Chemin des Muguets

A Little Collection of Books

2012-01-29T12:25:00.001-08:00

"The Pocket Letter Writer", 1850

Antique Smalls have always held a fascination for me. Perhaps because of my diminutive height, I am most comfortable collecting children's chairs, tiny Chinese slippers, and little books. The books I collect, are not technically considered "miniature" - (which must measure no more than 3 in. high). Mine are in the 4 X 3 inch range, but still could fit in the palm of a hand or a pocket.

Frontispiece from "The Pocket Letter Writer", 1850

Among the small antique books in my collection are fabric-covered volumes in bright tartan plaid or flowery French chintz. But this being the period leading up to Valentine's day, I find myself drawn to tiny volumes of sentiments from the 19th century bound in festive red and gold.

"The Choice Gift", 1850

The covers of these books are adorned with blind and gilt stamped decorations of sweet putti, urns of flowers, and maidens with floral baskets and garlands.

"The Ladies Casket", 1847

Frontispiece from "The Ladies Casket ", 1847

A "casket" was a term for a Victorian lady's jewelry box. This book lists a gemstone, together with its sentiment and a poetical description, for each day in the week, and each month in the year.

"The Flower Vase", 1853

Frontispiece from "The Flower Vase", 1853

The above book contains a favorite theme of the period - origins and symbols of The Language of Flowers.

"Wild Flowers", 1846

To the Misses Hanson, Edgarton, Carter, Colman and all the anonymous women writers of these small and beautiful keepsakes, this post is affectionately dedicated.
Marjorie

A Highland Fling

2012-01-22T14:10:00.000-08:00

My Heart's always in the Highlands, and never more than on January 25th. For it's the birthday of Robert Burns!

On this day, lads and lassies don their tartans,

and gather the clans to honor the Scottish bard in song and verse.

So bring on the haggis, and join me on the dance floor for a Scottish reel or two.

Let's raise a cup to toast Robbie on the 253rd anniversary of his birth!
Marjorie

Have Leather Will Travel

2012-01-15T09:26:00.001-08:00

Leather Couture is big again, thanks in part to Lisbeth Salander, the heroine of 'The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo". Today's motorhead fashionistas would be inspired by the leather fashions on the pages of this 1920s Viennese clothing catalog.

Riding into the sunset,
Marjorie

San Francisco Je t'aime

2012-01-07T12:52:00.000-08:00

Souvenirs from a recent San Francisco getaway.

A classic retro neon sign

Open this private door at the Kensington Park Hotel, and you enter the under water world of the Farallon restaurant.

Jellyfish lights float across the restaurant's ceiling.

Window-shopping near Union Square. Uber-luxe trunks at Goyard

Walking a tight-rope in heels at Louis Vuitton - Quite a feet!

Some Ooh La La! at Neiman Marcus

The many faces of Lady Gaga as portrayed by children at Barney's

Strolling in the ancient Muir Woods.

Walking the Golden Gate Bridge.

An unexpected collage at your feet

Feasting on German food at the Soup Kitchen

Catching a whiff of Spring at a corner flower stall.

This City is full of so many wonderful things.

I shall return,

Marjorie

A New Year Beacon

2011-12-30T08:00:00.001-08:00

From a little lighthouse somewhere on the Central Coast of California-
A Message of Light, Hope and Love. May you shine on in 2012!
Marjorie

Snowflakes Dancing

2011-12-17T07:51:00.000-08:00

All over the world little dancers are performing in the annual Nutcracker ballet. I was no exception. Having earned my wings as a Christmas tree angel, I soon joined the corps de ballet of snowfakes, and finished my Nutcracker career as one of the Spanish (Chocolate) dancers in the Palace of theSweets. However, my turn as a snowflake was my favorite.

Still Swirling and Twirling, and Wishing you a Holiday Season filled with dreams of sugar plums and dancing snowflakes,
Marjorie

Living with Grace

2011-12-04T09:31:00.000-08:00

When she stepped off of the boat onto the Greek island she was surrounded by the Paparazzi, who thought Jackie Onassis had arrived. It was only my mother, Grace. I always thought she looked more like Elizabeth Taylor.

This December she celebrates her 88th birthday, and has begun a new chapter in her life. After living a busy and independent life, and a bad fall a month ago, she has moved into assisted living. It was something that we all feared, especially her. But my mother with her usual style and grace, has thankfully taken to her new surroundings. She is the "belle of the ball"!

Happy Birthday to this sweet lady, and all you other December babes,
Marjorie

Being Thankful

2011-11-21T19:14:00.001-08:00

It's Thanksgiving - a time to share, and a time to reflect on all our blessings.

Gratefully yours,
Marjorie

Yellow Bus Yellowstone

2011-11-06T07:09:00.000-08:00

This antique luggage label was found among the belongings in my father-in-law's steamer trunk. It is a memento of his college summers working as a waiter at the Yellowstone Old Faithful Inn.

So when we spied this yellow tourist bus on the way to Yellowstone last month, we just had to follow it into the Park. Amazingly, two of those 1930's era tourist viewing buses still exist today.

Where the buffalos roam!

Yellowstone's Old Faithful Inn

Old Faithful - Ready, Set...

Go!

Faithfully yours,

Marjorie

A Little Graveyard Humor

2011-10-27T17:11:00.000-07:00

Happy Halloween 2011!!
Marjorie

Cody Round-up

2011-10-05T10:59:00.001-07:00

Tourist Stop No. 1 on our trip across the US was Cody, Wyoming. A cowgirl and her cowboy could be very happy here for days. Buffalo Bill Cody (the famous turn-of-the-century showman, known for his Wild West show), was one of the founders of this town. In 1902 he opened the "Irma" hotel named for his daughter.

The Irma's interior is filled with game trophies and family mementos from Buffalo Bill's time, including the famous long bar a gift from Queen Victoria.

You can "chow" down in the saloon/dining room with the other tourists, or dine "al fresco" on the porch with the locals, and listen to country western music.

Then mosey on over to the 'art deco' style theatre across the street to catch a live cowboy revue.

Yippee - the "Traditions West" shop, a source for vintage Western style in all its manifestations, is just a few doors away.

And if you come to Cody in the Summer...don't miss the nightly Rodeo!

Happy Trails Partners,
Marjorie

What I Brought Back With Me

2011-09-22T13:15:00.001-07:00

A wee bit weary from a long cross-country trek, but busy unpacking my souvenirs. I will be back shortly with some "happy snaps" from the trip.

(The above New Yorker cover by Mary Petty has particular signifiance to me. As a graduate student I worked at the Syracuse University Art Collection, organizing the archive of husband and wife New Yorker cartoonists Alan Dunn and Mary Petty). How sweetly Petty's illustration has captured the delight of collecting "treasures" while on holiday, and the joy of bringing them back home!

Memories,
Marjorie

P.S. Le Garage Sale was a huge success. Thankfully, no rain. Many sales, but more went home as gifts to family, friends, and new pals Sophie and Bernadette. The antique French wine bottles went with young James who will display them in his new wine bar in downtown Geneva. Sweet Pea, our adorable stray cat, went back to his original owner, but after only one night away, he has found his way back to our family cottage. His next move is going to be to rural Vermont, with my three little nephews.

I Can't Take It With Me Sale!

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

I may have brought it all back home with me, but I can't take it with me on the road trip. Here is a notice for my upcoming end-of-summer garage sale.

Still tagging,
Marjorie

The Summer Parasol

2011-08-06T05:47:00.000-07:00

That's my grandmother, Florence Hubbard, (holding the second parasol on the right) at her Wellesley College Reunion.

I don't remember her, but the family cottage is full of her mementos.

Her school books, mostly on the subjects of Art and Natural History, have always resided on a shelf next to the fireplace. And in a dark corner in the hall, as if waiting for her return, is her parasol. It is there that I discovered it one summer, and it soon became a constant childhood companion. How did that fragile paper confection survive its career as a prop for my daily whirling, twirling and dancing on the lawn, fashion shows, theatre productions and dress-up parties? In quiet times, it shaded and guarded me from the noonday sun. This is one special family keepsake which will definitely not make this summer's garage sale. So its back to your corner, Dear Friend. Be patient, the next generation - little Emma, Mila or Lila Grace will soon discover your hiding place.

Still Whirling and Twirling,
Marjorie

Just an Old Bag

2011-07-24T05:57:00.000-07:00

It's not just any old bag mind you, but a special gift from a dear friend. This old handbag has my name on it. And when Bethany found it at a local estate sale, she knew I just had to have it. The previous owner, another Marjorie, adorned the front with our name in various colors and lettering styles. It seems she was a bit of a frustrated artist too. Over the years she lovingly mended the plastic trim with black electrical tape, in an effort to replicate the faux black plastic trim. This funky old bag is a reminder of just who I am, and never fails to bring a smile to my face.

With a bag full of love and gratitude,
Marjorie

Le Garage Sale

2011-07-09T10:38:00.000-07:00

Tis the season for garage sales. Every week the local newspaper arrives groaning with listings. And I ask myself: "Sale or No Sale?"

My adventures with garage sales began some years ago when I purchased the contents of an old house. That summer was spent cleaning the house out, and come fall I held a mega garage sale. I proudly sold antique white Victorian clothing for $1. a piece, and gave away box after box of old paper ephemera away. Since those days, I've become a bit more sale savy, and have hosted garage sales in just about every place I've ever lived.

I smile when I remember the garage sale in our apartment in Beijing (on the 18th floor of a highrise "foreigners" building). After hours, the doorbell rang, and in danced a bevy of the the building's maids who were looking for some great deals. Over the years, I've done my share of donating to local charities, and have left many goodies by the curb for fellow dumpster divers. Then there is the fond memory of our Aussie friends (who at my going away sale) chipped in to help, and to help themselves to our treasures. How nice it is to know that we left a little of ourselves downunder!

So it seems there is yet another garage sale in my future. Now that I am California based, I must empty out our East Coast storage unit, and ready the family cottage, (which is being passed to the next generation). Any tips from any other veterans of the garage sale wars out there would be greatly appreciated.

Wish me bonne chance,

Marjorie

Patriotic Concert - July 2, 1916

2011-07-01T10:39:00.000-07:00

"And crown thy good with brotherhood from sea to shining sea!"

by Katharine Lee Bates

Happy July 4th, 2011.
Marjorie

Back in the Hammock Again!

2011-06-26T05:39:00.000-07:00

Not quite a lady of leisure! But settling in nicely with mother and cat at the lake.

A Gift from the Finger Lakes

Savoring the Season,
Marjorie

Sweet Pea - The Return of the Native

2011-06-16T10:48:00.000-07:00

Some of you may remember last summer when a scrawny little stray cat came calling at the cottage screen door. No one I asked knew its story, except that according to local legend, it had spent two winters alone in the old garage. We gladly offered our hearts and home to this little waif. Thinking it was a girl kitty, we named it "Sweet Pea". But this little cat was full of surprises. She was a he!

Come Fall, "Pea" went to board in town with my friend Sandy on Main Street. Right next door is The Historical Society, and both staff and visitors to the Museum were quite taken with the cat, (who never missed a chance for a pat or photo-op). But not so taken with him were my friend's other feline pet, or the neighborhood townie cats, who bloodied and bullied poor "Tux", (as he was now called).

