackhawk Down" being among two of my all-time favorites. My rules can be suspended on a movie-by-movie basis (but don't tell the guys this). Basically, I enjoy good character development and relationships between people; if this happens in a movie, I like it. The same would go for books, if I had the time to read a lot.

Zombies? Hummmm... not a real fan. But, when my husband writes a zombie book, it kinda becomes required reading.

Enter "The Christian Zombie Killers Handbook" (Thomas Nelson/Oct. 2011). This book is a full zombie novel and also a full non-fiction book. The book's layout alternates between fiction episodes and non-fiction chapters. Being the rebel that I am, I chose to read the fiction first.

"The Christian Zombie Killers Handbook" (the novel) is an engaging, fast-moving story with excellent character development (See? This is why I enjoyed it so much. I even cried.) The book does not tie-up every bit of the story in a nice, neat bow; something a new generation will appreciate, and something the old-schoolers will protest. Instead, the story line taunts the reader with a strong desire to know more of the Forman family and their adventures in this pre-zombie apocalyptic world created by Kinley.

As a reader, I hope there will be more of the Forman story in the future.

I have already stated that I am not a zombie fan, so I zeroed in on the relationships - particularly the strong bond between the two brothers and also the sons to their mother. I must repeat: excellent character development!

The graphic novel illustrations at every episode's beginning clearly set the story up as tongue-in-cheek with several laugh-out-loud comic relief sections. It is a serious story, but not to be taken too seriously; I liked this!

The story is not "cliche", but is "classic", and there is a huge difference. The author draws from zombie culture enough to be a credible zombie writer but does so with his own unique twists and interpretations. This book is Jeff Kinley's zombie world, and he is in charge. I am certain that zombie enthusiasts will enjoy discussing their likes and dislikes of what zombies "should/should not" do and be. And for the zombie peeps that is part of the fun.

For me, I am probably not gonna add "zombies" to my must-not watch or read list... yet... because "The Christian Zombie Killer Handbook" shattered all my expectations of what I thought a zombie novel would be.

Stay tuned for my review of "The Christian Zombie Killers Handbook" - the non-fiction.

Senior Football, Homecoming, & Zombies

2011-10-05T06:46:00.000-07:00

The last of my three sons is a high school senior; a pregnant statement filled with a wide range of emotions.

First came...

The Senior Portrait.

And, my senior's eighteenth birthday.

Hillcrest Cottage is in a season packed to the rafters with football. The elation of winning and the frustration of an over-time defeat have been our experiences. We have cheered, we have lost our voices from screaming, we have high-fived the stranger sitting next to us, and we have made the long drive home from an out-of-town loss.

The Captains: Number Nine Belongs to Hillcrest Cottage

Nothing could be more fun than a high school homecoming parade. Grade schoolers scramble for candy tossed their way. Parents line the street with the cameras clicking rapidly. Homecoming maids, football players in cool convertibles driven by their coaches, the marching band, and the class joke-sters ride the floats as only joke-sters can!

It's the heart of Americana. Images and memories to be etched onto the lifetime hard drive.

Number Nine in a Suit

That Wave Was for Mom

Switching gears very quickly... my husband's newest book is releasing this week. It is a rather unique offering.

Christian Zombie Killers Handbook

Explore the website to find out: 1. How to get a book. 2. To download 11 free zombie-inspired indie-songs. (Zombie fan or not, the music is very fun. I have been enjoying zombie tunes by musicians from Denver, NYC, Dallas, and, of course, Little Rock.) 3. How to bring a Zombie Killers Weekend to your city.

I can also guarantee that all proceeds from the sales of this book will be given to feed and clothe starving children in Arkansas (mine).

Back to the the Zombie Killers Release Party and book signing.

The Author Signs Books

And... what's a zombie party without the zombies?

Ha. Ha. Ha.

The Zombie Killers party was a great beginning to a crazy week in which Jeff spoke to 57 million listeners on "In the Marketplace with Janet Parshall". Scroll down to October 3, 2011/Part Two

I am currently reading "The Christian Zombie Killers Handbook". Stay tuned for the review. (Can a wife do that?)

LASTLY.. I love this tutorial on how a talented make-up artist did the zombie make-up: Click Here

Ride with Sophie

2011-09-23T10:41:00.000-07:00

West Point Ring Weekend 2011

2011-08-24T07:36:00.000-07:00

The United States Military Academy at West Point is a bastion of many traditions. It has been an incredible learning experience for this West Point mom to learn traditions as I have progressed (and matured!) through this once-in-a-lifetime experience.

The traditions begin early with figuring out how to divide a pie equally into an "odd" number of slices, how to chew food efficiently, and learning a new vocabulary filled with words like: Plebe, Yuk, Cow, Firstie, SAMI, boodle, smoke, hours, the Gray Period, poop deck, and SOSH run. West Point (and the Army) is its own universe with so many unusual terms ... many to which I am not even privy.

HOWEVER... of all this big, gray, stone institution's traditions, my absolute favorite has to be Ring Weekend. Such a happy milestone!

Interesting Facts about West Point Class Rings:

West Point was the first learning institution to have a class ring (1835).
Old Grads and their families donate rings back to West Point to be melded into the new metal used for the new class rings. An awesome symbol of the Long Gray Line's continuity.
Today's cadets design their own rings, but all rings include each year's class crest.
The cadets save money every month for their rings. It is quite an investment!

A beloved tradition of Ring Weekend is the "Ring Poop". After the ceremony's completion, Firsties (First Class Cadets or seniors) wearing their new, shiny rings are attacked by swarms of Plebes (Lowly Fourth Class Cadets who, under normal circumstances, would not be allowed to approach a Firstie in such an aggressive way). Plebes surrounding the Firsties chant in unison a very obnoxious poem regarding the new rings. Firsties try to run as fast as they are able to avoid all Plebes performing this embarrassing ritual.

I'm sad to have missed Ring Weekend, but, knowing how delighted my cadet was to have his fiance celebrate with him, made me smile

I cheered as my FDIL's (future daughter-in-law) plane landed 3:00 Friday afternoon at LGA. Every one said it would not be possible for her to make the Ring Ceremony by 5:00. Every one except another WP cadet mom who gave me the hottest NYC travel tip... ever. It took a lot of mom- prompting and assurance to my cadet that some things are well-worth the money spent, getting FDIL to the ceremony being one of them.

"Mom, we will just be standing around a lot."

When you are living West Point it is easy to lose perspective.

At last my cadet agreed to arrange for a limo to meet his fiance. She was on the airport curb by 3:20 (Only one hour and forty minutes until the Ring Ceremony!)

"My driver's name is 'Lucky'... that can't hurt my chances." was text received from FDIL (Aren't I all military-like using this new acronym?)

Imagine my delight when I received a very blurry i-Phone pic of cadets crossing the road at Trophy Point on their way to the ceremony. Whew... another Mission Accomplished! Here's to persistence, answered prayer, and a lot of Lucky!

Blurry 'cause she is running to make it!

Class of 2012 Ring Ceremony

My Cadet Fourth From the End (Photo Courtesy of West Point)

Special thanks to husband for his awesome ability to find our son in any photo.

THE Ring!

Beautiful Couple!

Meeting FDIL at the airport, I was delighted that she was delivering a special gift. To me, from my cadet.

Love it... and love the sweet note which accompanied the gift ... a note which made the present all the more special... my own little private Ring Ceremony. Wow.

Added in my note was: P.S. Don't lose this, it was very expensive!

Oh, how the roles begin to reverse... don't worry... it is now one of my most prized possessions.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation - 2011

2011-08-21T07:28:00.000-07:00

I still enjoy a good "How I Spent My Summer Vacation" essay.

The very best part of my summer vacation was having the guys home, if only in shifts.

I was so excited about capturing great photos of the family together with my new de-cluttering camera.

It's in the genetic code.

I had hoped for simply one good pose....

Please?

The least goofiest.

Davis technically has a bed at Hillcrest Cottage, but he is also seventeen... enough said. Add that he worked a golf course job with the alarm ringing at 4:45 a.m. Football practice days meant sleeping- in until 6:00 a.m. (woo hoo!) followed by work in the 100 plus degree temperatures.

This summer was the hottest in Arkansas history. The thermometer registered 130 degrees on the football turf during two-a-days.

Another one of Davis' weeks was spent as a Spina Bifida Camp counselor. He loved camp and the awesome campers. At closing ceremony he received this:

Stuart remained at college for first- term summer school. Very understandable. That's what college sophomores do.

Chancellor's List two semesters in a row. (My mom said, "Well... that's a first for our family. I never know that list existed!" Ha... me, neither.) The month we had Stu at home, included some incredible bike rides.

My sweet son (with a speedier bike) who waits patiently for me to catch up.

Having him under the Hillcrest Cottage roof is always one of my greatest joys.

Did I just say roof?

Hillcrest Cottage, built in 1923, has long been in need of a new roof. Construction people are shocked when told our roof had four layers which included the original 1923 wood shingles. (La la la... fingers in ears. "Just do the job, and quit wagging your head" is what I say to any people performing work in our cottage. )

Finally... wind damage and insurance decided to pay for the job. It was a long and tedious two weeks.

Seriously... a crazy two weeks. Mac and Lucy had to jump over this pile just to go outside. We were held captive inside for two weeks... arggh.

Oh... that nice clean, organized attic exposed to the world. Really? Rain? When the roof is off?

Yup.

Another casualty of the new roof... my beloved blue hydrangea bush sacrificed its life in the process.

R.I.P. I loved you so much and shed actual tears over your death.

Clayton was home for a week before traveling to France... to meet his high school honey who was taking a class in Paris... to get engaged... pretty big deal. We are thrilled beyond words.

He returned home for a week before heading to South Korea for his West Point internship. Sadly, he got mold poisoning from the barracks which kick-started him into a three week bout of tonsillitis so severe he ended up in the hospital receiving morphine. I will NOT share the picture he sent of those same tonsills. Wow.

And... when all of Hillcrest Cottage's men plus future daughter-in-law were at last home together... the upstairs air conditioning unit broke. One hundred degrees in the master bedroom. Lots of sleeping on couches.

But,I am very thankful that when one third of my entryway plaster ceiling crashed to the floor unexpectedly, it missed my future daughter-in-law and her mother, if only by literal seconds.

"A Hearty Hillcrest Cottage Welcome" to Future Mother-in-Law who was experiencing her first visit to our house. Glad we did not kill you. Gotta love the 'charm' of an eighty eight year- old cottage.

My birthday is always an important summer vacation point to note. It was a great day beginning with a surprise do-nut...

Pay no attention to those candles... he has dyslexia.

Included in the celebration were notes and a phone call from my guys (They know how much I treasure their notes!), a seventeen mile bike ride with Stuart, and an Italian dinner out (Ravioli is my favorite.)

Seven months later... still... de-cluttering.

The attic project has led to the photo project....

Every photo of my life, from tin- types to digital, organized into year boxes. Call me crazy. This will take a long time.

Davis began his high school senior year.

The annual pose.