A telephone call from Sandy suggested that it would be best for all if the cat returned to the safety of its summer lakeside retreat. So great - he's back! Not so great, the worry of finding him more permanent digs.

Yet, we were in for one other surprise. When I encountered a neighbor from way down the beach road, I asked her if she would like to have a cat. As I began my sweet cat sales pitch, she said "Why, that sounds like "Jacob", my neighbor's cat - but he disappeared last winter."

OMG! "Sweet Pea" alias "Tux", is really "Jacob"!

Looks like we're all home at last!

Marjorie

Diving into Summer at the Lake!

2011-06-09T09:28:00.000-07:00

We've packed our bathing costumes, and headed East to the Scenic Finger Lakes Region of Upstate New York State, (where it ready feels like Summer!)

I am here for a few months, and will be reporting on some of the Region's shops, flea markets, antique shows, restaurants and wineries, as well as the return of a furry guest from last year's visit.

Everything is going swimmingly so far...except, that is, my antiquated computer dial-up connection. Got to love it!

Marjorie

LA Ranch Style

2011-05-23T06:36:00.001-07:00

In the 1930's the Will Rogers Ranch in Pacific Palisades, California was the height of LA Ranch Style. Rogers was an American humorist and Hollywood personality.

This is how the outside of the Ranch looked then...

The big room of the Main House -with Texas Longhorn cattle trophies, serape rugs, and Western style art and furniture.

A room in one of the wings - Note the chair in the corner

The Ranch as it looks today.

The Stables, corral and...

Stable Interior

Rogers was an avid horseman and polo player, and the Ranch is home ground for the Will Rogers Polo Club. Many of the greats of Hollywood's Golden Age once played here: Clark Gable, Walt Disney, Spencer Tracy et al.

This day it was Malibu vs. Santa Monica.

Now that's Polo Style!

Meanwhile, back at Hemispheres, a shop at 1210 Montana Avenue (Santa Monica), Ranch Style is alive and well. Their Monterey Furniture range is based on furniture pieces from the Will Rogers Ranch. They also carry Mexican serapes, Native American carpets, and a dazzling array of ikats, Chinese textiles, woodblock printed textiles...

Oriental rugs,

and rare Suzani embroidery from Central Asia.

One little "doggie's" home on the range!

Happy Trails,
Marjorie

Los Angeles - Je t'aime!

2011-05-15T09:14:00.001-07:00

"Le Weekend" of Mother's Day found us in Los Angeles, California. One of the highlights was a visit to the Getty Museum.

The current exhibition, "Paris Life & Luxury". documents a day in the life of fashionable 18th century Parisians. Entrez svp.

Pardonez-moi, no cameras allowed in the exhibit. But one of the posters(pictured above) hints at the exquisite tableau's of 18th century treasures such as paintings, drawings, textiles, dress, and books.

Even the Getty's Central Garden had it's Paris face on - with the azalea pool maze, parterres of native California plants and bougainvillea umbrellas.

In the garden, the designer - Robert Irwin has combined stone and water into a natural sound and light show.

The Pièce de Résistance!

Thanks to our pretty tour guide and daughter - Merci
Marjorie

Queen of the May

2011-05-01T09:12:00.000-07:00

"But I must gather knots of flowers,

And buds and garlands gay,

For I'm to be Queen o' the May, Mother,

I'm to be Queen o' the May."

Alfred Lord Tennyson

Bouquets to all,
Marjorie

Antique Wedding Keepsakes

2011-04-25T09:21:00.000-07:00

French Bisque Clasped Hands

19th c. Belgian Marriage Announcement

For William and Kate - Love Unites!
Marjorie

On Rabbit Time

2011-04-18T11:40:00.000-07:00

This may look like the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, or a dandified Easter Bunny. But it reminds me of my grandfather. Born in England, but raised on the prairies of Kansas, he never lost his gentlemanly ways. He wore a vest, (even when gardening), with a special pocket for his big gold watch on a chain. And he had a reputation for being very prompt. It all began when he was invited to a dinner party, and arrived so far ahead of time that he caught the host and hostess in their dressing gowns. Thereafter, he would receive invitations specifying the start time a half an hour later than the actual start time, that way he would arrive just in time.

I inherited this trait. I arrive über-early for movies, to appointments and at the airport. So in keeping with family tradition, I would like to wish all you blog bunnies “Happy Easter” – before “I’m late for a very important date!”

P.J.’s granddaughter,

Marjorie

Before e-Books There Were...

2011-04-11T13:07:00.000-07:00

New Books from Larousse - 1910/11.

Today in 2011, we not only have the traditional books printed on paper, but also e-Books. One hundred years from now - what will they be reading?

It's a real page-turner, Marjorie

Milady, Your Figure!

2011-04-02T11:17:00.000-07:00

Milady looked at her figure in the mirror, and was not amused. Time to get in shape for the summer swimsuit reveal. So when she pulled this vintage album out of the record bin at The Last Chance Mercantile, it seemed just the trick. Long before there was Jane Fonda, Susan Carroll was the reigning authority on figure reduction and control.

So she'll get a leg up on Le Can-Can...

and waddle like a duck!

In the hope that Ms. Carroll is true to her promise that "a few minutes a day will help any woman keep slim, fit and alluring!"

Making it burn,

Marjorie, a.k.a. Milady

Lady Carpenter

2011-03-27T17:59:00.000-07:00

"Miss Connie Wade (Lady Carpenter) at work at the exhibition. The women greatly admired her handicrafts." Vintage Photopress photograph from the National Women's Institutions Handicrafts Exhibitions at the New Horticultural Hall, dated 10-11-1932. In honor of Women's History Month. Cheers My Dears, Marjorie

Number One Son

2011-03-13T08:37:00.000-07:00

When he was age two we took him to his first Chinese restaurant named "The Golden Dragon". After the meal, he enthusiastically proclaimed "Yum. This was so good, it must be dragon!" Ever since he has been intrigued by all things Asian. Always a curious and independent boy, his undergraduate engineering research project was designing and making a wave machine.

Soon after graduating with a degree in mechanical engineering, he was off to the Far East, and has not looked back since. First there was a master's degree from the Hong Kong University of Science and Technology; this was followed by a stint on a Chinese research vessel in the South China Sea, and then a summer as a computer support engineer at a remote scientific base in Antarctica.

He currently resides in Shanghai, and works across Asia in the weather and water monitoring fields.

You may have guessed where I'm going with this. A few days ago, the telephone rang here at 4:30 in the morning. It was Mark. He spoke to my husband saying "Do Not let Mom turn on the television until I speak with you first!" He was, and is, in Tokyo, Japan. He had just gotten off a train, and was standing in a parking lot when the earth began to tremble. He went down on his knees until it ceased, and then walked 4 hours back to his hotel. He keeps emailing me that he is okay, but he fears most for some of his Japanese colleagues.

I pray for my brave boy, and all the brave sons, daughters, moms and dads of that beautiful country.

Please bring them all home safely,
Marjorie

Norwegian Arts and Crafts Book Papers

2011-03-04T10:28:00.000-08:00

One day many years ago, while visiting Norway, I wandered into a small bookshop in the old part of Oslo. There on a long table were stacks of patterned papers. I soon learned that these were from the workshop of the famous Norwegian bookbinder and book artist H.M. Refsum.

Refsum worked in Kristiania (later called Oslo) from the mid 19th to the early 20th century. A master bookbinder in leather, but he really seemed to excel at decorating paper, which he used as endpapers, and also to cover books.

He employed a number of familiar paper printing techniques, such as

Marbling,

Woodblock or Linoleum Printing,

and Stencilling.

But he also experimented with texture,

Combing,

Finger Painting,

and other techniques to manipulate the paints and ink on the surface of the paper.
His color palette and aesthetic seem to have been greatly influenced by the natural history of his native country, for example Reindeer Moss, the fjords, mountains, and the

Marine Environment - coral, sea urchins and jelly fish.

In the field of Book Arts, H.M. Refsum might be to Norway, what William Morris was to Great Britain.

A hundred years later his decorative papers still look fresh and modern.

Loving Refsum's turn-of-the-century take on sixties' tie-dye,
Marjorie

A Day In One Children's Garden

2011-02-19T08:21:00.001-08:00

"Sing a Song of a Garden"

Welcome Earthlings to the Small Planet Garden (est. 1997) at the Monterey Regional Waste Management District facility in Marina, California.

Children and adults learn about waste reduction, reuse, recycling and composting.

Outdoor Learning Area and Greenhouse

Classes "en plein air"

Compost Demonstration Area

Organic Gardening

Garden Elements from Recylced and...

Salvaged Materials

Everything's "Just Ducky" in the Garden!

Just one of many children's gardens on this beautiful planet!

Digging it,
Marjorie

Cupids on the Ferris Wheel of Love

2011-02-08T15:07:00.000-08:00

They say: "Love Makes the World Go Round!"

Happy Valentine's Day 2011!
Marjorie

Paris Ballet Sketches

2011-01-29T09:57:00.001-08:00

Paris, je t'aime!

I love the Ballet, and these sketches of Parisian ballerinas.

They are the work of the American artist Rufus Dryer (b. 1880 in Rochester, New York). In 1901 Dryer studied in New York City with the artist Robert Henri, and in 1908, went with him to paint in Europe.

Dryer settled in Paris in 1910. He had his studio there for twenty years. He studied at the Academie Julian, and exhibited at the Salon d'Automne and Salon des Independents. These sketches must date from that time.

The three sketches above seem to show the influence of Degas' sculpture "La Petite Danseuse de Quatorze" (Little Dancer of Fourteen Years) of 1881.

Rufus Dryer returned to his native Upstate New York in 1930. He and his sister, Leora (also a gifted artist) maintained a studio at their home Highacres, in Geneva, NY. When he passed away in 1937, the Geneva Historical Society was gifted with a monumental Aubusson carpet which had once hung in his Paris studio, an impressive collection of his paintings, and a death mask of the artist. I first encountered this artist, and his work, when I visited the Museum as a young graduate student. I was looking for a subject for a final project, and I became fascinated by the story of Rufus Dryer. It was thrilling years later to unearth these sketches in a little antiques shop in New York State.

Here is a bouquet from me to three of my favourite Ballet kindred spirits, who appear regularly in the blogsphere: Catherine from A Thousand Clapping Hands and Boxes and other Structures , and Anita from Castles Crowns and Cottages, and of course, Ballet News .

Reverence,
Marjorie

Aqua Vitae - Monterey Bay

2011-01-19T08:02:00.000-08:00

Visit the Monterey Bay Aquarium for a glimpse of what lies beneath.

Mysterious,

Ethereal,

and Gossamer

Sea Sprites perform

a Hypnotic Ballet.

Teeming with Life,

Grace,

and Endurance,

...They dance and swim against a backdrop, as ornate as a 19th century Victorian fish bowl.

Meanwhile life on the top of the Bay goes on...

Still Riding the Waves,

Marjorie

The White Deer of the Senecas

2011-01-06T13:27:00.001-08:00

Driving down Rt 96A in Upstate New York, along the 24 miles of chain link fence of the old Seneca Army Depot, you might get lucky and see a white deer.

The Depot, now retired, was a storage site for weapons from WWII to the Gulf War. The mysterious white deer were first spotted in 1949. Growing up, we kids imagined the deer's colorless fur was due to exposure to some nasty chemical compound. Actually, the deer are not albinos, they do not have red eyes. They are a recessive form of white-tailed deer. The Seneca herd which numbers about 200 animals, is the largest of its kind in the world.

White deer are part of Native American oral tradition, and were known as "Ghost Deer". I prefer to think of them as "Snow Deer", roaming the wintry landscape.

"It has long been predicted that there would come a time when a white male and female deer would be seen together, and that this would be a sign to the people to come together." Lenape Indian Prophesy

Hoping this prophecy comes true,
Marjorie

P.S. If you would like to read more about the white deer, click here.

Toasting the New Year

2010-12-31T08:08:00.000-08:00

New joy to you.
New Courage too.
New Strength to last
The New Year through.

Salute! Here's Looking at You Kid! Gan Bei! Skol! Down the Hatch!
and my favorite Cheers!

HAPPY NEW YEAR FOLKS!
Marjorie

p.s. What's your favorite toast?

Happy Elves of Blogland

2010-12-20T13:41:00.001-08:00

Dear Merry Elves of Blogland (and Beyond),

Thank you for your gifts of beauty and light!

Wishing each and everyone of you...

A Season of Joy and Love,

Marjorie

Simple Toys...Simple Joys!

2010-12-10T13:04:00.000-08:00

Remember When Children's Toys were Unplugged and Simple?

Before we communicated via iPhones...

Before the uncontrolled spending on Black Friday?

Before Barbie and Ken?

When we would take time for a tea party with our friends.

Yes, some activities were stereotyped, while others were just...

Preparation for life.

My children spent many happy hours in their Playroom (formerly a second floor kitchen of our first house). There, amidst an array of art materials: pots of paint (finger and tempera), big fat brushes, and long rolls of newprint, they were free to create. Daddy's old Brooks Brothers shirt, when worn backwards became a smock, and the old white ceramic sink was perfect for washing up. On rainy days, a large cookie sheet filled with cornmeal became an indoor sandbox. Early recyclers - we cut cereal boxes into jig saw puzzles. And of course, we mixed up our share of big batches of play dough. Bath time was fun too - when, with the addition of a few drops of blue food coloring, it became a dip in the Ocean. Good Times!

Please play with me, and Share your memories of your favorite Simple Toys.

Marjorie

P.S. Take a peek at the blog A Femme d'Un Certain Age. Tish asked me to contribute to her Christmas post on Gifts that Cost Nothing. (In my case almost nothing!)

The Lone Cypress

2010-11-29T16:22:00.000-08:00

The winter tree against December's sky

Has never stood more poignantly than now;

There is no leaf to soothe its tragic lines.

But far beyond the landscape of the eye,

Within the core, within the barren bough,

Faith lies with life, inseparably entwined.

Poem by Dora Hagemeyer (1891-1989)

A Poet of Nature, the late Dora Hagemeyer was a fixture of the Carmel, California literary scene. For fifteen years, her column the "Poetry Corner" appeared in the local newspaper, The Pine Cone.

Spending this December on the California Central Coast, not far from the scene in this painting.

Marjorie

Doing the Turkey Trot

2010-11-22T10:41:00.001-08:00

Since Thanksgiving is here...

Let's talk Turkey.

These brave wild turkeys were recently sighted in downtown Marina, CA.

Checking in at the local mall and post office...

They then took to the sidewalks...

And paused for a political campaign endorsement...

Made a pit stop at the local Chevron station...

Then were off ... Scurrying into the bush.

Some nights when I open the bedroom window, I can hear the sound of wild turkeys in the back field. Some nights I also hear the howl of coyotes , and I wonder if they are having turkey for Thanksgiving dinner too.

Gobble-Gobble...
Marjorie

Evening at the Mission ~ Night at the Hacienda

2010-11-16T16:03:00.000-08:00

Travel down the Camino Real of California's Central Coast, and you will come upon the 18th century Mission San Antonio de Padua, the third of the missions founded by Father Junipero Serra.

Each year the Mission hosts an "Evening in the Garden" festival. The entire complex is adorned with church candles, swags of autumn leaves and tables with arrangements of nature's bounty.

Costumed musicians play music evocative of both the Colonial and the Hispanic heritage of the area.

The tables are laden with local food and wines.

And the paths in the Garden are lit with luminaries.

One mile down the road is the Hacienda Guest Lodge - a perfect place for a sleepover.

The Hacienda is a Spanish revival white stucco and red tile roof building. which was built by newspaper tycoon William Randolph Hearst in the 1930's. It was designed by Julia Morgan who was the architect of his San Simeon Castle. Hearst used the Hacienda as a working ranch, and as a guest house for his famous friends-Jean Harlowe, Clark Gable, Errol Flynn, Marion Davies, Will Rogers, and Dick Powell.

In 1940, Hearst sold the building to the US Army. Today the Lodge is located on the grounds of Fort Hunter Liggett Miltary Reservation, but is open to the public. There are 4 tower rooms, 2 garden rooms, and 5 cowboy rooms with bathrooms down the hall. So you can stay in a room once occupied by Clark and Jean, or Erroll. Oh if the walls could talk!

Many touches from Hearst's day remain-including this mural in what is now the breakfast room.

At the entrance to the base, is this old general store. It will soon be the site of a group tasting room for the wineries of the San Antonio Valley wine region. This undiscovered area produces some outstanding full-bodied red wines.

Already Planning a Return Trip,
Marjorie

A Happy Girl in the Kitchen

2010-11-01T14:53:00.001-07:00

We knew that an eery scene lurked behind the door of the fruit cellar in the basement. Inside were shelf after shelf of old Mason jars filled with murky liquids of unknown contents, which seemed to continually bubble and ooze. To us kids these looked more like failed anatomy experiments,

than successful turns at domestic science.

No wonder that it took me years to appreciate the nuances of home preserved food.

But happily today I am a convert!

That is why I am so delighted with our new "foodie" neighbor...

happy girl kitchen

This inspired food concept business was created by the husband and wife team, Todd and Jordan Champagne. Well-known on the local outdoor organic market scene, they are producers and retailers of fine preserves and canned goods sourced from local organic produce. Recently they opened shop in Pacific Grove, CA.

There in a state-of-the-art professional open-view kitchen, they prepare their popular Happy Girl Kitchen products, which are sold in-house and on-line,

and hold workshops on Home Canning and Preserving Techniques.

Workshops on Raspberries, Blackberries and Strawberries; Heirloom Tomatoes; Apples, Pears and Quince; Pickles; and Marmalades.

A cosy cafe serves excellent teas and coffee, and delicious old-fashioned cinnamon buns.

Proponents of "food that feeds your soul", the owners are very community minded, and envision this space as a multi-functional food event center.

Yum!
Marjorie

Harvest and Halloween 1905

2010-10-24T11:56:00.000-07:00

Antique Leaf-Shaped Dance Card ~

Harvest Dance, September 28, 1905.

Fill your dance card, and Grab your partners for the traditional Waltz, Two Step, and the extra dances: The Pumpkin; The Corn and The Y.M.L.C.

And three days later, don't forget to come to the Y.M.L.C. hall for the Halloween Party and "The Ghost Walk"!

Dancing Under a Harvest Moon,
Marjorie

Guardian Angels

2010-10-14T15:06:00.000-07:00

I believe in Guardian Angels.

This week I had my yearly mammogram. It reminded me of that time fifteen years ago, when a host of real-life Angels guided and protected me on my path, as I became a breast cancer pilgrim.

We had just moved back to the US, after years of living in Europe, and I had gone alone to get a mammogram. Right on the spot I was told that they had found a possible cancer.

The first Angel appeared the following day, my new ob/gyn. He viewed my mammogram, and while doing a physical exam, found another suspicious mass, (not the one on the films). Immediately, he arranged for me to go into Boston, to meet with a surgeon colleague of his. The surgeon reviewed the films, examined me, and declared that it was "Nothing!", and said to come back in six months.

Relieved, we drove back home, were just about to pop open the Champagne, and toast our good fortune, when the phone rang. It was Dr. #1, he was certain he had felt something, and he wanted me to have a biopsy of both places. The subsequent biopsies revealed that what the X-ray technician had found was not cancer, but what Dr.#1 had felt was. In addition, a follow-up test also found a tumour (not related to my breast cancer) in my lung. So Dr. #1 probably saved my life!

During the next months other Angels of comfort included: a new circle of friends and neighbors who drove me to every radiation treatment; Arlette in Belgium who lit a candle for me in the Leuven Cathedral; my daughter who flew across the country; my son who came from China: and my husband. Though he formerly fainted at the sight of blood, he bravely sat holding my hand through every chemo session, never failing to tell me how beautiful I was.

And then there was the Angel Raphael. After my lumpectomy, I had surgery to remove a lobe of my lung. Every day for a week, I was visited by Raphael, a kind and gentle hospital technician who would take my daily chest X-ray. (Ironically, I recently learned that in religious mythology the Angel Raphael represents "God's Healing Force"). One year later, I was back at the hospital for an appointment; and while walking the halls, I encountered Raphael. "Hi Raphael", I said. "Hi Marjorie", he said - followed by "I remember you in my prayers every night." Not only did he remember my name after all that time, but he contimed to pray for my health!

All this was fifteen years ago. My mammogram this week was fine, so I am still being carried on the wings of "Angels."

Counting my Blessings, and Praying for you too! Marjorie

P.S. I knew I was getting better when I wanted to get out and go antiquing!

Barrels, Burlap and White Linen

2010-10-04T16:32:00.000-07:00

Up bright and early ~

and off to the Remnants of the Past Antiques Show down the Coast in Nipomo, CA.

Have Cart will Shop!

The show's promoter, and blogger Judi Watkins.

With a backdrop of mountains, amidst the scent of flowering citrus trees~

Burlap covered hay bales set with white linen~

where special guest, Shabby Chic's Rachel Ashwell, was to autograph her books.

First stop was an audience with blogger royalty~

The Brocantess et moi!

Rustic Chandelier in the Barn.

Emilie M. (blogger/artist) brought her wreaths of cut-outs from old paper which were featured on Martha's televsion show and magazine and in her calendar.

Antique and Vintage French Holy Cards.

Buttons galore, as well as this collection of spools of silk thread.

Timeless Antique Designs by Kymberley Fraser of 3 Fine Grains.

Au Revoir!

Back on the Antique Trail,

Marjorie

A Cowboy's Sweetheart

2010-09-23T12:50:00.000-07:00

Yee-Ha! The night of our first date he arrived wearing cowboy boots and blue jeans. I thought that was pretty brave. Here I was a serious art history major (working on my master's degree in Museum Studies), and I had never seen anything like it. He took me country western dancing at the Red Door North, and we have been two-stepping ever since.

Perhaps that is why one of our favorite waterning holes is the Corkscrew Cafe at Georis Winery in Carmel Valley, CA.

The winery and cafe are owned by the amazing Georis family. The two brothers were members of The Sandals, (one of the original surfer bands), and they composed the music for the iconic surfing film "The Endless Summer." They have now turned their artistic, as well as gastronomic talents to creating iconic restaurants, such as this, as well as Carmel's Casanova and La Bicyclette.