We had fun driving Stuart back to school to begin his college junior year.

Stuart's house in the background.

Clayton just received his West Point ring (more on that in the future).

That ring is actually on MY son's finger! Notice his well-manicured fingernail (additional mom-pride).

Clayton, you have earned this ring... I am so proud of you, you awesome West Point Firstie. Dad and I would have given anything to have been there to see you receive it.

And, now, with two graduations (on the same weekend) and a wedding looming ahead this school year...

Mac... buckle your seatbelt, or leash or whatever dog's do, and get ready for one... wild... ride.

A Slice of True Living

2011-08-02T08:48:00.000-07:00

All the grandkids, minus our West Point cadet, with my mom.

This slice of life... time held still... grabs my heart... reminds me again of the simplest things in life being the most important.

Family is the best place of belonging and, when combined with laughter, makes big-life problems fade away... if only for a short evening of eating together.

Two cousins are heading off to college, one for the first time; another is returning to NYC where dreams are being pursued. Two will be at high school in days.. a freshman and a senior.

Unpredictable life! Any given day could mean one- less- plate at the table. Therefore, every family dinner is important.

And... my mom... every time we enjoy her contagious laugh is a gift to all of us.

The Blue Door in Gloucester

2011-07-23T08:40:00.000-07:00

All-Time Favorite Image from My Travels... just sharing the magic.

Summer Day at the Lake

2011-07-18T14:54:00.000-07:00

Can you imagine anything better than drinking coffee... on a shady dock... by a beautiful lake... in the summer?

Imagine this.

How about a cool breeze before the mercury rises for the day? The peaceful quiet before the tubers begin to cruise by the dock? The gentle rippling of the water against the shore?

Let me ask this question: Would you rather have a lakeside McMansion with all the bells and whistles? With brand-new everything and bedrooms for every guest?

Like this beauty?

Or a 1950's-era cabin filled with quilts... and pine paneling... and old board games... and beds everywhere... and floors begging to be re-finished?

Like this.

I just returned from an overnight outing where traditions like writing on the chalkboard are never altered. And laughter, old stories, a competitive game of Yahtzee, and the love of friends close- to- me- since- the -eighth- grade decorated the cabin with a lavishness that made the McMansion across the lake fade in comparison.

Enough said.

Here's to very special friends!

Morning Glory Love

2011-07-14T09:59:00.001-07:00

I use Morning Glories a lot in my artwork. Pink and green is my favorite color combination.

I enjoy the heart-shaped leaves.

These Morning Glories have popped up on Hillcrest Cottage's fence.

I'm a lazy gardener, so Nature is my landscape designer. Every year I anticipate how the garden will develop, and every year is different.

Happy Summer Day!

P.S. I have not forgotten to give my "special announcement"... just waiting on the pictures to arrive.

Blooming

2011-07-05T08:37:00.000-07:00

Wherever I am planted I hope that I will always find a way to bloom. This flower teaches me that great lesson:

Dear Flower: You were beautiful. Sorry I ran over you when rolling the trash can to the curb.

It has been a slow week at Hillcrest Cottage. We are waiting for the two college boys to roll in, we will soon make a very special announcement, and there will be lots of delayed 4th -of -July- type celebrations. Homemade ice cream, Hillcrest Cottage's famous "watermelon" sugar cookies, and lots of carnivorous grilling will be on the agenda.

Mac the Labradoodle is on high alert at her top-of-the-front-stairs post, anticipating the guys arrival.

Beautiful Lucy the Goldendoodle-less celebrates being One Year Old!

And... I continue to de-clutter and prepare for Hillcrest Cottage's Art and Very Cool Stuff Sale.

MUH-OH is HO-HUM backwards... Framed 1920's Sheet Music For Sale $25.00

Ghost Town and Death Mask (Adventure - Part Two)

2011-06-30T09:40:00.000-07:00

Yes, there is a ghost town and a death mask in this post.... so, keep reading!

Buckle up... here's the quick version of my adventure to find "the sign".

After driving 2 hours south to the ole home country, we were joined by our cousin. He became the Clayton Magical History Tour guide.

Venturing down some roads where we encountered not another soul... very remote!

This road led us to the forgotten and abandoned ghost town of:

Yancopin

And to this circa 1900 country store where my grandfather and his brothers would buy supplies during their hunting trips.

My cousin explained that deer season in the early days lasted only two weeks. The men would load up an entire boxcar full of food, gear, and horses, then they would unload everything at the Yancopin store.

Next stop: Arkansas City, once a thriving river town full of showboats and commerce, but now Main Street looks empty and sad... a shell of its former self.

This is the town where my mother grew up, where my great grandfather and grandfather were sheriffs. Although it is still the county seat, most every one and thing has moved away, including the river which was once the life blood of this little community.

They were the Arkansas City River Rats.

My brother in front of the volunteer fire department's (hand-cranker) fire truck. Is it any wonder that half the town burned down in the 50's?

The little church where my mother was married in 1952.

And the beautiful baptistry font where my mother was baptized in 1929.

Next, I asked for the town museum's key where I found my grandfather's picture sporting his 1936 G-Man look.

My grandfather was personal friends with J.Edgar Hoover because he was the country's first sheriff to be trained at Quantico's FBI school (1936). My grandfather brought back to Arkansas all the modern crime-solving techniques of the day... fingerprinting and plaster cast-making.

By making plaster casts of a criminal's crime- scene- shoe prints, the Sheriff solved a local crime shortly after his training. Very early C.S.I. stuff.

In the town's museum I saw the actual shoes and casts related to that crime. Along with...

the criminal's death mask.

This mask used to hang on Sheriff Clayton's office wall, death masks being in vogue in the 30's. John Dillinger's death mask can be found at the FBI building in Washington.

Futhermore, lest, you think this was yet another Southern story of small towns, good ole boys and racism, my grandfather snuck (not a real word, but I love it too much to not use it.) this accused man out of the county jail under night's cover, avoiding an angry lynch mob.

My grandfather had a reputation among all types of people for being a fair, honest, trustworthy man. He made sure that this man had a fair trial.

But... the death mask became a warning to all potential criminals: No crimes in this county... not on Sheriff Clayton's watch!

The Desha County Courthouse

where both my grandfather and great-grandfather worked as Sheriffs and Collectors. My grandfather once kept his new bull in the pasture behind this building, and it was a unique day when the bull escaped running wildly through this building.

Ye Ole Drunk Tank

Don't ya think spending the night in this cell, with the only ventilation being this small window, would cure all drinking problems?

Next: Old church in the nearby Selma town.

Town? Well, actually just a wide place in the road.The Claytons had settled in Selma in the 1820's, but when the railroad was built, all the families moved toward the railroad and away from the mosquitoes.

Needing some TLC.

Doors were nailed shut. I peeked through the crack.

The earliest Arkansas-born Clayton (1831).

This Selma Cemetery headstone was of my great great grandfather, Chesley C. Clayton.

Chesley's father (James S. Clayton) had been a river boat captain and land speculator from South Carolina, arriving in Arkansas in 1828. He captained a steamboat route from Arkansas Post to New Orleans.

Sadly, at a young 29 years, James died in a New Orleans cholera epidemic. Hoping to find him at this spot, I did not.

Neither did I find his wife. So a mystery still surrounds those two.

I will be working on that.

Brother, Cousin, and Mom in front of the courthouse.

I didn't find "the sign", but I think I discovered a whole lot more.

I brought back a lot! Memories of a day spent with my 82 year-old-mom, big brother, and

second cousin Clayton (whom I never get to see) along with a better knowledge of family history.

Also... I brought back some really cool pictures taken with my new Canon EOS Rebel T2icamera... purchased totally with more proceeds from selling my clutter!

De-Cluttering Venture Becomes an Adventure

2011-06-26T14:19:00.000-07:00

Yellowed and fragile newspaper clippings, a letter dated 1945 from my dad to his parents explaining why he wanted to quit West Point, silly poems and stories from my youth, travel brochures from my mother's 1950 European trip, and lots of forgotten photographs are some of the items I have been digging through piece-by-piece. Whew.

I was very intrigued by the following photo. It is a picture I have never seen, probably snapped around 1956. Several things about the photo interest me. For one, it is an early color picture. Secondly, it is my grandfather and some of his brothers, along with a cousin. My grandfather collapsed of a heart attack shortly after this picture was taken (not necessarily that day or even that year, just some time around this period of time... and at this very hunt camp). Could it be one of the last taken of him?

My grandfather is the first one on the left.

The final thing which caught my attention was this:

Check out the sign which reads: Clayton's Hunting Club. Clayton was my grandfather's last name and also my son's given name.

I WANT THAT SIGN!

Tomorrow we are going on a mission to find it. I am taking my brother and my 82- year- old mother with me. It is a two hour drive down to the old home country of SE Arkansas. My mom has never seen the place where her father died... over 54 years ago.

Stayed tuned for what we might find tomorrow!

Introducing My De-Cluttering Bike

2011-06-19T12:19:00.000-07:00

Say "Hello" to my Felt Cafe 24 Bike. Totally made possible through my de-cluttering efforts. Mrs. Beasley and lots of other childhood treasures sold on Ebay helped me achieve my goal.

This afternoon, I completed a full 15.82 mile River Trail loop, burning 837 calories, according to my i-Phone app. Two deer, one water skiing competition, two drug dealers, one Snickers bar break in the River Market (okay... take away 271 calories burned for that), a raccoon, two hours, and a difficult 97- degree- non-shady- very- hot- 15- minute home stretch finale, and I'm done.

So much fun.

Legos and Sons (+De-Cluttering Update)

2011-06-17T06:46:00.000-07:00

In my de-cluttering process, now in its fifth month... gaaaahhhh... I have encountered Legos... a lot of Legos... no, really a very large amount. Star Wars, Harry Potter, castles, and pirates--- my sons had them all; my sons built them all.

I have stepped on many a Logo brick and sucked up many a little Lego man arm into my vacuum. I have routinely cursed their little selves.

One day, however, as with other childhood passions, the Legos oddly remain tightly closed within their plastic tubs.

This is just one of five lego tubs this size.

And I ask myself, as all moms should, "Where did all the time go?"

There is a heaviness and sadness which can wash over me like the tide coming in when I am napping on the beach and the sun begins to go down and suddenly my towel is wet from the ocean coming near. Because something extremely fun and incredible is being finished, completed with

no mulligans or do-overs.

There is no 'parental re-set button'.

Life happens. Eras are completed. The page turns.

Back to Legos.

How does a boy build a Logo castle? One brick at a time.

How does a mom build a son? One small investment at a time.

One baby bottle. One rocking to sleep. One bedtime story. One band-aid over a boo-boo. One quick game of catch. One lemonade stand. One kiss. One midnight sled ride. One encouraging word. One parental act of discipline. One "no". One "yes". One frog. One funny bug. One goldfish. One bunny. One tail-less hamster (no rodents with tails allowed). One puppy. One bird. One lightening bug catching contest. One pep talk. One "I love you". One "you're the best". One "don't give up." One "there is no one else like you". One "I believe in you". One "you can do it" One E.R. visit. One late night homework project rescuing. One mom-the-taxi-driver trip. One driving lesson (Lord, help me.) One college application. One final room cleaning. One dorm room move-in. One hug. One phone call or text message. One "God loves you so much". One "I love you, buddy". One brick at a time.

Where did all the time go?

Sadness at its passing. Joyful confidence in knowing I can account for every minute. Progress and set-backs all wrapped up in one because, as Martin Luther once said, "It is frightening to think that we mark our children simply by being ourselves." In spite of having me as their mom, I am able to take a step back and admire the three castles which this Kinleystead has constructed.

There is much satisfaction in knowing that (with lots of help from the most awesome dad in the world... my husband... Happy Father's Day to you... even though you are not my father, but have been the greatest father my sons could ever have had.) I... really we... it was definitely a team effort... were the major players in...

building our sons.

P.S. De-Cluttering Update:

The second half of the attic, my mom's trunk from 1950, three basement boxes, and some drawer are left, then I will have been through every square inch of Hillcrest Cottage... de-cluttering and organizing. Dear Reader, I hope you are rooting me on!

In this long process, I have encountered so many things that have made me ask, "What do I do with this?" I mean... what do you do with a letter written in 1950 from my grandmother to my mother right after my parents were married which speaks of a summer so hot they had to burn the crops and the wedding gift of the lovely silver tomato server for which my mom "will find many uses" (ha ha to that if you knew my mom).

Or the cupcake decoration topper from 1966... they don't make 'em like that any more.

I have to answer these questions.

My dad's baby shoes from 1923 which did not get bronzed.

Original Smiley Face from 1970.

Break My Heart... 1956... Saved by My Mom... From My Grandfather's Grave.

Before the Internet... How We Read About Teenage Idols.

1945 WWII Ration Card of My Gr. Uncle (who was like a grandfather to me & had no children of his own)

Some things are easy to sell on Ebay, some things I will throw away, some things are important links to my family heritage, and other things I hold in my hand and wonder what to do....

After the gathering of incredibly- cool -stuff comes...

THE SALE...

a sale like none other... with stuff you won't believe I have saved for so long.

Go Me!

P.P.S. If you read this blog but have never commented, now would be a great time to begin because I need encouragement to keep going in my de-cluttering project plus bloggers need and want comments and interaction. So many of you tell me how much you enjoy reading...

So... Ollie, Ollie Oxen Free! ... come out of the shadows and comment.

The DAWG Days of Summer

2011-06-05T11:59:00.000-07:00

Last week I needed a jacket while riding my bike. This week it is a 100 degrees. The extremely hot weather unexpectedly invading has everyone talking... and complaining.

I did some reading about the expression "The Dogs Days of Summer" and found this internet article: http://wilstar.com/dogdays.htm

I have always enjoyed knowing the origins of words and expressions. However, in the South, "The Dog Days of Summer" usually conjures images of front porches and dogs too lazy to move. When it's hot in these parts, all of creation goes into slow motion.

I could not resist taking this picture.

It's Arkansas, y'all.

This dawg's face speaks for us all.

There's only one remedy for days like these: Get to a lake ASAP. I find myself wishing I had a lake house to which I could evacuate.

Hello... Good-Bye

2011-05-29T11:01:00.001-07:00

The best days begin like this:

Coffee and think- time on the porch.

Being a huge fan of gardens and secret places, I love this door. Follow me through the hedges...

To my favorite warm- weather morning spot.

A hidden place where I drink coffee and listen to the birds and contemplate my day.

Especially incredible in May when the breeze is still cool and the hydrangeas are in full bloom.

I love these big showy bushes... my favorite of all flowers!

Good-bye to you, May, with your sweet cool temperatures, last chiminea nights before summer, happy-sad endings, transitions, and graduations.

Hello to you, June, when the mercury rises and stings along with the sunburns and bug bites, but I welcome the easing of schedules and sleeping a bit later and watching my high school senior enjoying lake trips, fishing, morning football work-outs, and earning money at his part-time job... making some of life's sweetest memories.

I look forward to two short cadet visits and the return of middle son after summer school ends. Maybe a vacation will appear magically in the midst of all these plans. If not, I will continue to be renewed by coffee, birds, and my secret garden.

Rain, Rain Go Away

2011-05-02T19:44:00.000-07:00

We are floating away here in Arkansas. Lots of rain, tornados, and flooding have marked the past three weeks. The Arkansas River has spilled over its boundaries to cover parts of the River Trail where I enjoy riding my bike and walking my dogs. It is definitely a record rainfall spring. Many are comparing it to the fateful 1927 when one third of the state was flooded.

I have previously introduced my many-greats Grandmother Worthington. She came from England in the 1800's to be married. People say she looks like me. It's the eyes.

This was painted upon her arrival in New York.

In the 1927 flood, someone dropped Grandmother Worthington, and this crack resulted.

Back to our present flooding. Thank you, Mr. State Farm Man for smashing your ladder against our gutter during the worst rainy season in 80 years.

Right in the middle of Davis dressing for his Jr/Sr Prom, the sump pump shorted out, and I thought the house was on fire. I pushed him out the door half-dressed with no pictures, but someone else took this one.

It is cold, dark, and full of water down this rabbit hole. But, down the hole is the only way to fix our water problem.

Even grown men marveled at their bravery for tackling this project, for going where few men have gone before... except... can I admit that once, when Jeff was out- of- town and the pump became clogged...

I paid my two youngest $5.oo each (in the day when $5.00 got me quite a lot with them!) to wade in freezing water up to their arm pits... in the pitch dark... over to the pump to start it again. Bless them! (You know by now, that is Southern for "glad that wasn't me!").

My Heroes

(Jeff is under there somewhere. I had to dangle upside- down to blindly take this picture.)

Seriously, would you wade through this water?

Mission Accomplished!

Wedding Anniversary is For the Birds

2011-05-01T07:09:00.000-07:00

I say to you, do not be anxious for your life, as to what you shall eat, or what you shall drink; nor for your body, as to what you shall put on. Is not life more than food, and the body than clothing?

Vintage 80's "Malia of Honolulu" Sundress... Glad Life is More than This!

Life is Also More than These 80's- Era- Awesome Loafers

Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns, and yet their heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth more than they?

Part of My Bird Nest Collection

And which of you being anxious can add a single cubit to life's span?

And why are you anxious about clothing? Observe how the lilies of the field grow; they do not toil nor do they spin, yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory did not clothe himself like one of these. But if God so arrays the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, will He not much more do so for you, O men of little faith?

Spring Hydrangeas... So Beautiful... Here Today and Gone Tomorrow

Do not be anxious then, saying, "What shall we eat?" or "what shall we drink?" or "With what shall we clothe ourselves?" For all these things the Gentiles eagerly seek; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But, seek first His kingdom and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added to you.

Therefore do not be anxious for tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day had trouble enough of its own. ---Matthew 6: 25-34

On May 1, 1982, I clung tightly within my heart to the beautiful Matthew passage. There were so many unknowns when this twenty-two year old sorority girl walked the aisle. I committed my life to another person and traded all the security I had ever known for a big city and finding a job. I worried about how we would pay for my husband's graduate school, our apartment, food, and clothing.

But, trading the unknowns for the Known is how we survived.

Newly- Married Me with Our First Dog at Our First House

One apartment, seven houses, three cities, countless rabbits, two birds, four dogs, three children, and twenty-nine years later... I am still alive... still not naked... ate dinner last night... and, even though it is raining outside, I have a roof which keeps me dry (Well, mostly, it is an 88- year- old house.).

Our Porch Which is Currently Leaking

All my thankfulness is given to Christ. I could have never made it until today by myself. I can not think of my anniversary without recalling Matthew 6 because, not matter how much I try, I can not get past it...

nor should I want to.

Why We Did Not Rake the Leaves

2011-04-24T07:58:00.001-07:00

It was a beautiful Saturday- before- Easter at Hillcrest Cottage. The chosen chore de jour was to finish the spring leaf raking.

It didn't take much to get sidetracked from that job... and the following is part of what happened.

Discarding a rotting table on the front veranda led to a decision to give the table another life in the cottage's rear. Antique estate sale legs replaced the rotted ones. Soon, the smell of grilling steaks filled the air.

Here's the new-old table pre- steak dinner.

Inside the green shutter doors is my favorite Summer spot. I call it "The Potting Shed". Not much potting goes on in here... mostly reading, thinking, and napping. The stone floor is always cool and air from under the house flows through a vent providing natural air conditioning (mandatory when the Arkansas temps reach their Summer highs).

Peek inside this quiet, peaceful space...

Mac the Labradoodle loves it when I open the Potting Shed's doors!

Mac enjoys the stone floors. When I sit on the swing, she naps under my feet.

I saw this fun votive chandelier at a local antique mall. My sweet boys snatched it up for my birthday gift. It is very special for that reason.

Lots of candles make the Potting Shed shine at night.

The chandelier at dusk.

It was a productive day... much better than leaf raking.

De-Cluttering Items of the Day

2011-04-19T06:14:00.001-07:00

I am still making my way through the clutter of my early childhood. It is becoming a profitable venture... more on that tomorrow.

Chatty Cathy was my first talking doll. I remember her well even though I was only three years old when I received her. Unfortunately, all I have left is this pinafore dress. Cathy's end was a sad one as she became a statistic of my older brothers' older brother mischief.

One fateful day, I entered my bedroom to discover all of my dolls had been unfrocked. My brothers had drawn (in magic marker... the hardcore 1960's kind with a very strong odor) football numbers on all of the dolls' naked backs.

The next scene was not a pretty sight.

I had a temper.

All I have left of Chatty Cathy:

This album is actually very rare. (Can you imagine that?) It's not too late to buy this on Ebay and to enjoy some awesome music from 1970!

This comic book had been pristinly preserved for 40 years in one of my many attic trunks. I took it out recently to "Ebay it" (sic... sorry... the writer in me has always wanted to use this term). Unfortunately for me, a leak in our garage damaged this book which I think is (was) actually valuable to collectors. Sigh.

It is still some good reading!

And, lastly, the first love of my life... Jack Wild. He was the wallpaper of my late grade school years... until I grew taller than him... which didn't take long, as he was only 5' tall. My husband took great pleasure the other day in displaying a photo of Jack's later years... meanie... Google older Jack some time. He's no longer alive, so I won't be tacky.

We were supposed to be married, but things didn't work out.

Afraid to Scratch My Head

2011-03-31T14:14:00.000-07:00

I recently read a de-cluttering article in which the author encouraged "de-clutter-ers", such as myself, to document the items given away or sold. If the memory is not in the object, the author stated, then a photo brings back the same memories, right? And a photo takes up lots less room!

I remember the day I acquired this wonderful 19th century homespun blanket with its home- sweet- home cozy style (which still looks classically fabulous with crisp, white linens). It was the Spring of 1986; a local collector was auctioning her primo early American New England primitive antiques.