Lots of Cowgirls here,
including one of their wines,
which is called ~ Cowgirl Red!

The interior of the Corkscrew Cafe

The bar in the Winery Tasting Room

A Wagonfull of Lavender

Always a place to hang your hat!

Out West of the Great Divide,

Marjorie

My Teahouse Collection

2010-09-15T17:03:00.000-07:00

Whenever I am lonely for my life in China, I visit my collection of antique Chinese tea tins, and Once again I am sitting in the old Green T House in Beijing.

This was my place of refuge from the big noisy city,

and where I learned the Language of Tea.

I spent hours there ~

Tasting exotic varieties of this popular ancient beverage,

Sampling tea-based cuisine, and Creating tea lifestyle events and products.

Inspired by my new passion, each weekend I trolled the flea market at Panjiayuan (The Dirt Market) in search of tea artifacts. The mystery of the once fragrant contents, and the beauty of the colorful images (from Chinese history and mythology) first attracted me to the tins.

From the splendor of the Imperial court ~ where the Emperor frolicked with his courtesans;

to the lush green of landscapes dotted with pagodas and tea gardens;

to the glamour of actresses from 1930s Shanghai cinema;

to the optimistic propaganda of the Cultural Revolution, ~ it's all there.

How prophetic, that after we returned Stateside, I found this table lamp...with a base fashioned from an old Chinese tea tin!

Still dreaming the tea life,
Marjorie

Labor Day 2010

2010-09-06T08:37:00.001-07:00

Grab a hammock, and have a peaceful day!

Back to California from the East Coast,
Marjorie

The Cat Formerly Known as "Sweet Pea"

2010-08-29T13:59:00.000-07:00

The fields near the cottage were a tangle of wild sweet peas when a little stray cat appeared at our doorstep. We named her “Sweet Pea”, and she was just as sweet as her name.

We fed her, watched her grow, and made a place for her in our home and in our hearts. Along the way, we shared many adventures ~ sunrises and sunsets, cat naps, nights by the fire, and a memorable trip to the vet for her shots. Imagine our surprise when the doctor announced that we had a very happy and healthy little boy cat. So “Sweet Pea” became just “P”.

The fields of bright Goldenrod flowers announced the end of summer, and time for “P” to leave. Sandy (owner of Swansdown Antiques) has taken him to live in the snugness of her Main Street apartment. Not only does he have a new home, but a new name~”Tux” (short for tuxedo, which Sandy says he looks as if he’s wearing). We are lonely for kitty, but are thankful he will not be spending another cold winter alone at the lake.

But she’ll ~ I mean he’ll always be “Sweet Pea” to me.
Marjorie

Camp or Cottage?

2010-08-21T13:30:00.001-07:00

Our lakeside summer home has always been ~ "the Cottage".

When Aunt Margaret married Uncle Bob, and went to live in Vermont, she quickly adopted his way of calling the family cabin in the woods ~ "Camp".

Being an Easterner transported to California, I was thrilled to discover a shop in near-by Carmel Valley devoted to Camp and Cottage Lifestyle.

So, whenever I would get homesick, I would put on pink Minnetonka moccasins, and head out to Carmel Valley for a fix.

An old clunker of a truck was always parked out front of the shop, which consisted of a conplex of red clapboard farm sheds, which contained Molly's eccletic collection of: Adirondack, Twig and Hickory furniture; worn brown leather club chairs; primitive oil paintings;

Beacon and Hudson Bay blankets;

Feedsack pillows with colorful graphics, canoe paddles;

Skookum dolls; rustic lighting; birchbark souvenirs; baskets; vintage turquoise and silver trade pieces;

and other sundry trinkets. Tiny balsam bags with the scent of the forest were a popular take -home item.

The shop and yard are now empty, and a sign is posted which announces that the owner, Molly, has moved South. Come September, I see a road trip in my future.

Savoring my last few sunsets by the lake,

Marjorie

Three Bears Sited in Upstate New York

2010-08-07T06:19:00.000-07:00

Once Upon a Time There were Three Bears. I know what you are thinking, that I am going to tell you the story of Goldilocks and her three furry friends. But, this story takes place in the sleepy hamlet of Ovid, New York (down the East side of Seneca Lake).

Here, on a knoll overlooking the village green are The Three Bears. This is the name that the locals have given to the Courthouse complex (Circa 1845 - 1860) ~ four-pillar Greek Revival buildings, built in descending size. In 1976, these architectural treasures were added to the National Register of Historic Places.

There's Papa Bear...

and Mama Bear...

And Here's Baby Bear!

No one was home the day I visited. But unlike Goldilocks, I didn't go in and make myself at home.

Perhaps, I was too early for tea!

That's the End of My Bear Story. I hope you enjoyed it.

Marjorie

Kitty Home Come!

2010-07-25T09:40:00.000-07:00

Sweet Pea is her name. This adorable stray cat first came to the backdoor of the cottage needing a nuzzle and a meal. Ever since she has been the centerpiece of family life.

Sweet Sweet Pea

The kitty has even been granted special permission to nap on Grandma's favorite chaise lounge.

Lately, though, I have begun to worry about what will happen to kitty when I fly away home, and when the North wind begins to blow. I am told, not to worry... that she has already survived at least two Upstate winters (one even in the attic of the cottage garage). But Sweet Pea needs a real home. With that in mind, she has just applied for a position as chief mouse catcher and shop cat for Swansdown Antiques at Rose Hill Mansion in Geneva. Finger crossed she aces the interview.

Call me Smitten,,

Marjorie

"Stars" on Seneca Lake

2010-07-18T08:24:00.000-07:00

With blue skies above and the wind in your sails, whether you're in a "Star" or a "Comet", the sailing is keen sport on Seneca Lake.

Still Riding the Waves,
Marjorie

A Girl Can Never Have Too Many...

2010-07-08T09:35:00.000-07:00

Sally Patchins. Not a posh handbag like the Birkin bag (or as they say in the Beijing silk market, a "Barking bag"). It's a basket, but not like its wealthier cousin, the Nantucket basket. Still around these parts a Sally Patchin is a must-have.

Sally (1874-1958) lived in Patchinville, (near Wayland, NY in Steuben County), where she ran a cottage industry of hand-painted baskets from her studio. She did not make the baskets herself, often buying large lots from China and India. Most were utilitarian ~ sewing, laundry and market baskets which she adorned with her designs of birds, and old-fashioned garden flowers (hollyhocks, pansies, delphiniums...) Her work is colorful and cheerful, and some would say primitive.

From the Internet.

You can't walk into a local antiques shop, or show, and not see the fruits of her labor. Here in Upstate New York, The Wayland Historical Society owns a collection of "Patchins", and Steuben County named her to their Hall of Fame. She received national recognition when the Library of the National Museum of Women in the Arts, Washington, D.C., created a file with photographs of her work and information on her life.

One ardent fan owns a collection of 400 Sally Patchins! I am happy to own two.

First and Last ~ From My Collection.

Counting my blessings and my baskets,
Marjorie

(Posting from the Scenic Finger Lakes of New York State, USA)

Yankee Doodle Dandies

2010-07-01T04:27:00.000-07:00

Geneva-on-the-Lake, July 4, 1929

Another Fourth of July celebration at the American Legion. The headliners were local "hoofers", Dorothy Sebastian and Anita Page, who performed a Patriotic tap routine. A dazzling fireworks display followed.

Applause, applause,
Marjorie

Fish Tales

2010-06-23T03:24:00.000-07:00

Greetings from the Finger Lakes, Seneca Lake and

"The Lake Trout Capitol of the World"!

Big Fish and Little Fish - At the Cottage, Seneca Lake

Catching Up,
Marjorie

P.S. Handwritten caption on the back of this old photo postcard reads:
A part of the catch at Highgate Sprgs
Aug 20 '12, by Mrs. Hepburn and Walter.
More than 200 fish caught, only 92
strung here. Total weight 60 pounds.
Not a fish wasted: eight families supplied.

Le Vacation

2010-06-15T03:14:00.000-07:00

Ten Good Reasons for a Vacation:

#1 Two Moves in One Year - too, too much!

#2 Recent close encounters with a hammer and the door of the Chinese cabinet - OUCH!

#3 Long trip back home-delays, motel, shuttle, plane, cab: zzz!

#4 Open family cottage and sweep away winter souvenirs of mice and spiders;

#5 Missed Memorial Day - need to take flowers to the cemetery;

#6 See the girls from GHS, and catch up on all the local gossip ;

#7 Visit storage unit and start digging for lost treasure;

#8 Time for the Strawberry Festival at the church;

#9 Desperate for an antique fix - it's summer show season;

#10 Need my Mommy!

Will be posting this summer from the beautiful Finger Lakes in New York State!

Marjorie
P.S. My dear pal Bethany found this book for me.

Oh No, Not Again! We're on "The Edge".

2010-06-06T15:47:00.000-07:00

In 1969, there was an oil spill in the Pacific Ocean, near Santa Barbara California. 80,000 to 100,000 barrels of crude oil spilled into the water and onto the beaches of Santa Barbara County. 10,000 birds were killed. Soon afterwards, artist Claire Moore published a book, "The Edge", in which she vividly described in words and drawings the impact of an ecological disaster.

The Edge
Prose and Drawings by Claire Moore

The river stinks like slime but
boys jump in. They don’t mind

rivers like
old people
thickening
in their beds.

Fill levels and buries
the marsh and phragmites.
The mud hens, banished,
clutch their shadows.

A skinny winged gull
roosting in swamp
and spittle
echoes her mate,

an augur, blackened,
grieving, “The sea
my wilderness

profaned…”

And the heron.
Is that a heron’s
shadow, one, two,
one, stepping?

Afloat – a girdle of terns.
Terns trilling on the shore’s edge.
The terns rise up all together,
like a quivering cloud.

Whereupon the man
whose small brave body,
to an observer
like an exhilarated bird,
dives in – into the wave.

Oh buoyant bird
listening
to the desert
we call “Sea,”

the tide
slobbers over
thousands
of dead fish.

Fly! You wretched bird
pointing
with globbed beak skyward.

Run babies!
crushing the new-born
mollusks
with your little naked feet.

And my toes too break through
the caked sand.
But a cold brown foam
creeps forward.

It seeps down
into castanet-like clams
wasting their words
in secret burrows.

It seeps down into tubelike shells
into beings
stronger than waves
but stained.

Bodies spill
over the continental
shelf.
The planet dies
innocent
unseen.

Another case of history repeating itself!

Marjorie

P.S. Those of you who read my blog may recall that my grandfather was a charter fishing boat captain in the Gulf Of Mexico. As a child, I spent many hours exploring this special part of the world, and was in constant awe of the diversity of its natural history.

Note: The American artist, Claire Moore was born in New York City in 1917. Since the 1930s, she was writing prose and making prints. She studied at the Art Students League, and worked with David Siqueiros at the Siqueiros Workshop. Sponsored by Fernand Leger, she received a MacDowell Fellowship. Her books and prints can be found in many collections throughout the United States. She died in 1988.

Orange Blossom Time

2010-06-01T14:08:00.000-07:00

It is June, the bridal month, and the scent of orange blossoms is in the air.