It was a gorgeous spring day. The auction was under a tent. The event was everything I thought an antique auction experience should be! It was my first and only auction with bidding. I was so afraid to move an inch in my folding chair, or even to scratch my head because I had heard stories about auctions and scratching your head and owing money you didn't have, etc.

My heart beat so fast when the man said "Sold!" as he pointed to me. I couldn't wait to get this blanket home.

It is still a great treasure... just time to let someone else enjoy.

Bye, Bye Beasley

2011-03-29T20:01:00.000-07:00

As this de-cluttering process begins to pay off in real cash, I am already half-way to my goal of a new bike.

Click here to see it's awesome-ness!

I thought it would be difficult to tell Mrs. Beasley "good bye", but when the bids began to roll in... well... it got less and less sad.

Today it came time for the boxing which began to resemble a casket. Well... it is a death of sorts.

Here she is checking out the box size:

She fits!

After this picture, Mrs. Beasley did a really good impersonation of the "Shroud of Turin".

Then, it was: Bye, Bye Beasley!

When I ride my new, shiny bike down the River Trail ... soon ... on a bright, sunny day, the wind in my hair (no helmet... sorry... unless I get that cute polka dot one I saw online the other day) I will thank Mrs. Beasley for how she contributed toward my new passion!

De-cluttering is fun!

1920's Candlestick Phone

2011-03-27T07:52:00.000-07:00

In the early 60's, Captain Kangaroo was my hero.

I loved everything about his black- and- white- TV self!

I loved Mr. Green Jeans, Mr. Mooses (lots of Misters), and especially Bunny who never missed an episode of plotting "the ping pong ball drop" on the Captain's head. It was never "if" Bunny would do this thing, but how and when.

Nothing was funnier in 1963.

From right to left: Captain Kangaroo, Bunny, Mr. Green Jeans, Mr. Moose... but who and what is that that costumed character? I don't remember him at all. Is he a bear? What is his name?

Anyway... I always admired Captain Kangaroo's phone.

In today's world, consumer's would just buy a phone just like the Captain's. "Bunny" puppets would be available for purchase. Everyone could have their own Captain's uniform!

But, not then.

One fine Saturday afternoon while in college, I found this:

My Very Own Captain Kangaroo Phone!

It is now "For Sale". This is serious business!!!

I am serious about selling my childhood.

I am serious about the de-cluttering process.

I am serious about buying my new bicycle.

P.S. Please pray for Mrs. Beasley. She is doing better than expected on Ebay.

Mrs. Beasley

2011-03-26T10:38:00.000-07:00

Mrs. Beasley and Buffy

My attic de-cluttering project is getting very personal.

Consider Mrs. Beasley from the 60's TV show "Family Affair": Stored in an attic footlocker since 1969, she has a slight "bed head" but is in great condition otherwise... except...

she no longer talks.

Which is a good thing... because if she could talk, she would reveal that in 1967 I truly was Buffy. I had the pig tails and all the Buffy clothes with matching bows. I would faithfully watch the weekly Family Affair episodes with anticipation to see if Buffy's outfit was in my closet. Many weeks we did have the same clothes.

The clothes and bows are long gone, and all that I have remaining is Mrs. Beasley. But, soon, she, too will pass on to some collector's home where she can be loved and appreciated more than being stored in my hot, dark (and less-cluttered!) attic.

All proceeds from her Ebay sale will go towards the "New Bicycle" fund.

Mrs. Beasley (1967 to 2011)

Childhood For Sale

2011-03-18T11:06:00.001-07:00

I'm sharing my childhood memories with whomever buys these incredible items on Ebay.

Here's the link to my auctions for any interested buyers: Ebay

A few years back, I financed the spending money portion of my trip to England on the Liddle Kiddle dolls which accompanied these cute, little books. I made so much unexpected money that it prompted my oldest son to say,"If I could go back in time, I would buy up all the Liddle Kiddles that I could and leave them in the boxes."

One buyer thanked me, "I have been searching for this doll for 40 years!"

I thought, "I have been saving this doll for 40 years."

Glad we found one another.

Seriously, my grandmother's Victorian antiques are a bust, but my Liddle Kiddle stash is cha-ching-ching! I figure that Cathy and Susan will not be collecting these fondly remembered treasures from the assisted living center, so now is the time.

It's in pristine condition.

This one has a slight bend mark.

This booklet shows all of Barbie's latest fashions! BTW, I have the original Barbie from 1958...

I bit her nose off, so that's why I won't be selling her. I'm still thinking about all the original Barbie clothes, however.

Barbie, Skipper, and Tutti... yes. Francie... sorta remember her, but... who is Casey? She didn't do so well. Anyone recall her relationship to Barbie?

And, while I am on the subject, I just have to complain that my Barbies NEVER had a Ken. I had every Barbie imaginable, and all were forced to date G.I. Joe who had, not a red convertible, but an Army Jeep. I don't know if you have ever seen Barbie and G.I. Joe side-by-side , but the scale is off just enough to make their friendship quite awkward.

True Fact: When my third son was born, all my Barbie doll heads fell off... a strange omen.

Now, we are entering the teenage years. Look at this Vintage 1971 Funky Groovy Threads patchwork shirt. I still melt when I see it! This is difficult to sell.

Look at its awesome coolness.

And now for THE shoes. Drove to Memphis with my grandmother to shop for shoes and these came home with us....

100% soft leather patchwork. I still love them so much...

Another Hillcrest Cottage Mugging

2011-03-15T09:47:00.001-07:00

An unexpected mugging occurred on Saturday as we were enjoying an out-of-town flea market outing. My husband came face-to-face with this treasure:

Four Dollars!!!

The "Coffee Hound" mug collection welcomes its newest member:

Another Hillcrest Cottage Update:

I am slowly continuing my kitchen transformation. Pay no attention to the cabinet's paint job because the red cabinets are going ochre... I think.

I decided to join the open cabinet revolution. Not having solid white dishes kept me from doing this for a long time. I know I will really like this when the cabinets (inside and out) get their fresh, new painting.

Fashion Icon: Burberry Trench Coat

2011-02-28T06:53:00.000-08:00

As Hillcrest Cottage accomplishes the daunting task of de-cluttering, I thought it would be interesting to share some of the awesome items I will be "sharing" with who's ever dead Presidents speak the loudest to me. As I have written previously, too much of my emotions are attached to physical objects. Letting go is difficult.

But... with my eyes fixed resolutely upon the acquisition of a new bicycle, I forge ahead with the task at hand.

This Spring fashion season is full of trench coats. Riding this fashion wave, I predict that, come Fall, if you don't have a trench, then... well... just stay at home.

And... in the world of trench coats, everyone knows there is but one name:

Burberry of London.

Take a look at this awesome fashion statement. It also comes with a button-off wool lining for cold weather.

Adorable dog not included.

Burberry is so much more than a coat... it's a lifestyle. When out-and-about in a Burberry, it is always double the fun!

Look at the fantastically awesome antique wood crate purchased yesterday at my neighborhood Hillcrest Junk Company (click here to see). I attached it to the rear of my grocery- store- run Purple Cruiser. Until my new one arrives, this bike will have to suffice.

This beautiful model looks classically stunning in the timeless Burberry sporting the button-on wool collar.

Wow.

London has come to Hillcrest Cottage.

Garbage Disposals And iPhone Apps

2011-02-21T07:48:00.000-08:00

Hillcrest Cottage's garbage disposal is broken and had to be removed. It was backing up the right side of the sink. The drainage pipe being connected to the dishwasher, has caused that wonderful machine to also be out of commission.

Currently my kitchen is at a pre-WWII status.

So primitive.

After eating, I have to SCRAPE any unconsumed food into the trash can.

EWWWWW.

I have never been a "scraper", and the line of scrapers on my side has been broken for many years. I can never remember a time when my family did not have a garbage disposal. My needle-pointing grandmother most certainly would have had one had they been invented. (Click here to see the history of garbage disposals.) And even if she did not, she had "help" who would have done the scraping... discreetly... in the kitchen... away from her watching eyes.

My mother is known far and wide for her garbage disposal usage! The entire kitchen would rattle, dishes shaking on a 2.0 Richter Scale level when she would put the entire Thanksgiving turkey carcass down the garbage disposal. My husband was my college boyfriend when he first witnessed this amazing feat and could not believe her garbage disposal grinding bravery.

On the other hand, my husband's family hailed from more rural roots. Scrapers they were with lineage unbroken. My husband's dog died of obesity. So, I conclude she consumed whatever the family did not. And going further back, there were farm animals who benefited. In my husband's dad's family there were 9 boys and 1 girl (Bless her heart... which is Southern for "glad that's not me".)... so I'm thinking those farm animals might have been a tad on the lean side.

And the dishwasher... I have to announce that I am "going down to the river" when I have to lug a day's worth of dishes to the bigger laundry room sink.

Thankfully, the disposal is still under warranty... but the Sears man can't come for a week.

So many things taken for granted in this modern society of ours.

SPEAKING OF WHICH.... The "Square" (click here) allows me to swipe debt cards on my iPhone, and the money is deposited directly into my bank account. Just doing my part to usher in the Anti-Christ's cashless society. Anyone can have one for free.

I just discovered the new Target App for iPhone (click here) which allows me to get coupon codes from my phone and also allows me to see gift registry lists, including items, prices and how many they have received. Amazing.

And the bar code scanner app which allows me to scan icons on magazine ads. So cool! Last night a stylist popped on my phone to show me how to mix and match all the items I was viewing on a magazine page. Wow. Technology for people like me!

If my needle-pointing grandmother could see the world now, it would make her blue hair turn purple. Even my 82 year old mom, so skilled at the garbage disposal but so technology ignorant, will enjoy seeing my Target App.

The same mom who routinely calls me, "Would you get on the intercom and ask this question?" Bless her... which is Southern for "glad... that's... not... me."

So far, I am doing fair at keeping up with this fast-moving world. I wonder what things my grandchildren will say about me....

Clutter

2011-02-20T12:15:00.001-08:00

Cleaning out my art studio was a good thing...

a very good thing.

Look at this nice, tidy bookshelf!

But... cleaning out my art studio led to the hallway

which led to my bedroom which led to my bathroom which took me back to the hallway...

and re-cluttered my art studio.

Help! There is no where to which I can shuffle the clutter.

I am stuck until I clean out my basement, garage, and attic.

Wow.

Why I am enslaved to clutter brings out all the quirkiness in me. And, since I am such a do-it-yourself type person, I had to analyze myself:

1. I fear I will throw out something I will want or need later... to use in life or as a creative project.

2. I have emotional attachments to physical objects. I feel like I am throwing away my childhood, my children's childhoods... or worse... my grandmother.

"Oh," asks Myself, " the same grandmother who hated clutter and was famous for throwing out everything she no longer needed?"

"Yes, " I replied to myself, " the same one who threw out all my mother's dolls without consulting her and who gave the yard man the really awesome antique train set with which I loved playing?"

"Yep. That's the one," Me added.

3. "Mom, you hold onto the past too much," observed wise college son.

Okay... so, I my fears of the future make me I hold too tightly to the past.

4. I am the obligatory family historian and curator. I can not remove myself from this role lest the family history should die.

6. I could sell this stuff and make some money.

Concluding my session with Me, Myself, and I, it came down to this question:

Does the daily "real" benefit of de-cluttering OUTWEIGH the things which "might" be done with the clutter?

YES!!!

But, it is still not easy to let go.

Here's the re-cluttered art studio... except, now I am preparing for a sale mid-April:

Hillcrest Cottage's Art & Oddities (Really... cool... stuff).

Will I really do something with these t-shirts?

Harry Potter fans... Do you recognize this?

A piece of art which I just framed and it looks great! It will be a part of the upcoming show along with a Boy Scout hat from the 1920's, a turquoise-colored metal oar, and whatever else I discover in my effort to de-clutter Hillcrest Cottage.

And... I did re-purpose some things I have been planning on re-purposing like this incredible needle-pointed rose (needle-pointed by my grandmother).

Love it!

It will be a very happy edition to someone's home.

P.S. When I sell the needle-pointed rose I will NOT be selling my grandmother with it...

I am sharing her.

Hillcrest Cottage Etsy Shop Newbies

2011-02-16T06:15:00.000-08:00

Quick look at some new Etsy Shop arrivals....

Lots of refrigerator magnets, and here are two designs:

LOVE! LOVE! LOVE! New Knapsack Designs:

French-Inspired Quilted Fabric... Small and Cute:

This is wool but is so soft to the touch:

Feels like a pair of your favorite jeans... wait... it is!

This design is available in several flea market frames:

Gearing up for another show in April... new things should be appearing with regularity at:

( Click here:) HillcrestCottage.Etsy.Com

Hillcrest Cottage Snow & Golden Thievery

2011-02-10T07:59:00.000-08:00

Here's an equation for you: My "Global Warming Celebration" bike ride in sunny 75 degrees + one week later arrival of the heaviest snow we have had in years = "Welcome to Arkansas".

No Birds Bathing Today!

Hillcrest Cottage Garden

Yesterday, my confinement celebration included pairing clean socks which had been overflowing from the 'unmatched sock box' for... uhhhh... several months. It's a good feeling to know all of Hillcrest Cottage's sock partners have been reunited!

Today's work-out will include a very enthusiastic vacuuming... then a walk in the snow. It's beautiful and sunny, and Mac is tagged to be the "favored dog" who will accompany me.

Mac the Labradoodle and Beautiful Lucy the Doodle-less love snow more than anything. The ice clings to Mac's curly fur, turning her into an ice ball. Lucy romps wildly, loving it when I sweep lots of snow into her face.

With Lucy it is always "the wilder the better."

The Golden Retriever book I had borrowed from the library stated that " If Goldens were people, they would be kleptomaniacs."

So true.

Gloves and socks are a temptation to great for Lucy to resist.

Example of Lucy's Hand-i-Work

Last evening Lucy ate several fingers of a blue glove.

Lucy's Late -Night Blue Glove Fun

I will leave you with the following image and all the possibilities that Hillcrest Cottage can anticipate.

Snowbound Lucy Plotting Her Next Theft

Global Warming Celebration!

2011-01-30T09:43:00.000-08:00

It was definitely a global warming celebration! Everyone needed to check the calendar to make sure it was still January. Seventy degrees and sunny... wow.

I jumped on my awesome 21 speed Schwinn, scored at my neighborhood junk store, and headed down to the River Trail.

Click here to read all about this world- class bike riders' heaven.

Taking some time to enjoy the beautiful view and incredible sunshine.

Riding along, I thought to myself, "This is so peaceful and happy! I think I have discovered 'my thing'.

Pandora Radio playing from my knapsack (Re-cycled vintage fabrics $20).

As I was riding merrily along, my brakes began to squeak. Note to self: On the way back to Hillcrest Cottage, drop by the local bike shop for a brake adjustment.

At the bike shop, one thing led to another...

... which ended in the bike man saying, "You haven't been riding this bike have you?"

"Well... kinda... why?"

"It is totally unsafe. The steering column is getting ready to snap in half. Do not ride this bike."

Condemned. My awesome bike was condemned.

The End.

Global Warming Celebration over.

Hillcrest Cottage - My Art and My Fam

2011-01-21T05:48:00.000-08:00

This free photo slideshow made with Smilebox

Bring It

2011-01-09T10:11:00.000-08:00

Snow is on its way. Expected accumulation 4". Everyone around here knows to run quickly to the store. And... when the snow does come... everyone knows that no one will be able to make it to work... but they will be able to make it to whoever's house has the biggest pot of chili or the best movies playing.

It's just a little game we play here in Arkansas.

For now... we hunker down and wait.

Presently, all that matters are my new:

And this Arkansas Snow Day standard fare:

Dear Reader, if you know not of Rotel and Velveeta Dip, please message me because I'm telling you right now, "You have never truly lived."

Screwy News at Hillcrest Cottage

2011-01-08T08:43:00.000-08:00

Hillcrest Cottage had been number-less ever since I had built my front garden fence. Delivery men and visitors were often confused when trying to find my house. A few weeks ago, the Fed-X man even gave me an unexpected Christmas delivery... my neighbor's computer!

But, I couldn't settle for just any numbers... I had dreamed of these awesome bronze twig numbers!

The Hillcrest Cottage men pooled their resources, and I happily received 4, 2, 0, and 1 for Christmas! There was, however, one glitch: the screws which came with the antique bronze numbers were a very shiny, new brass!

Yuck!

No problem! I was soon off to my neighborhood hardware store where the men are friendly and knowledgeable. Click on Kraftco to read about my incredible store.

I was briefed by the Kraftco man on the quick history of screws and discovered to my dismay, that bronze screws are no longer manufactured, except in specialty situations, and it is not cost-effective for my twig number company to manufacture screws to match their numbers.

Poop.

Fortunately for me, the wonderful Kraftco man was the only employee who knew of an old box full of screws like that for which I was searching! He, then, pulled out a dusty box on the top shelf and produced these:

The box was marked "1964". The cost was .25 per screw. The match was perfect.

The end result made me very happy. Thank you, Hillcrest Cottage men and Kraftco! The delivery men thank you, too.

Arkansas' All Academies Banquet 2010

2011-01-03T06:57:00.000-08:00

A traditional holiday event is the All Academies Banquet. This event is very festive, and all of Arkansas' cadets and midshipmen are invited. In reality, it is an opportunity for the parents and guests to view their sons in full dress uniforms (daughters, too, however most of the young women choose to wear their civilian attire). There are formal introductions, and unique military traditions which includes toasts and a POW/MIA memory table. The banquet brings a bit of 'military' home and allows the families a glimpse into their children's military life.

Our All Academies Banquet was held at Little Rock's very beautiful and historic Capital Hotel (President Grant slept here in 1877, legend saying that Grant had been allowed to take his horse upstairs to his hotel room). The banquet food was first class and included a very unique dessert of vanilla and bacon ice cream. Every one at our table ate the ice cream with much skepticism but declared it delicious in the end.

The Capital Hotel's Tree:

We look like this very seldom:

Lastly, Me with My Awesome West Point Cadet:

It is very difficult to believe that this was our third All Academies Banquet. Although, our cadet would offer a slightly different perspective, his time at West Point is passing swiftly.

Sun Sets on 2010

2011-01-02T11:24:00.001-08:00

As the sun has set on "2010", the following are quick and random thoughts from Hillcrest Cottage.

"As for me, I will trust in You, O Lord, I say: You are my God.
My times are in Your hand.... Make Your face to shine upon Your servant." --- Psalm 31

Keeping "College Guy Hours" is difficult these days: My knapsack art expresses my feelings best:

Happy New Year from Hillcrest Cottage's newest resident:

Keeping Christmas Simple

2010-12-25T10:43:00.000-08:00

Hillcrest Cottage's Christmas Eve began with a gumbo made from whatever was shot from whomever shot it, and the picture is grainy because permission was not granted to post to this blog. But... the gumbo was very good. Thanks, hunter person!

Hillcrest Cottage's dinner table, and I have to brag that I made my best bread pudding EVER with the whiskey sauce being equally awesome!

This poster, found by my husband in a London thrift store, once lived as a pre-WWII street evangelist's sandwich sign. The sign now reminds me to not stray from the simplicity of the Christmas message.

Also In the spirit of simplicity, Hillcrest Cottage's decorations were scaled way back this season... intentionally... so that...

I would celebrate the importance of a family being together. Love seeing this cadet's uniform hanging around!

In my opinion, diamonds, pearls, and Christmas trees must always be real.

Memories of my childhood are found in this ornament.

Stockings hand knitted by my mom and given at each of the boys' births, are filled with fun. Next came the traditional pic of the guys holding stockings in front of the tree, but I'm not allowed to show that one.

And, finally, the debris that always follows.

Bike Ride

2010-12-18T23:34:00.000-08:00

Cycling through the French countryside is on my bucket list.

But, the beauty of this River Trail today rivaled scenery anywhere.

Today the air was fresh, crisp, and wintery. The sun was warm enough to take the cold's edge away. The trail was populated with walkers, runners, and bikers... an armadillo and a huge jack rabbit.

Peace, quiet, and the wind in my face.

It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas

2010-12-17T13:13:00.000-08:00

Hillcrest Cottage's postbox has been filling up with cards.

I still love mail... real mail!

Outside has been a bit chilly, so follow the arrow inside.

Help yourself to some hot spicy cider sipped from one of my always growing collection of vintage 1960's made- in- Japan- Santa- mugs ( 48 at this writing!).

Christmas Comes... Ready or Not!

2010-12-12T09:17:00.000-08:00

The funny thing about Christmas is... it comes whether I am ready or not!

I like to cut down my own tree, and these were my helpers this year.

I LOVED the girl-help... and it was her first Christmas tree farm experience: Free hot chocolate and fresh REAL trees!

Hang on there, tree. I'll get back to you on Monday!

Gingerbread Tradition

2010-12-10T15:36:00.001-08:00

The years roll by; I discover I enjoy doing the same things each holiday. That's what I would call a 'tradition'. At times I have thought no one pays attention or cares.... until a traditions changes. Then... my guys speak up, and I understand the importance of continuity. The traditions we create become a part of the family fabric.

During Christmas time, I make two treats: homemade fudge and gingerbread men. I make homemade fudge because I love it, and fudge reminds me of my own childhood. I make gingerbread for a very different reason.

When Davis was in kindergarten, the teacher asked each child to tell their favorite Christmas tradition. Davis replied, " My favorite tradition is when my mom bakes gingerbread."

"Whaaaa?" was my response, "I have never before baked gingerbread!" Of course, I immediately found a recipe and chained myself in the kitchen.

And have every year since.

The baking of the gingerbread is the beginning of my Christmas. We have yet to put up a tree or anything else Christmas-y. I can only ho-ho-ho for 2 weeks.

Oops... I just looked at the calendar. So, some years I'm a little bit slow-er.