Generations of brides' veils and bouquets have been adorned with these fragrant flowers ~ for tradition states that they bring Good Luck.

Our clan will soon gather to celebrate the union of our dear niece Jennifer, and her Andrew.

In honor of the young couple, and the McCaffrey ancestors I offer this prayer:

An Irish Blessing for the Bride and Groom

May green be the grass you walk on,
May blue be the skies above you,
May pure be the joys that surround you,
May true be the hearts that love you.

Love,
Aunt Marjorie

Design Chameleon

2010-05-22T10:18:00.001-07:00

Are you a design chameleon? I am. Just as a chameleon changes color to adapt to a new environment, I can change my style, or design aesthetic at the drop of a hat, or at a glimpse of a decorating magazine or a film set.

My personal design career began at age five, in an attic garret of the family home at 109 Maxwell Ave in Geneva New York. As kids, my younger brother and I were each given a room to decorate, and full reign of an attic loaded with miraculous clutter from many generations: tattered overstuffed chairs, framed prints, damasked curtains and other treasures.

Breaking early with tradition, (all the women in my family were partial to Williamsburg green interiors), my first one-room studio apartment was considered very Boho, with its white walls, purple and orange accents, and a Rya shag rug. Early on, I experimented with fashioning curtains from paisley Madras bedspreads and linen bed sheets. In one house I exposed all the brick of the walls, and in another I enthusiastically papered everything in sight.

Our ugly duckling wreck of a house in Massachusetts, became a sweet country farmhouse with the help of many gallons of Laura Ashley sage green paint. A more difficult decorating challenge presented itself in the form of a fifties retro ranch house in Geneva Switzerland. It was beautifully situated on “Chemin des Muguets”, in the shadow of the Salève Mountain, and with a magnificent Magnolia tree out front. But a few quirky bits made this the house that no one wanted. We instantly fell in love with it, especially wall-to-wall French doors throughout, which gave way to the gardens. Eventually, we also made peace with the dreaded shiny black ceramic tiles in the master bath by hanging some colorful framed fish posters from the Monterey Aquarium.

Over the five years that we lived in Europe, we enjoyed filling our homes with brocante finds. When we returned back to the States, these souvenirs gave a French twist to our 1800 New England clapboard home.

Later, while living on the 18th floor of a modern high rise in Beijing, we created a little corner of Old China: a Chinese wedding bed doubled as a sofa in the living room, and the kitchen was entered through an ornate antique lattice door.

From Shabby Chic, to French Country, to China Retro I’ve dabbled in it all. My most recent decorating incarnation might be described as Rough Luxe.

Our tiny cottage in Carmel-by-the-Sea sheltered a hodge podge of family pieces and flea market treasure.

Here is a section of the living room. I may have pushed the decorating envelope a tad too far, when I broke one of the main rules of "Decorating 101", and centered a framed picture above the fireplace. Another decorating violation was buying the faux seascape oil painting in the first place.

Next to the fireplace is a Scandinavian style chair. It was purchased at my favorite Australian op shop (charity resale shop). This was the same day that I met my soon-to-be good mate Linley, who was minding the store. As she helped me load the chair in the boot of my car, I asked her what she thought of my purchase. “Not much!” she quickly replied. It reminded her too much of family holidays at the beach. “But that’s exactly why I love it!” I remarked, trying not to act too disappointed. In spite of our aesthetic differences, we have remained dear friends. I love my chair with its squishy cushions covered in a faded retro patterned fabric. When I settle in it, and rub its bleached worn arms, I am transported back to happy times in our Flinders "bach".

On the move again, we’re leaving behind the tranquility of Carmel-by-the-Sea for the rugged landscape between the dunes and mountains on the other side of Monterey California.

Channeling the design chameleon within,
Marjorie

Flower Girls

2010-05-12T07:46:00.000-07:00

The showers of April have not only brought May flowers, but some hip new flower girls to town.

Tricia Perault & Lauren Orman have just opened Rose Hip Floral Design at The Crossroads in Carmel, CA.

The fresh eye of the owners is reflected in the succulent green of the shop’s exterior and business card, and the seductive hues of the floral inventory. Vintage McCoy vases, stacks of tatty books, and brightly labeled food tins (as holders), are just a few of their visual styling tricks. The shop is a breath of fresh air.

When, I asked the girls to create something quirky for my artistic Aussie friend, Linley, (in town for the weekend), they came up with this double bouquet of purple sweet peas in an Italian tomato tin. Bellissimo!

This must be the week for floral inspiration. Arlette Bossaert, my Belgian florist friend, just sent me some images of her latest work. She specializes in flower arrangements for weddings at castles in the Flemish countryside.

Meg from Pigtown Design writes that she will be devoting Sundays to flower posts.

Just scattering a few petals,
Marjorie

Educating Mother and Child

2010-05-07T08:13:00.000-07:00

Happy Mother's Day - 2010

Dear Mothers and Children,

Here are some wise words about motherhood:

"While we try to teach our children all about life,

our children teach us what life is all about."

(Angela Schwindt)

"The best academy, a mother's knee."

(James Russell Lowell)

"A mother's arms are made of tenderness,
and chldren sleep soundly in them."
(Victor Hugo)

Love from a proud mother-in-training,
Marjorie

Le Temps du Muguet

2010-04-29T13:17:00.001-07:00

The first of May is “Le Temps du Muguet” ~ The Time of the Lily of the Valley. All over France, in tiny flower stalls, and in grand fleuristes alike, Lily of the Valley is queen of the flowers for the day.

Children take to the woods to gather small sprigs, or ‘brins’ of these flowers and to exchange these as tokens of friendship and good luck. For it is said that these flowers not only signify the arrival of spring, but “Porte Bonheur” – bring good luck!

The delicate green floral notes of these woodland flowers have long been appreciated by the perfume industry. Coty’s Muguet des Bois was first launched in 1941. Then there is Caron’s Muguet Du Bonheur, and Molinard has a Lily of the Valley scent in its Les Fleurs de Provence range. In 2009 Guerlain introduced Muguet, with the intent of releasing an annual Muguet perfume each April 30th. (Sadly there will be no release this year.) The daughter of Annick Goutal, Camille, created a limited edition called Le Muguet. This was the first time Camille had produced a fragrance without the assistance of her late mother. Van Cleef and Arpels has Muguet Blanc. Others with Lily of the Valley inspired scents include Crabtree and Evelyn, L’Erbolario, Taylor of London, Penhaglion and Floris. Woods of Windsor claim that the recipe for their fragrance comes from 18th century recipe books found in their attic.

"Le Muguet du Métro" by Robert Doisneau

(Photograph, Collection the Auckland Museum)

I associate the scent of Muguet, with the childhood memory of my mother wearing Yardley of London’s Lily of the Valley toilet water. Ironically, my first overseas home was located on Chemin des Muguets (Way of the Lily of the Valley) in Genève, Switzerland. Hence the inspiration for the name of my blog.

Avec Bonheur,
Marjorie

P.S. This posting is dedicated to my sweet perfumer friend, Ashley ~ the only nose I 'noz.'

Drawing from Nature

2010-04-19T12:56:00.000-07:00

Some child of yesteryear lovingly compiled this Nature Journal.

Beginning this Sunday I will be attending the first in a series of four workshops on "Art and Nature: Drawing from the Collections at the Pacific Grove Museum of Natural History". The instructor is Erin E. Hunter, a graduate of of the noted science illustration program at the University of California, Santa Cruz. In the classes we will be working with various media, and explore plant and animal anatomy, drawing techinques, nature journaling, tips for sketching in the field, and color theory.

Here is one of my "before" sketches. What do you think?

Omnis Vero Natura Est!
Marjorie

East of the Sun

2010-04-12T16:51:00.000-07:00

Come each April our family would escape still-thawing Upstate New York for sunny Florida. Driving to Richmond, VA., we would then hop aboard The Silver Meteor train. After roaming back and forth through the cars, drinking Coca-Cola in the club car, and chatting with the ever gracious porters, we kids would finally fall asleep. The train would travel through the night, and we would awaken to the mysterious sight of the Okeefenokee swamp, and our first glimpse of mile after mile of orange groves.

My paternal grandparents were early snowbirds, and had settled on Anna Maria Island on the Gulf of Mexico, from which they ran a charter fishing boat business on their cabin cruiser, the “Mobjack”. They lived in a trailer park right across the street from the beach, with the most interesting cast of characters you could imagine: ex-Circus performers, a revival preacher, and my favorite, Mrs. P. Mrs. P. was a first generation Greek-American. A warm lovely lady with a thick accent, she made sweets for us, and delicate crocheted doilies.

Each morning she took her big black inner tube, and would bob in the waters of the Gulf for a few hours. One morning she paddled out, and sadly never come back.

Exploring the seashore and sandbars, we kids searched for the shells of horseshoe crabs and sand dollars. In the mornings, we cheered as the elders deftly played shuffle board; or in the evening, peeking through the clubhouse windows we watched as they played bingo. Some nights, my Grandpa would take us on a torchlight crabbing expedition. Other times, Grandma taught us how to dig for coquina (small clams). And then she would whip up large batches of her Florida version of clam chowder.

But most of all, we loved our time onboard the “Mobjack”. When they weren’t busy with paying customers, Grandma and Grandpa would take us out for the day. Grandma would maneuver the boat, while Grandpa fixed our lines, and brought in our catch – mackerel, kingfish, and grouper. The sight of schools of dolphins as they raced the boat, or of giant sleeping turtles lazing in the deep bay, captivated us. Back at the dock, my grandfather took pride in demonstrating to us his fish-cleaning skills – YUCK!

Sometimes the fog would set in. Then Grandpa would crouch on the bow of the boat, and yell directions to Grandma as she guided us safely back to our home berth on the Island.

Each year, I returned home from these enchanted vacations with many memories and souvenirs, which usually included layers of peeling skin, and always a small bottle of orange blossom toilet water - Pure Florida sunshine!

Both my grandparents are gone now, but I smile thinking of them climbing aboard the “Mobjack” and navigating out into the deep purple waters of the Gulf.

West of the Moon,
Marjorie

The Succulents are in Bloom

2010-04-05T13:47:00.000-07:00

Don’t you just love the word ‘Succulent’? It’s so juicy and delicious!

My earliest memory of succulent plants is of a monstrous pre-historic jade plant which lurked in the upstairs hall window of an elderly family friend. Over the years, I have learned to appreciate succulents, and am delighted that they are again in fashion. Today’s succulents have gone modern, recognized for their versatile, decorative and sustainable qualities.

On California’s Central Coast succulents are in bloom.

Amid clumps of low growing succulents, these lush giant yellow flowering spears stand sentinel at the entrance to the old Homestead Inn in Carmel.

Window boxes and pots of assorted succulents abound.

These greet visitors to Tancredi and Morgen, a charming shop in Carmel Valley.

Succulent heaven may be the sale held by the Monterey Bay Cactus and Succulent Society in San Juan Bautista, CA. The next one is April 24th and 25th.

Denise Fasanello, a New York florist who blogs as Little Pheasant, has enthusiastically embraced the use of succulents in her 'delectable' designs. (Thank you Denise for the use of these two lovely images!)

Imagine boutonnieres for the bridegroom and groomsmen fashioned from succulents!