And... it is true... molasses is also slow.

I had planned on stepping up the artistic quality of my men this year, but it didn't happen.They still look like an army of Mr. Bills (SNL 70's icon).

Quality control is my job.

So here's the product of two hard days of back-breaking work.

The packaging alone took a full day. But, I felt very accomplished when I had made it to the post office this afternoon.

Whew.

Help! I've Been Mugged!

2010-12-05T09:30:00.001-08:00

It all began with an innocent flea market outing. When I was suddenly and unexpectedly....

MUGGED!!!

I fell in love with this kitschy, corny design. Then, I wondered if there could be more. The answer was "yes!" ,
and I added this one:

And this one:

Three makes an official collection. I began to establish some collecting rules: No more online buying (too easy). No more than $5.00 (there must be limits!)

Has to be 1950-60 era and preferably made here:

Who could resist this face?

Or this face?

Okay... I'm going....

A Hillcrest Cottage Thanksgiving

2010-11-29T06:30:00.000-08:00

You know you are fully "grown up" when... and the blank can be filled in with various words. A few years back my husband said, "You are no fun on holidays. All you do is work."

Hmmmmm....

It's true, but despite all the work, I still love Thanksgiving.

A peaceful walk before the wildness of preparation began.

Davis had a week-long vacation from school and was able to go duck hunting. I have been forbidden to show the very bad picture of him hold the following because duck hunting begins at 3 a.m. and his face looked like it. He came in the door holding what is in this picture, and I laughed because I thought it was a rubber duck ( like a rubber chicken), but it was real.

Don't hate. This is how boys in Arkansas roll.

Next came the many hours of preparation. Polishing the silver, cleaning the house, seating charts, setting the tables, cooking all day, guests arriving. Too busy for pictures, but you get the picture.

The menu: Oven roasted 25 pound turkey, cornbread dressing with giblet gravy, cranberries, sweet potato casserole, homemade buttery yeast rolls, corn casserole, fruit salad with pecans, green beans bundled in bacon followed by a choice of homemade pumpkin topped with whipped cream, pecan, or chocolate meringue pie coupled with fresh ground hazelnut coffee.

After the food, here are the cousins minus one.

This is the first Thanksgiving holiday we have had Clayton at home since his going to West Point.

My very silly guys all on big brother's back

I have learned if want to spend time with my college guys, I must keep college guy hours, so there were several nights when the chiminea fire lasted until 3 a.m. We watched the Hogs (our football team) beat LSU and are now ranked nationally #7. I managed to get in several rounds of a fast-paced Scrabble game. Lucy discovered she doesn't enjoy large crowds.

This morning Davis rattled out of the driveway in his Jeep, and the college guys are back at school. All I can hear is the peaceful napping of Lucy and Mac.

Today... the quiet in Hillcrest Cottage sounds like music to my tired, but happy, self.

Thoughts from a Fall Walk

2010-11-11T11:37:00.000-08:00

This, my fall- inspired knapsack, is perfect for holding my I-Phone tuned into Pandora Radio (Coldplay Station). I simply sling the pack onto my back and head out the door for a power walk. I know I have shown this knapsack before, but I recently added a new twist... the vintage 1952 "Paris in 4 Days" brochure and Paris Metropolitain map peeking from the pocket (iron on transfer method I have recently discovered... the possibilities become endless!)

On my walk I noticed how pretty the foliage is becoming.

Thoughts drifting through my head today went something like this:
Today is all I have right now; most days are simple, ordinary, and routine. Somehow,in the middle of doing all that calls my name, I am compelled to put an exclamation point on a sentence or two. There! I did it!

Even if I have to tell a funny story to my own self while pouring a cup of Tazo spearmint-flavored green tea from my owl tea pot...

... and while cleaning the plaque off my brain, I might raise my favorite Emma Bridgewater mug in a teatime toast.

Should I tell you about how my husband went to London, and I asked him to bring back this very, specific mug, and he had to walk into the shop asking for the "Blue Tit" mug? Maybe I shouldn't... but I just did... ha ha.

I will celebrate life, breathing, hot baths at night, puppy dogs who lick my ear, a family who lets me live with them, outdoor fires on cool nights...

... good oatmeal, the smell of chocolate chip cookies baking, warm covers piled high on the bed, my rickety fence in need of repair, the ability to love myself and enjoy my own company...

cheers!

P.S. I am looking forward to my favorite holiday, Thanksgiving, because of its simplicity: food, family, and a grateful heart.

I wish Christmas could take a cue.

Even More Estate Sale Fun

2010-11-10T09:21:00.001-08:00

I'm thinking that autumn is the best time for estate sales in my neighborhood. The crisp fall air brings out the shoppers... including me! I would tell you how much (little) I paid for these new and awesome red pillows... but, then, you know what I would have to do to you, and we don't want that.

Mac the Labradoodle graciously volunteered to pose amidst my new additions. The pillows have down inserts and are matelasse. I don't speak French, so I had to look up how to pronounce this word which I was pronouncing incorrectly: Matelasse

Gotta run some freshly baked brownies (addressed to my off-campus college guy who cooks for himself and exists on Dollar Store food) to the post office.

I'll be on my purple cruiser, of course!

Eggplant Art

2010-11-10T07:58:00.001-08:00

A friend gave to me these eggplants from her garden. They are so beautiful, I feel guilty eating them.

Soooo... if I am going to eat art, I need some suggestions on how to cook these lovely purple vegetables. Any recipes would be greatly appreciated.

P.S. I LOVE my "new" old Coffee Hound mug for which I paid $1.00. Currently, I am really "into" kitschy dime store ceramics from the 1950's. Inside is a hound dog and the back reads: Coffee Hound, Half Cupper, Kid Stuff. Soooo... funny.

New Item from Hillcrest Cottage

2010-10-31T10:23:00.000-07:00

Autumn is a great time for Estate Sales in my Hillcrest neighborhood. The element of surprise is always half the fun. I'll never forget a sale that I happened upon where the family was selling their grandfather's Vaudeville magic act stuff. Some spooky puppets and even a real mummy were included. I had a laugh when I was alone in a back room with a fellow shopper.

"Wow," I commented to the gentleman, "these dummies look like they could sit-up and talk." The man exited quickly upon pondering my creepy thought.

I am so pumped about my recent estate sale vintage fabric finds, that I must share what's new at Hillcrest Cottage (even before it makes it to the Etsy site!). This knapsack is sewn out of vintage wool fabric and the pocket is re-cycled denim.

I love to use a knapsack when I am walking or when riding my bike. They are perfect for IPhone, doggie poop bags, water, wallet, and car keys!

I love the autumn colors!

Denim goes well with most everything, but this picks up the denim-colored part of the plaid pattern.

Front side wool fabric.

Back side wool fabric.

Hillcrest Cottage will be selling these knapsacks through my Etsy site, by contacting me personally (Facebook or Hillcrest Cottage Life blog), or...

The Green Corner Store on South Main Street. I have always wanted to be on Main Street so this new partnership makes me happy!

Size: 14" X 14"

Retails for: $20.00

Estate Sale Booty

2010-10-25T06:20:00.000-07:00

This weekend my neighborhood was full of estate sales! That's a good thing... Martha.

I was driving home from teacher conferences on Friday and was suddenly caught up following a maze of "estate sale" signs. Before I knew it, the whole afternoon was practically over... oops.

My favorite house on the Estate Sale Tour was this fairy tale cottage. Getting the opportunity to see inside the estate sale houses is half the fun.

I love the 1920's architecture on the entryway and path leading to the door. I'm probably going to draw it sometime soon.

Here's a sweet, little suitcase I got for $1.00.

It's a fixer-upper, but I see its potential.

Three dollars for these vintage 1940/50's era hunt scene curtains. The colors are incredible!

1950's bridge club tablecloth: $3.00

These jeans were $2.00 and became...

this denim backpack.

For sale: $20.00

Beautiful red linen fabric: $1.00

Vintage 1970's seersucker bedspread in fun, fall colors: $2.00

Front porch fall makeover.

Estate Sale Booty Total Cost: $12.00

Hillcrest Cottage Random Friday

2010-10-15T07:45:00.000-07:00

Nothing like a morning which starts at 5:30 a.m. cutting and gluing for the 17 year old's procrastinated history project. Collarbone was hurting him, so we pitched in to get it all done. Late to school, but out the door with "1932- 1936 /The Golden Age of G-Men/The Great Depression" tri-fold poster in hand.

Whew!

After all the early morning wildness, Lucy votes for a mid-morning nap!

This just in, an emergency text message from West Point: Pray for my Arabic presentation!

Fire up the chiminea... it will be cool tonight. College boy coming home for the weekend, and we are planning fireside conversation! Happiness. Quickly clean his room.

Heading to the art studio. Things hatching in my mind need to be birthed.

Buzz by my neighborhood print shop with latest art creation. Squeeze in a power walk.

Pray that the Warrior football team doesn't sustain major injuries while facing the future state champs and football players 50 to 100 pounds heavier tonight at the away game.

My Hillcrest Cottage Friday.

Inaugural Crazy-Lady Ride

2010-10-13T06:21:00.000-07:00

I have three bicycles: A vintage 1972 black Raleigh English touring bike received the Christmas of my thirteenth year complete with fenders and a ding dong bell; a purple beach cruiser snatched up last spring from my neighborhood junk store; and my recent 21-speed legit Schwinn that will allow me to actually ride some real miles as soon as I find a new and more comfortable seat.

After the recent Schwinn purchase, I had contemplated selling the purple cruiser.

I couldn't.

The Cruiser is too near being the 3-wheeled cycle with a huge rear basket which has long lived in my fantasy life. I still dream of being the crazy- lady who rides her bike daily to the grocery store.

Yesterday, I strapped the best bike basket I have onto the basket spot of the Cruiser, preparing for the inaugural crazy- lady ride into my neighborhood's retail district, which we call "downtown Hillcrest" (because my neighborhood is like a small town surrounded by city).

There are not words to describe the joy I experienced. I mailed a package at the Post Office and deposited money at the bank. I felt a bit odd, but no one paid any attention to me at all. No one thought I was crazy.

I rode home feeling greener than Kermit the Frog, all the while a dream was hatching in my head.

I dream of a neighborhood where riding to the post office, grocery store, local coffee house and bank are not the exception, but the norm. I dream of becoming the most cycle friendly neighborhood around. Somehow I would like to champion this cause, but, until then, I want to make this biking thing a regular part of my life.

Change is Good

2010-10-08T08:22:00.000-07:00

I still live in the town where I was born... in a neighborhood that hasn't seen much change since my dad's high school days (1938-42). All my furniture came from my grandmother, and I am the family archives' official curator. There is a great amount of stability in keeping life the same. When I sit on a chair, open a drawer, or eat from my silver spoon, I feel the continuity of my lineage.

I try not to be boring. I re-arrange my furniture with great regularity. Moving things around makes me think I am getting something new. I have had fun pulling dressers out of bedrooms and plopping them unexpectedly in the middle of the house. My grandmother would think this placement would not be proper... it makes me feel like the rebel I am not.

I am known for painting everything. I paint the walls, the floors, the kitchen countertops, and the furniture. A while back, I painted a Victorian couch... defiantly under Grandmother Worthington's nose and all-seeing eyes, her crackled painted mouth smirked unapprovingly. I can report the universe didn't explode and, now, I actually enjoy the piece.

Do you think I look like Grandmother Worthington... minus the cracked mouth?

Still... I have always had trouble turning life's page into autumn. Fall is a season which comes just before "death". This time of the year makes me very reflective. Spring is a celebration of newness, but autumn is a final burst of harvest and color before colorless winter calls us to the quiet withdrawal and the darkness of shortening days. I've done this season-thing for 50 plus years now, so I know what is ahead... change.

Guess what? The leaves are going to fall, whether I like it or not. Change is coming. Will I embrace it and change myself to meet its challenges... or will I wear flip flops in winter and look like a fool? I do have a choice.

My 5 month old puppy is getting big!

Change.

Yesterday I decided to embrace autumn by walking down my favorite neighborhood path.

Change of Season.

Then, I stopped to enjoy the tranquil sounds of birds and think a bit about how I can embrace change, not deny it.

Change of Attitude.

There are changes everywhere. Season. Season of life. Our country. The world. I know I am not the only one feeling it.

I have to confess: I have read the end of the book.

I know what will be, and I find comfort in my knowledge.

"Behold, I am coming quickly, and My reward is with Me... I am the Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end,"

At the very same time, I am in hearty agreement with Martin Luther when he said, " If I knew Jesus was coming back tomorrow, I would plant a tree today."

Sprint Through the End

2010-09-28T09:35:00.000-07:00

I ran track in high school, so I really know what it means to sprint through (not to) the finish line. This Mom Race has been long and hard... and challenging and fun.

Many people may see the line ahead and say, "Oh, the race is almost over, I can slow down now."

Winners and losers. Champions and participants. It's the end which separates the runners into categories.

Only one more of these after this one:

No slowing down for this mom! No coasting on past victories allowed. It is time to get my second wind, to dig down deep, to run with purpose.

And... to lean over and grab my knees, to clasp my arms behind my head, to gasp for air and feel the pain... after the finish line is passed.

I want to run with no regrets, to know that I gave it everything I had to give.

Broken Bone and Shattered Dreams

2010-09-18T10:17:00.000-07:00

This is how the game ( and season) ended for #9. It was a touchdown stopping leap... and a clean break through the clavicle.

Big Waves and Peeling Paint

2010-09-16T07:37:00.000-07:00

Process. I need time in life to process. Life hits so fast that often I don't fully understand events and the depth to which those events have affected me. There are layers buried beneath the clean, shiny surface, like the ten plus multi-colored paint layers on Hillcrest Cottage's 87 year old woodwork.

The Summer I lived in Hawaii, we ventured to Makapu'u Beach, known for its world-class body surfing. Five minutes. That's all this Arkansas college girl lasted in the water at Makapu'u. The waves were 6 feet tall and very strong. The first wave knocked me down pounding my face into the sand. While recovering and grabbing some air, the second one was already pulling me outward. Glancing over my shoulder, I was horrified to see a wave taller than myself anxious to devour me again. For several minutes the sequence continued as I struggled to make my way back to beach towel safety.

Life can be waves hitting and pounding relentlessly one after another. I need 'towel time' to ask myself, "What just happened? How did I survive that?'

The Summer of 2010 was the hottest in recorded history. The heat for me was more than rising mercury; it was a landmark time, a piling of stones to remember. Part of the remembering is the thankfulness for how God pulled off a couple more miracles. We stubbornly believed Him for big things... and He said, "Yes." Yet...

... the 'yes' didn't come without the pulling and pounding and gasping for air.

There was struggling.

I'm glad to be on this towel. I'm glad to be thinking about a past event, no longer caught up in its emotion.

This morning I am on Hillcrest Cottage's porch with my eyes closed, listening to the gentle wind making its way through the trees. Mac the Labradoodle naps by my feet. Lucy, too young to appreciate the morning quiet has been banished to a nap inside. The hummingbirds have had their last summer feeding frenzy. They are gone to Mexico, and the feeder hangs silently. Occasionally a yellow leaf or two will float slowly to the ground. A signal of summer's last days.

The heat is gone, and I am left with the promise of the beautiful Autumn weather we Arkansans celebrate each year... complete with pumpkins, festivals, and Friday night stadium lights.

For everything there is a season and a time and purpose for everything under heaven. I know there will be more waves and heat and struggling to believe... but... for this morning... there is only the blue jay cawing, fresh air to be taken in, hope revived, and Bifferdoodle coffee in my mug.

Football Player's Letter to God

2010-09-15T07:03:00.000-07:00

Dear God,

I have sweat, trained, listened to my coaches, learned tons of difficult receiver routes, and have visualized success. I have endured spring training, have run drills until I wanted to puke, and have survived two- a-days in 105 degree plus heat. I have completed all of my daily work-outs, never cutting corners when the coach wasn't looking, sometimes staying late to do a bit extra. I have kept a PMA through difficult circumstances. I have tried my hardest to play through pain.

But, despite all my effort, I am discouraged.

First of all, I sprained my ankle the day before our first game. It is still painful and swollen. Sometimes my leg just quits working because of the stress. Secondly, yesterday was a very bad practice where nothing went right. The voice inside my head yelled at me to give up and quit. It told me that I would always be a rotten football player. When the football hit my hand, I think I broke my finger. This morning I couldn't tie my own shoe. I had to take my mom's car to school because I wouldn't have been able to shift my Jeep's gears. My finger is purple, and it really hurts. Oh, and one more thing, I have poison ivy all over my leg and have no idea where that come from.

How can a hand that does not bend catch a football?

More than my ankle and finger, I see the dream of my entire childhood slipping away. All I have ever wanted to do was to play high school football. I grew up watching my big brother and his teammates that I admired so much. I was the kid in the end zone playing my own game while watching the real one. I told myself I would be on that field one day. I saw myself catching passes, making tackles, and running the ball over the line.

Now it is my time. Time to turn dreaming into reality. I'm a junior, and the season is now.

I'm so discouraged, God. The mountain seems to grow, not shrink. It would be so much easier to quit.

And, besides all of the above, it just seems that evil people prosper. It just seems like You bless the bad guys. You know the ones: the players who are cocky and break all the rules and give our team a bad rep. The guys who tell fellow players, "You suck. You should quit." God, You know who I am talking about. I try to have intergrity, to do the right thing, to encourage those around me. It seem there is no reward for this!

Life just really sucks right now.

A Discouraged Foootball Player

Dear Football Player,

Even though it doesn't seem like it, I have seen all of which you have spoken, the good and the bad.

I've seen the faith you have had during those very dark August days when just putting on a jersey didn't seem possible. I worked some miracles to get you back for another year in your very expensive private school. Everyone who knew your situation, even your own parents, were amazed that you could believe the unseen so clearly!

It made me smile to see your faith in Me!

If I could do all that I have done, don't you think I can heal an ankle and a finger? Remember who I am!

And, about those bad guys, I want you to think about how beautifully a diamond shines against a black background.

Don't quit, Discouraged Football Player. It is always the darkest just before dawn.

Here's something I asked my friend Isaiah to write down for me a few years back. He wrote it to encourage you!

Do you not know? Have you not heard?
The Everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth
Does not become weary or tired.
His understanding is inscrutable.
He gives strength to the weary (football player who wants to quit),
And to him who lacks might (the will to overcome difficult circumstances) He increases power.
Though youths grow weary and tired,
And vigorous young men stumble badly (drop passes, run wrong routes, sprain their ankle, break their fingers),
Yet...
Those who wait for the Lord ( invite Him to help them overcome, ask Him to join the team)
Will gain new strength (mentally and physically);
They will mount up with wings like eagles,
They will run and not get tired,
They will walk and not become weary. (Isaiah 40: 28-31)

Football Player, I am with you at every practice, game, and in your mind where the discouraging voice speaks. I'm the One who created in you the ability and desire to play football! Surely, we will walk through this valley of discouragement together. The top of the mountain where you dream to reach is very far right now, but You are never alone.

I love you so much,

God

Labor Day Events

2010-09-06T12:09:00.000-07:00

Many things have been going on at Hillcrest Cottage the past month or so. Soon, it will be time to process and blog... until then, a few pics tell some of the story.

Beautiful Lucy Continues to Learn the Hillcrest Cottage Life: Four Month old Lucy can 'sit', 'shake', and tell me when she needs to go outside... most of the time. She also knows how to steal naps on my bed.

Davis Turns 17!

Number Nine Begins the Football Season

Cadet Kinley's 'GF Surprise' Labor Day Visit: We love this incredible GF very much... and... all the more because it draws this guy home more often.

Kinley Boys Home for Labor Day: Every mom knows how this feels to have everyone together... even if only for a weekend. These three guys are different in every way... except for their awesome-ness!

Daily life is definitely full of up and down struggles that can sometimes suck away all energy. It is important to jump in a helicopter and get the bird's eye big picture view. That's what this post has been about doing... and... I have to say... it is an encouragement to my own heart to see these images and be reminded that Hillcrest Cottage Life is a very blessed one.

An Untold August Tale

2010-08-04T08:31:00.000-07:00

One day soon, I might be able to write this story...

until then, I can only say,

"This guy is my hero."

Random August Snapshots

2010-08-02T19:44:00.001-07:00

Today it was 109 degrees, according to the Expedition's thermometer. For some crazy reason, our family decided to climb our local treasure: Pinnacle Mountain.

Climbing Pinnacle is a yearly family tradition. We like to do it in the summer on the hottest day we can experience. Ha... not really about the "hottest" part, but it has actually turned out that way several times. Once we had friends visiting from England, and we almost killed them... they had never experienced such brutal temps!

As each Kinley boy would turn 5, he could join the fun. My dad used to hike up the mountain in the 40's. I have many, many Pinnacle memories of my own from grade school to the present. There are stories of locals who hike up the mountain as many times in a row as they are old (50 times on the 50th birthday, etc.). Once or twice a year is enough for me!

I can only remember one other time in my life when it has been as hot as this week is predicted to be. Tomorrow will be 106, Wednesday 104 and Thursday 102. The heat is bad... and so are the Kinleys... for making it to the top!

A strange visitor on Hillcrest Cottage's porch.

The funniest napping position... ever.

Why do I feel the need to justify getting some new walking shoes?

The new ones!!! And with them comes a commitment to begin training for the Little Rock Marathon (March 2011). Training begins in September... I'm walking, not running.

Stuart is bonding with Lucy before heading back to college on Friday.

July at Hillcrest Cottage

2010-07-22T08:44:00.000-07:00

Summer is supposed to be slow and easy... especially in Arkansas where the heat and humidity can become quite oppressive. When humidity levels go down, every one's spirits brighten.