(Photograph by Lance Iversen/The Chronicale)

Bay area Organic Mechanics have long been proponents of the use of succulents in their award-winning garden installations. For this year’s San Francisco Flower and Garden Show they created “The Living Room” a 12’ X 12’ cube whose exterior walls were covered with 19,000 aeoniums, sedums and other succulents in 20 inch flats. These were sourced from Robin Stockwell’s Succulent Gardens Castroville, CA.

In Australia, designer Daniela Moore has magnified the basic forms of the leaves, stems and branches of various members of the succulent family, and adapted these into motifs for her popular silk-screened textiles available at Tree in Flinders.

If there was a Tulip mania in 17th century Holland; and a Victorian fern craze in the 19th century, then we must be in the midst of a Succulent mania now.

Succulently yours,
Marjorie

Easter Confections in Paper from Paris

2010-03-29T08:25:00.000-07:00

For you, a bouquet of antique Easter paper ephemera from Tolmer et cie, Paris.

Happy Easter,

Marjorie

Ah Spring!

2010-03-22T06:25:00.000-07:00

And tulips, children love to stretch

Their fingers down, to feel in each

Its beauty's sweet nearer.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning ~ "A Flower in a Letter"

Savor the Season,

Marjorie

Chinese Ribbons - Ancient and Auspicious

2010-03-16T07:07:00.000-07:00

I am a ribbon fancier. Take me to a shop such as Bell-occhio, Mokuba or V V Rouleaux, or set me in front a box of antique trims and ribbons at a flea market, and I am in vintage textile heaven.

So when I spied a sack full of rolls of old embroidered ribbon at Beijing’s Dirt Market I was hooked. I soon became the stall vendor’s new best friend, as week after week I filled my big blue Ikea bags with these precious ancient threads. Then I found out that he made house calls. (In Beijing everyone makes home deliveries - the tailor, the nail lady, the Indian restaurant, the wine merchant). So every few weeks, the man from the market would appear at my door with a few plastic bags full of ribbon, which he would open and empty onto my dining room table. And then the bargaining would begin.

Most of the examples date from the late Qing era, at the time of the last Emperor, circa 1900. Their original purpose was to imitate hand-embroidery, and to trim garment robes, jackets and hats, or interior decorations. My ribbons are mostly machine woven. They range in width from ¼” to several inches wide, and in length from tiny swatches to many meters of a particular pattern. Rich in color, the surfaces are covered with graphic repeat patterns of Chinese characters, motifs, and symbols such as flowers, butterflies, and birds. Lately, the clever seamstresses of Beijing have been busy cutting antique ribbons up to make replicas of the the small slippers so popular with foreign tourists. So in a sense I was rescuing these textiles from such a fate.

Alas, my accessioning halted with our departure from China.

But, what to do with such beauty?

Taking lengths of the ribbon, I matched these to corresponding Chinese silver rattles (once used to adorn Children’s hats), and created necklaces.

From The Parrott Collection (Photograph courtesy, Pomme Gallery)

But I still feel these exquisite ribbons deserve just the right couture treatment.

Perhaps, elegant evening bags, or, as one friend suggested, Chinese ribbon patchwork quilts or throw pillows. I am open to suggestions. Any ideas out there?

Merci,
Marjorie

A Dog to Love

2010-03-09T07:53:00.001-08:00

I still remember that Christmas: getting up at dawn, rushing down the stairs, carefully plugging in the tree lights, and listening for any sounds of life. I was about five years old, and I had been lobbying my parents for months to get me a puppy. I swore to them that my allergies would not be a problem, nor would I allow the dog to annoy the grumpy old man next door. I WANTED A DOG! I was certain that my pleading, pouting and tears would win over my parents, and that Santa would grant me my wish.

That morning, I searched high and low, and then I saw it. I could not believe my eyes – it was a STUFFED DOG! There had to be some mistake. What planet was Santa living on? Hadn’t I made myself very clear? It was a real dog that I wanted. One that I could love, that would lick my face, jump into my lap, and follow me to school - not some dopey stuffed animal, which would sit impassively on my bed! My heart still aches at the memory.

My family did eventually get dogs. First came Silky, and then Max; but by then I was grown up and out of the house.

My puppy longing has never subsided. Over the years, with all my travels, it never seemed fair to take on the responsibility of owning a puppy. But, I have enjoyed the dogs of others - walking, petting, and baby-sitting them whenever given the chance. I have revelled in the many awards that my friend Kate’s Scotties have won. And, I have wept tears with my friends Linley, Cathy and Michelle as they lost their beloved pets. Only this past week, a new friend and blogger Kary lost her sweet Buddy.

But, I have a new dog in my life, my grand-pup Winnie. Isn’t she beautiful? We’ve yet to meet. But I love her already.

They call it Puppy Love,
Marjorie

Victorian Rambles in Search of Fossils

2010-03-01T11:13:00.001-08:00

The 19th century was the heyday for amateur and scientific exploration of the Natural World. Enthusiastic hunters and gatherers set out in search of new species and rare specimens of ferns, sea moss, feathers, birds’ eggs, and fossils.

Among these was the Victorian naturalist Mary Anning (1799-1847 or 1850) of Lyme Regis, in Dorset, England. You might not have heard of her. But this is not surprising, for even in her own time, Mary’s fossil discoveries were attributed to others. But, according to the Natural History Museum (UK), she was “the greatest fossil hunter ever known.” In fact, the Museum’s list of eminent Natural History biographies includes only two women, and Mary is one of them. On this list, she keeps company with the likes of Charles Darwin, Joseph Banks, Gilbert White, and Carl Linnaeus.

A life-long resident of Lyme Regis, Mary was the product of a working class home, and was introduced to fossilling by her father. This does not mean her life was without adventure. She survived being struck by lightening at age 15 months, and later in life, being buried in a landslide.

It was while exploring the Blue Lias geological cliff formations between Lyme and Charmouth, that she made her exciting finds - Ichthyosaurus, Pterodactylus, Plesiosaurus, as well as Ammonites (for which the area is known) and fossil fish.

At first, she set up a stall at the seafront, and sold her ‘curies’ (fossils) to tourists. Later, she opened a proper shop front, and also sold to wealthy collectors, scientific societies and museums. Many of the prominent scientists of the day visited her in Lyme Regis, including Henry De La Beche, William Buckland and the Rev. Conybeare.

This is the most famous portrait of Mary. She is holding a tool for digging, and her bag for collecting - on the ground at her feet is an ammonite fossil, and her little dog Tray, who accompanied her on excursions. (Alas, dear Tray died in a landslide. Mary died of breast cancer in 1847 or 1850.)

The story of Mary’s life, as well as that of her enduring friendship with another local resident and fellow fossil hunter, Miss Elizabeth Philpot, is recounted in Tracy Chevalier’s delightful new book “Remarkable Creatures”.

If you visit Lyme Regis, you will find reminders of both Mary Anning and Elizabeth Philpot everywhere: The Cob (the impressive sea wall at the town's harbor); The Three Cups Inn (Unfortunately now closed, but where we stayed many years ago); the beach and cliffs where you can even make a guided fossil expedition;

and The Philpot Museum. The interior of the Museum resembles a nautilus shell, and contains many mementos of Mary (including her digging tool), and numerous geological treasures.

You may also recognize Lyme Regis as a setting in Jane Austen’s “Persuasion”, and John Fowles’ “The French Lieutenant’s Woman”. In fact, novelist Fowles (1926-2005), a longtime resident, was at one time the curator of The Philpot Museum. After our visit to Lyme some years ago, I joined the Friends of the Museum, and each year received reports of the Museum’s activities, which included a Curator's report written by Fowles himself.

Lastly, it is interesting to note, that the tongue-twister “She sells seashells on the seashore” is said to have been inspired by the same Mary Anning.

Here in the California resort community of Carmel we have “Abalone Joe”. With his long white hair, bushy beard, and ruddy complexion, Joe can be found most weekends peddling his ocean souvenirs (single and nested Abalone shells of all sizes) to the tourists who promenade up and down swanky Ocean Avenue. ”Joe” acquires his shells from an abalone farm up North, then cleans and polishes them with mineral oil. According to local legend he travels up and down the Pacific Coast from Oregon to Southern California selling his wares. A modern-day Mary Anning; “He sells seashells by the seashore!”

"Per Ampliora Ad Altiora" (Through Breadth to Depth),
Marjorie

P.S. The bookplate at the beginning of this post belonged to Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. (1809-1894). He was a noted American physician, professor, author, poet and the father of Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr., a US Supreme Court Justice. His poem, "The Chambered Nautilus" and his bookplate reflect a deep interest in natural history.

The Birthday Party

2010-02-22T12:00:00.001-08:00

Now the supper is ready, the
tables are spread
With rich cakes, creams, and jellies,
and wines, white and red,
With ripe fruit and blanc-manges,
with custards and ice;
With sweetmeats and crackers,
and everything nice.
With happy smiles and bright glances
the guests gather round,
And fun, frolic, and mirth at each
table abound.
They drink health to Carrie and Julie;
next crackers they pull;
Plates very soon emptied were soon again full;
Strange mixtures were eaten, both
in earnest and fun;
Cracker mottoes amused them
when supper was done.

"Two Sweeties" with February Birthdays - Carrie (February 23rd), and Julie (February 27th) at the blog, Gilded Moons.

Happy Birthday,
Marjorie

Carnevale di Venezia

2010-02-16T13:53:00.000-08:00

Of all the places where Carnival
Was most facetious in the days of yore,
For dance, and song, and serenade, and ball,
And masque, and mime, and mystery, and more
Than I have time to tell now, or at all,
Venice the bell from every city bore,~
And at the moment when I fix my story,
That sea-born city was in all her glory.

(From "Beppo", by Lord Byron, 1818.)

With fiddling, feasting, dancing, drinking, masking,
And other things which may be had for asking. ("Beppo")

An antique calling card, on the verso of an early playing card

And gaiety on restless tiptoe hovers,
Giggling with all the gallants who beset her;
And there are songs and quavers, roaring, humming,
Guitars, and every other sort of strumming. ("Beppo")

The Carnival in Venice was a popular stop on the nineteenth century Grand Tour. Tourists and the crown heads of Europe alike, cavorted at parades, masque balls and street parties in Piazza San Marco, the Piazzetta, and in the courtyard of the Ducal Place.

Such events were perfect opportunities for the nobility to exchange and collect each other's cartes de visites. Here is a page from an early collector's album. (Click on image to enlarge)

Oh mirth and innocence!
Marjorie

P.S. The color headpiece at the top of this post showing Carnival revelers, is an antique print by Tolmer et cie, Paris. For three generations Maison Tolmer was known for their exquisite designs and printing for French couturiers and parfumeries.

Being George and Martha - President's Day 1909

2010-02-14T18:29:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday Mr President!

Today, February 15th, we're celebrating President's Day.

With Respect,
Marjorie

Valentines in the Classroom ~ February 1915

2010-02-08T09:09:00.000-08:00

It was February 1915, and all week long, the students at North Street School prepared for Valentine's Day. Little hands were kept busy cutting out hearts from red and pink construction paper. As they worked, their teacher, Miss McCherry, recited the following poem by Mary Catherine Parsons for inspiration:

Forget-me-nots are round the edge,
And tiny roses, too;
And such a lovely piece of lace-
The very palest blue.