This summer has been anything but slow and easy. Stuart unexpectedly fell into an "everyday" job doing odd chores on a friend's horse farm. Being the breakfast maker and packer of lunches means no sleeping in for either of us. Davis, too, has been trying to make an appearance at early morning football work-outs.

My West Point Cadet being home for three weeks was a very pleasant routine breaker. Now, a new puppy has me tip-toeing around the house at puppy nap time and making frequent trips outside for housebreak training (which is going quite well, BTW!)

Meet Goldendoodle Lucy!

Last weekend I hosted an Art Sale of my own creating. I invited 15 artists to display and sell their work. Soon my Hillcrest Cottage was torn up and full of oil paintings and photography... everywhere. It was great fun but not enough of a financial return for the hours of preparation to ever repeat. It was wild. Use the imagination.

Closest moment to an "I Love Lucy" episode was when a 90 year old grandmother sporting three inch heels and a matching Queen Elizabeth-style handbag on her arm was found descending my very uneven and steep side-garden stairs. Unfortunately for her, she had come to see her grandson's work which, I had the unpleasant task of informing her, was... UP my also very steep and uneven basement stairs.

Jeff simply gave me "the look".

When all the furniture was back in place and the empty Coke bottles from the vintage coolers were taken to the trash. (I was even too tired to recycle or save the bottle caps as requested by one guest artist.), I told myself with a Thomas Edison-like confidence, " I just discovered one more way NOT to tell my art."

I've never been the type to parade myself and children to the pool each day. But, I do allow myself the summer luxury of wearing colorful flip flops, running shorts, and a t-shirt. It's the closest I will get to the Redneck Riviera... or any other vacation... this season.

So... I will sip some more coffee and treat myself to a few extra minutes under the front porch fan. Tonight I will celebrate the symphony of crickets and dream of the screened-in sleeping porch I will have one day.

June's Coming, Going, & Staying

2010-06-13T09:16:00.001-07:00

Coming: Cadet Kinley, on leave for 3 weeks, greets GF arriving from Colorado!

Going: Jeff, Davis, and awesome guys boarding their plane to London where they will spend a week in rural England encouraging fellow teenagers in local schools.

Staying: Mac the Labradoodle demonstrates "there's no place like home" in Hillcrest Cottage.

"Mr. Kinley, Tear Down that Wall!" - Part Three

2010-06-06T10:51:00.000-07:00

The plaster on Hillcrest Cottage's wall between Kitchen and Dining Room seemed to be in excellent condition. There were no major cracks, damage, or any signs that would indicate the need to cover the wall in a more modern gypsum board.

Hmmm... we wondered.

"Oh, look at these water spots on the flowered wallpaper, " observed Mr. Kinley.

There must have been some sort of water problem, but above is our bedroom with no source of water. That certainly didn't make sense.

More tearing. More revelation.

The 'water' spots began not at the top of the Kitchen wall but in the middle.

Hmmm... we wondered once more.

Notice the 'water' spots appear to be not water spots at all, but coffee drippings flowing down from a divot in the plaster. The divot is where part of the green leaf is missing. It's obvious that a coffee cup had been thrown across the Butler's Pantry!

The Great Coffee Revolt of 1946 sent overactive Kinley imaginations into overdrive.

Did the second owner (H.G. and Birdie who purchased the house in 1941) anger a servant by tapping his foot buzzer one too many times? Did something more gruesome happen after the coffee anger management incident that would necessitate a cover-up? Or, perhaps Birdie had wanted to fly the coop?

The secret had been hidden for 74 years... Hillcrest Cottage alone knows the true story.

And... as all other Hillcrest Cottage stories have gone, only part of the truth will ever be known...

the rest is mystery.

"Mr. Kinley, Tear Down that Wall!" - Part Two

2010-06-06T10:08:00.000-07:00

"Oh, my gosh! Look at this!" exclaimed Mr. Kinley taking a break from his wall demolition.

A quick explanation is in order. Most of Hillcrest Cottage's walls are plaster. This wall between the Kitchen and Dining Room had modern wall board placed on top of the plaster, a standard practice in lieu of much-needed plaster repair.

I hurried into the very dusty kitchen and gasped out loud upon viewing this:

CLASSIC 1940'S BLUE HYDRANGEA WALLPAPER!!!!

The hydrangea pattern upclose:

And... underneath the 1940's paper was a classic 1930's nod to the Orient complete with apple blossoms and birds in cages and sparkled art deco flourishes. The 1940's paper was firmly pasted upon the 30's paper, so a complete pattern was difficult to obtain, and the colors were very muted.

Underneath the 30's paper, and much more difficult to see, another layer of 1920's paper which seemed to match a swatch of 20's linoleum previously discovered on the kitchen floor.

Of course, anyone who had renovated an old home knows that it eventually all comes down to some shade of green. Notice the horse hair incorporated in the plaster on the plaster's right hand side:

This shade of green is actually going to be the the new kitchen's wall color. Full circle back to the original color.

I think the bank president's wife would approve.

Tomorrow... I will reveal : "So, that's why they covered the plaster wall with gypsum board!"

"Mr. Kinley, Tear Down that Wall!" - Part One

2010-06-06T08:50:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time, Hillcrest Cottage had three rooms (well, there were more rooms but only of these three are we now speaking): Kitchen, Butler's Pantry, and Dining Room. The Kitchen was very small with access to both a servant's secret stairway leading to the upstairs and a servant's exterior back entrance. The Butler's Pantry was equally small, but well- equipped with a small, modern gas heater for chilly weather (the white porcelain type that I had previously only seen in 1950's bathrooms) and a window.

The Dining Room was high-tech with a servant buzzer placed strategically on the floor at the man's end of the dining room table. Such was the life of a 1920's-era bank president and his family. In the age before TV, I have trouble imagining how the cook and waiters in white coats would spend the time in the small Butler's Pantry in between foot-buzzer summonings.

With the passing of the servant-era, the first wall came down, and the Kitchen and Butler's Pantry were united as one room. An educated guess is that this happened in the 1960's with floor evidence indicating a free-standing stove with no built-ins.

The cabinets, cook top stove and built-in oven were a 1970's update. At this time, the Butler's Pantry window was made into a french door leading onto the hip and new 70's 'deck'. Everyone was building a deck in the 70's! I can hear Lynard Skynard amidst the sounds of hammering and saws right now.

Hillcrest Cottage became the Kinleystead in 2000. By this time the hipster deck had seen its better days. Icy oak limbs during the fierce 2001 ice storm brought the deck crashing down, and, since that time, the Kinleys have had the infamous 'Door to Nowhere'. One of my favorite stupid comments by visitors is, "Why do you have a door that goes nowhere? You should build a deck!"

A typical response is, "We don't want a deck. That's the door through which we invite visitors- who- ask- stupid- questions to exit." This comment usually brings a chilling silence to those who don't understand our quirky sense of humor.

One day...I dream of a door which leads to a screened-in porch. One day.

Hillcrest Cottage has had major traffic flow problems. Whenever we entertain...which is sometimes 2,3,4 times a week, guests entering the cottage flow straight into the Kitchen straight to the food prep area causing the cook much frustration. I have tried everything to entice guests out of the Kitchen and into the Dining Room which included moving the Dining Room table into the Living Room. But... no one would flow!!!

Year 2010: "Mr. Kinley, tear down that wall!!!"

Come back tomorrow... the story is only beginning. I'll explain what caused Mr. Kinley to say, "Oh my gosh... look at this!" and "So, this what they were trying to hide?"

Twenty One

2010-05-18T10:02:00.000-07:00

Clayton is twenty one today. And I have decided to not post an embarrassing photo from his childhood.

I wonder where the time has gone but wonder more at how he survived having me as a mom. From the carrots he first spewed out of his mouth to the days of cowboy boots and hats to the Legos I sucked up in my vacuum cleaner to all the bugs we examined to the books we read out loud to struggling through spelling lists to struggling through friendships to discovering the power of football to discovering the power of girls to seeing a great goal achieved to hanging on tightly to that same goal until it becomes complete. I have been there. I never had a career or a job or weekly tennis matches or any social-climbing activities, so I could be there. His life became my life.

I'm sorry he had to be "the experiment", as the first-born is doomed to be. I'm sorry for all the dumb-mom moments along the way. I realize now I had a lot of growing up to do as well. I would do many things differently now...but there's a lot about which I have zero regrets.

I have been in his life through every milepost, and it kills me to not be with him to celebrate his 21st birthday.

Meanwhile...back at the Kinleystead...reminders that the clock still ticks.

Thanks, senior girls who write on obnoxious sophomore guys' cars wrongly parked in the senior's parking lot, for this reminder:

"Two more years".

I know how fast these two years will pass.

Random May Happenings

2010-05-11T08:04:00.000-07:00

I can't remember planting this...but...welcome to my garden anyway.

Have I talked enough about how much Mac the Labradoodle is loved? Anyone that doesn't think she is the cutest dog ever...I pity you.

Good-by Freshman Year of College.

I love it that these Black-Eyed Susans who are drought resistant and indigenous to Arkansas decided on their own to line my fence this season. Thank you... score one for the lazy gardener!

Camera Hijacking by 16 Year Old Boy...enough said.

FYI: Jesus is Coming Back This Week

2010-05-05T09:44:00.000-07:00

Today on a regular Wednesday, I was doing my daily correspondence, working on my Etsy site, and cleaning middle son's room. His freshman year of college is over, and he arrives back home tomorrow.

A knock. A "someone's here" bark from Mac the Labradoodle.

I walked to the front door to see who may be stopping by at such an odd time.

A package...not so unusual. My husband frequently receives parcels for various reasons.

But...this box was different!

That "FTD" logo really caught my eye...especially when I realized that MY name was on the label.

Inside the box was this:

With a card that said this:

Time out: It must be understood that my firstborn son is an incredible person, but gift-giving has not been his greatest strength. Once, two years ago, I received a candy bar for my birthday...which was incredible. I ate every bite and have never forgotten it. However, his modus operandi has always been: "I was going to get you a present, but...." Years ago I had accepted it would always be this way...which is fine.

But, today was different and surprising! Seriously...what mother's heart wouldn't be melted after reading a note like this...written by a West Point cadet...in the middle of finals... who is struggling academically. It is a priceless gift I will never forget...right up there with the candy bar.

So...FYI: This is a sign of the Apocalypse. Just thought my readers might want to prepare.

P.S. My husband reminded me that for Christmas '09 Clayton had given to me military strength pepper spray. How could I have forgotten that? My soldier's love language is keeping the people he loves "safe".

By the River with Mac

2010-04-29T07:55:00.001-07:00

"Hey lazy!"

"Huh?"

"River Trail time!!!"

"Hurry up! Walk Faster!"

Over the bridge.

Still havin' fun, but working up a sweat.

Down to the shore.

Sniffing shoreline trash.

The Arkansas River.

Hillcrest Cottage Roses

2010-04-24T10:31:00.000-07:00

Hillcrest Cottage's roses are in full bloom. Their wonderful scent fills the air as Hillcrest Cottage welcomes family and guests.