And in the center there’s a heart,
As red as red can be!
And on it’s written all in gold,
“To You, with Love from Me.”

Then, when they were finished, like good little children everywhere, they put away the unused sheets of colored paper, pots of paste and scissors. It was time to rehearse their Valentine's Day play. The celebration is memorialized in the above photograph. The class poses, wearing hearts and holding American flags. A few tiny cupids with paper wings aim bows and arrows at heart-shaped targets. In the center, reigning over it all, are the youthful King and Queen of Hearts, in crepe paper crowns. The teacher stands proudly in the the center back row.

I too, have been busy. I've been digging through my collection of antique Valentines, and searching for a special one to send to you. As much as I am attracted to antique paper lace Valentines, I chose instead this sweet handmade card. It was lovingly crafted long ago, by some unknown child. I think it is perfect!

Wearing my heart on my sleeve,
Marjorie

P.S. You might be interested to know that most of the antique paper used in my blog postings comes from The Parrott Collection, my archive of antiquarian books, prints and ephemera.

Big Sur Style- The Magic of Nepenthe

2010-02-01T10:33:00.000-08:00

There is an air of mystery about ‘Nepenthe’, the Big Sur landmark and restaurant, which sits high on the cliffs above the Pacific Ocean.

Perhaps it is the spirit of Henry Miller, who in pre-Nepenthe days, lived in a cabin on the property. Or the ghosts of Orson Welles and his new bride Rita Hayworth, who were the next owners. They came upon the spot while driving down the coast, fell in love with it, and bought the cabin. (Although they never lived in it.) Or perhaps it is the enduring creative energy of the Fassett family, who for 60 years has owned and operated Nepenthe. It might even be the memory of the passionate love of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton who filmed scenes of their movie The Sandpiper on the restaurant’s terrace.

Certainly the bohemian kaleidoscope of visiting artists, cooks, writers, designers and just plain tourists has left its mark.

Whatever it is, ~ it is magic. There is something in the air. Sit at one of the outdoor benches on the terrace, looking out to the Big Sur coast, and you’ll be mesmerized.

Lost in the view, and sense of place; you will never want to leave.

For Bill and Lolly Fassett and their offspring, Nepenthe was home. It was also a place to celebrate their love of art, food and design. Some of the family are still involved in the day-to-day running of the restaurant and The Phoenix Gift Shop. Others live near-by, and some are further afield. But all carry a creative spark that was first ignited at Nepenthe.

One Nepenthe export is Kaffe Fassett, the internationally known textile designer. Though based in London, he travels the world for inspiration, and to give lectures and workshops. On a recent chilly evening, we joined 400 of his fans at the Pacific Grove elementary school, where we were dazzled by his illustrated talk on color and patterns.

The next generation includes, grand-daughter Romney Steele who is a chef, and writer. She has just penned a memoir titled “My Nepenthe". Her book sings with personal memories, and those of her family and friends. The pages are decorated with vintage black and white photographs from the restaurant's archives, and with color photographs by Sara Remington. All this is accompanied by eighty-five family recipes. Some of which, I had the pleasure to sample at her recent book signing at the Carmel Bay Company. (This is one of my favorite shops here in Carmel.)

Yet another member of this generation is the artist and writer, Erin Gafill. She tells her Nepenthe story in the book, "Drinking from a Cold Spring".

I have my own Nepenthe story. It all began with a scrap album that I found in an antique shop in Upstate New York. The album belonged to the wife of a American colonel in the US Army, who had been stationed in Paris in the 1940s. Pasted onto the pages were invitations to tea, engraved calling cards, and various other paper mementos. As I flipped through the album, I was intrigued by a vintage Christmas card with a striking black and white photograph, showing a distant view of a building overlooking the ocean. (See image at the beginning of this post.) Printed below the image was the word “Nepenthe”. Inside the card was the following poem:

The sea lions are our neighbors,
The Pacific at our door;
Ships tell us of their travels
And ebbing tides of ocean lore;
Here you are always welcome,
Won’t you tap upon our door?

I wondered, could this be the Nepenthe?

Big Sur Dreaming,
Marjorie

In the Wax Museum

2010-01-22T09:25:00.000-08:00

When I was a little girl, no trip to the Agricultural Experiment Station in Geneva, New York would be complete without a walk-by of the portrait of my grandfather hanging with other past directors of the Station, and a visit to the wax model collection. I remember climbing the big stairs to the 2nd floor of Jordan Hall, and getting up on tippy-toes to peer at the life-like fruits and vegetables in the high wood and glass display cases.

Inside was a veritable museum in wax: apples, pears, grapes, peas, beans, and more.

Most looked good enough to eat, except for some strangely deformed specimens. (I would later learn that these represented plants in various stages of insect infestation and fungal disease).

Over the years the stairs got easier to climb, and I made fewer visits. When I did, the collection was beginning to look a little tired. And then it was gone! Deemed old-fashioned, and the space needed for other purposes, the pieces were packed away.

So, two summers ago, when I was asked by the Station Librarian if I wanted to work with the collection, it was like meeting an old friend. And this is how some would say I spent my summer vacation!

In the days before photography, and particularly color photography, wax models were an important teaching tool. They were employed in horticulture and botany classes, and often displayed in libraries, museums and research institutions. These models provided the students of the day with realistic facsimiles of plants, which might be rare, not available locally, or out of season.

James S. Lawson was the chief Preparator of the Geneva Collection. Lawson was born in Ontario, Canada in 1890. As a young man, he had the opportunity to meet, and later work with Mrs. Stanley Potter (Sarah), the resident wax artist at the Ontario Agricultural College. He worked at the Station in Geneva during summers, from 1920 to 1935. Another artist, Clara Barnes, carried on the wax model work at the Station from 1936 to 1942, also on a part time basis. Together these artists created close to 500 wax models of fruit, vegetables and fungi.

The fascinating thing about these wax models is their realism, particularly in color and texture. You might even be tempted to take a bite.

It is reported that Lawson would go to great lengths to achieve this realism. He actually cut pieces of hair from his arms to create fine bristles on raspberry models,

Little is known about how the Geneva specimens were made; but there is documentation on how Sarah Potter worked. And, if indeed Lawson was her student, it would follow that he would employ similar methods. Two representative examples of each fruit or vegetable would be chosen. One would be used to make a plaster mold. The second example was used for coloring guidance. The finished pieces in the Geneva Collection are for the most part mounted with wire on heavy cardstock mounts. The variety, and sometimes further notes, are given in a legend beneath the specimen in letterpress or a stamped format. We know that Lawson learned other skills such as soldering, tin-smithing and printing in order to further enhance his works.

During my time working with the Collection, I kept busy preparing an inventory, organizing storage, conducting some minor conservation, and compiling various finding aids.

Piecing together the story of the Station’s Collection, as well as defining its place in the history of wax model-making, has been fascinating; and is an ongoing project. Wax has been used by artists as a medium for botanical modeling as far back as 15th century Europe. The 19th century found the art of wax modeling introduced as a home recreation for ladies. This was also the time of famous modelers such as the Mintorn Family of England, who fashioned a large scale wax model of the 'Victoria Regia' for Kew Gardens. Even at the World’s Fairs and international agricultural exhibitions it was a common practice to include wax fruit specimens as part of the displays.

What began as a “Tale Of Two Collections” (Geneva and Ontario) is today so much more! My research has uncovered other like collections worldwide: in Buffalo, in Chicago, in Florence and in Sydney, to name just a few. Ironically for me, one of the largest collections is at Museum Victoria in Melbourne, Australia where I resided for 6 years.

These Collections are treasures. They are important not only for their uniqueness and artistic merit, but for their relevance to the current interest in heritage plants, biodiversity, climate change and food security. One can only imagine what other wonderful undiscovered collections are packed away in the museums of the world.

Waxing Poetic,
Marjorie

(Photos courtesy of the New York State Agricultural Experiment Station)

Captain January and the Keepers of the Light

2010-01-14T09:28:00.000-08:00

Have you ever read "The Wreck of the Hesperus" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow?

It begins:

It was the schooner Hesperus,
That sailed the wintry sea:
And the skipper had taken his little daughter,
To bear him company.

Everytime my father would recite this poem to me, I would get the chills. Because I knew that in the end, the child and her father would perish in a shipwreck. Later in the poem, when the little girl said to her father:

”O father! I see a gleaming light, and
Oh say, what may it be?”

I always hoped it was a lighthouse, and that for once, all would be saved. But each time, the unfortunate child, her father and the ship would end up lost on the dreaded reef of Norman’s Woe.

Star Bright, the young heroine of Laura Richards’ book, "Captain January" (1890), met a happier fate. She was rescued from a shipwreck, (that claimed both her parents), by a kindly and crusty lighthouse keeper, named Captain January. Shirley Temple, America’s Sweetheart, sang and danced her way through the film adaptation of "Captain January (1936). Who could forget her rendition of the "Codfish Ball" (click here), one of several musical numbers from the movie!

Summer holidays would find our family happily ensconced by the sea in the Garden Cottage, at Rockport, Massachusetts. Nearby was Loblolly Cove, where the majestic twin lighthouses of Thacher’s Island (built 1861), provided us with a constant sound and light show. Some years later, I happened upon a tiny sketchbook with pencil drawings of the area, including one of the lighthouses, done in 1880.

Driving South from Carmel on California's Coastal Highway 1, you will see in the distance an outcropping jutting into the sea. You could be forgiven for thinking you have been magically transported to Mont St. Michel in France, or Michael’s Mount in Britain. Atop this promontory is a lighthouse known as "Point Sur Lightstation".

An intrepid group of volunteers have undertaken the preservation of the rock, the light and its historic buildings. One recent windy day, we made our way up the the hill on a three-hour guided tour of the old lightstation.

Along the way there are some incredible vistas of the Big Sur Coast, with its rugged rocks and crashing waves. You can see why this coastline has been the location of numerous shipwrecks. From January through May, you might even spy migrating whales.

"Point Sur Lightstation" has been a beacon of hope, and a landmark to mariners for 115 years.

The winding staircase within the tower, resembles the shape of a nautilus shell, and leads upward .

The light, which continues to guide sailors, is now automated.

Preservation of the site continues. A list of local benefactors, includes at least one famous name!

We carefully made a tour around the catwalk

The skeleton of a whale's jaw bone brought up from the beach below.

Families lived here from 1889-1974. Little children, like Star Bright, must have frolicked on the sea beach, climbed the volcanic rocks, and played in the tidal-pools.

Thus ends our visit to the only complete Turn-of-the-Century Lightstation open to the public in California.

God bless all the keepers of the light, ships at sea, and those in peril,
Marjorie

A Dream of a Ming Dynasty Beach House

2010-01-06T13:50:00.000-08:00

Last night I dreamed I was walking down the gum tree lane that leads to our Ming Dynasty Beach House in Flinders, Australia.

The two Chinese carved doors still stood sentinel at the entrance, and I was greeted by the sound of temple bells, and the rustling of the young bamboo trees we had just planted.

Inside the door, on an altar table, I found a small wooden shrine with a smiling Buddha, surrounded by green glazed ginger jars.

On the kitchen counter, a ferocious Chinese ceramic dragon, which once decorated a Peking roof, stood guard over our home.

"Shanghai Lil", our vintage VJ sailboat, was safe in its berth high above the lounge room.

Souvenirs of beach-combing, op-shopping and flea-market forays filled the shelves of the antique French curio cabinet.

High above the master bed, a simple bamboo screen floated Zen-like.

A bedside tableau just as I had left it, with a vintage magnolia print, and a red lacquer box.

On the wall in the guest bath, a shell-encrusted mirror by artist, William Walker.

A robe, once worn by a pilgrim in one of the far-flung reaches of China, (only to be bought by another pilgrim (me) at Beijing’s dirt market), adorned the dining room wall.

Light filtered through the shades, and it felt like walking in a bamboo forest.

There, in my office space, was my inspiration board still covered with visual reminders of my many unfinished projects and ideas.

Vintage Chinese tea tins were stacked on top of the Chinoiserie chest in my office.

I traced the names and autographs that our guests had left on the blackboard door of the secret wine cellar. Inside, I found the racks stocked with every fine wine we had ever sampled.

When I awoke, it was a year later, and a world away.

It was a "Dream House". Good fortune smiled on us everyday of the six years that we lived there.

Lucky indeed!
Marjorie

A Child's New Year's Eve in Upstate New York

2009-12-30T10:35:00.000-08:00

New Year’s Eve in our family meant just one thing – the Annual Costume Party. For it was then, that my parents and their fun-loving friends would play dress-up for one night.

Sometime around Christmas the invitation to the annual party would arrive in the mail. “Please join us for a Cruise to the Caribbean”, or for a "Hawaiian Luau”, or “Come dressed as a Beatnik” it would read. Thus, added to the flurry of the holiday activities, would be the pressure of what my parents would wear on the evening of December 31st.

Each couple was on their own when it came to ideas for costume attire. Since I was the artsy member of the family, I was tapped to be our in-house stylist. I remember well the year when the invitees were asked to come as a designated famous person. My father was to be Picasso; my mother Joan of Arc. Now Dad, who was completely bald, had the Picasso look down pat. All he really needed to complete his look was a beret (brought back from our family tour of Europe), a torn white tee shirt, khakis and sneakers. Taking a red magic marker in hand, I adorned his tee-shirt with my variation on one of the artist's “Demoiselles d’Avignon”. My poor mother’s costume was less inspired. I only recall that part of her costume was a lamb’s wool hat, which doubled as Joan’s helmet.

The merrymakers would gather in the basement “rec” room of the Glass family on White Springs Road. Their son Teddy was a talented artist, and the genius behind the annual invitations, decorations, and party favors. (He would later become a Hollywood set designer; so in a sense his first gig was at those costume parties).

Sometimes, the party would take place at our house on Washington Street. On the evening, I would perch at the top of the front hall stairs, and try to identify the disguised arrivals by the scent of their perfume or men’s cologne.

Later, laying on the floor of my bedroom, I would listen to the sounds of the adults having fun as they danced and played various party games. Games included the ever popular “Walk the Plank”; "Fashion Designer" (where patterns for clothing were cut from newspapers and pinned on a live model); and the crowd pleaser “Who’s Legs and Feet are these?” (A bed sheet would be tacked across a doorframe two feet up from the floor. One team of guests would take turns standing behind the barrier, and showing a little bit of leg. Then the team out front had to guess who belonged to which legs).

The morning after, I would eagerly rush downstairs. Then I would raid the refrigerator for exotic left-overs, and stale bottles of ginger ale; while awaiting my parents’ review of the festivities.

How wonderful and innocent it was for these hard-working adults to have this once-a-year night to laugh and play like children!

I toast them, (almost all now gone to the big party in the sky); and I toast all of you: “May your hearts be filled with the joy, wonder and laughter of children this coming year!”

Cheers,
Marjorie

What's On The Menu This Christmas?

2009-12-20T16:29:00.000-08:00

Here is a special Christmas menu. Each course comes with a wish from me to you.

Last year I was living in Flinders, Australia. However, this year I couldn't attend the Girls' Annual Christmas Lunch. My good mate Sue sent me some happy snaps from the party. I thought you might enjoy seeing what a jolly group they are.

The festivities were held out-of-outdoors on Linley's deck overlooking Westernport Bay. Note the beautiful arrangement of blue Agapanthus, which grow wild on the Mornington Peninsula.

The table-setting was graced with all of Linley's special touches.

Here are "Les Girls".

They sent me a message.

I was there in spirit!

Robert Louis Stevenson once said:

The best that we find in our travels is an honest friend
He is a fortunate voyager who finds many.

Happy Holidays to dear family and friends, far and near.
Marjorie

Winter Season ~ Paris 1939/Carmel 2009

2009-12-11T09:03:00.000-08:00

Now, that the entire US seems headed for a coat-ing of snow, I figured it was time to take cover. I come from the land down under. During my six years in Australia, (also known to some as the homeland of Ugg boots), I hardly wore a jacket, much less a coat. I love vintage couture, and while dreaming of a White Christmas, I found these winter coats gracing the pages of a Parisian fashion magazine from 1939.

How perfectly they illustrate the adage that “everything old is new again”. Wrapped up in one of these, I would be quite comfortable promenading the boulevards of Paris, the streets of San Francisco, or even Carmel.

The jury, however, is still out on the turban and the cone hats.

But I do like the fur touches. They remind me of Willow’s famous fur hat.

I still have fond memories of a rock-star of a Canadian sheepskin coat, that I once owned. It cost the earth, but wearing it, I made quite a statement, and it was so warm to boot. Once, when we lived in Europe, an overzealous salesperson talked me into buying a lined Burberry coat, in a size too small for me. I never felt comfortable wearing it, feeling more a Viennese sausage, than a Sloane Ranger.

Living in Beijing, I became a devotee of China prêt-à-porter. I went all out for jackets with mandarin collars and knotted buttons.

During the day, my uniform was a simple Red Army green cotton jacket (from the touristy Silk Market),

or a Shanghai Tang green wool felt jacket.

Evenings, I went dramatic, with a glamorous black silk padded jacket in the Ming-style. I remember the pride I felt as I walked around the Chinese capitol city, as locals would give me a thumbs up of costume approval.

Many of the above garments returned with me. There have, however, been a few recent additions, such as a $25. Ralph Lauren trench coat (from a Carmel re-sale shop), and a classic Pendleton green wool tweed coat, with a B. Forman label (from my mother’s closet). I guess you know by now I am partial to the color green!

These chilly Carmel morns, I slip into my old friend, the black padded Chinese jacket, and walk to town. Just the other day, I got a fashion thumbs up from the owner of an Ocean Avenue boutique.

Now that’s a wrap,
Marjorie

Next Stop ~ The Ferry Building, San Francisco

2009-12-05T16:29:00.000-08:00

They say that "if you go to San Franciso, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair". I say, "be sure to stop at the Ferry Building Marketplace". Not only is it a busy ferry terminal, but it houses an amazing array of specialty shops and restaurants.

Just one of the many whimsical mosaics decorating the Terminal walls.

One of Alice Waters' favorite shops is there.

You can find one-of-a-kind food and wine antiques at Culinaire.

Elsewhere you can find a shop specializing in mushrooms ...

or tea...

or cheese...

or caviar...

or, if you're in the mood for oysters ...

Grab a stool at Hog Island Oysters, and watch the theater of the chef chucking fresh oysters.

Try Boulettes Larder for breakfast.

This is the famous "Boulette", the Chef's Hungarian Puli dog - is he coming or going?

A view of the action in the kitchen...

from the Chef's table.

Sit outside the restaurant and take in a view of the Bay Bridge. Watch the ships coming and going, and the fog rolling in.

You will leave the San Francisco Ferry Terminal with many tasty treats for your Chrismas hamper.

A Merry Ferry Christmas to all!
Marjorie

Are you going to the Christmas Tea Party?

2009-12-01T08:15:00.000-08:00

“Yippee!” We all shouted.
“Today we’re going to Mr. Toast’s in Aspen for tea.”
“I’ve never been to Aspen before,” I said.
“I have never been on skis before,” said Lulu-belle.
“I’m not afraid.” said Teddy. “Let’s go!”

This being our first real, grown-up, blog tea party, so we are very excited and very nervous. What is the proper tea party etiquette and attire? Can we find our way there?

Teddy is being very generous. He is insisting on bringing the strawberry rose-petal jam that he had been saving for his long winter nap.

Lulu-belle and I have been busy all week making holiday cookies from a secret family recipe (which, because we are sharing it with you, is no longer a secret.)

I’ll be wearing my mittens, which were made by our friend Audrey. They are copied after a pair that kept the hands of Norway’s King Haakon VII, warm during WWII, while he was in exile in Britain.

Lulubelle’s Christmas mittens were hand-knit in Estonia.
Teddy, of course, is going bare-pawed.

So we’re off then. Fingers and paws crossed we make it. No worries mate - it’s all downhill from here.

See you at the bottom. CLICK HERE TO ATTEND THE TEA PARTY

Marjorie, Lulu-belle and Teddy

♥ P.S. Love and bear hugs this birthday to E.G.T., the real doll in the family.

Giving Thanks

2009-11-22T12:22:00.000-08:00

Little Pilgrims ~ Elizabeth Grace, Carrie and John Mark

Giving Thanks

by Mattie M. Renwick

For flowers so beautiful and sweet,
For friends and clothes and food to eat,
For precious hours, for work and play,
We thank Thee this Thanksgiving Day.

For father’s care and mother’s love,
For the blue sky and clouds above,
For springtime and autumn gay,
We thank Thee this Thanksgiving Day!

For all Thy gifts so good and fair,
Bestowed so freely everywhere,
Give us grateful hearts we pray,
To thank Thee this Thanksgiving Day.

Happy Holiday and thank you for your friendship!
Marjorie

Patina

2009-11-18T13:43:00.000-08:00

Whether in the world of museums, antiques or rare books, patina is a word often used to describe an artefact or object. It can mean fading, darkening or other signs of age, which are natural and/or unavoidable, and often enhances the value and appearance of the item. With the arrival of yet another birthday, I feel patina could describe me as well!

So when I wandered into a shop in La Selva Beach, CA, near Santa Cruz, called PATINE, I knew it was my kind of place.

The shop is filled with imaginative displays, and objects of charm, with just the right amount of wear around the edges.

We met Lauren, a very elegant woman who watches the shop on weekends, so the owners can go off to work various markets and shows.

Pillows and Bolsters in French ticking and linen

Vintage and Antique Nightwear from the 1800s in cotton, linen and hemp. See how lovely Lauren looks in hers.

Antique French children’s cloth "rag books"

Cushions made from some of these cloth book covers

Looking like two Parisian rag-pickers, we had a ball rummaging through an industrial-size laundry bin full of vintage designer scarves priced at $5-each. We discovered and liberated several brightly colored and patterned vintage treasures from YSL, Vera and Schiaparelli.

A rustic, French produce sack made of hemp, with great lettering and a red star, was hanging on the wall behind the counter! I fell in love with its patina, particularly the primitive repair stitching.

Here it is, proudly hanging over our red Chinese settee.

Patinated and proud,
Marjorie