Monthly Archives: September 2010

Martha Moved On

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Did anyone else notice when Martha Stewart moved from Lowes to Home Depot? Probably right around the time we won our Lowe’s gift card and I had money to spend on her. Such is life.

I haven’t really had a chance to examine her Home Depot products yet, but when Deliciously Determined offered an examination of faux bois, I clicked over to see the paintable faux bois wallpaper. I’m not crazy about the textural quality of the paper, but upon further investigation, I found something I do like:

For an 8 x 10 rug, $317 sounds pretty reasonable. At least that’s what my dining room keeps saying.

Home Depot is also offering Martha’s Decorative Painting Tool Kit, which includes the faux bois rocker tool.

I’m not a huge fan of faux finishes — I can’t forget those horrible infomercials from ten years ago — but when handled with suitable restraint, faux bois can be breathtaking.

And I mean that in the complimentary, non-Seinfeld kind of way.

No Comment

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With virtually no information to go on and no idea what I’m doing, I am, nevertheless, wading in to try and solve the comment mystery.

As such, parts of the blog may come and go, for which I apologize in advance. ‘Tis but, I hope, a temporary pain.

If I’m lucky, I may be able to get comments functioning properly again. In the meantime, please send me an email if you encounter an error while trying to make a comment.

Wish me luck!

Separated at Birth

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I’m good at bargain hunting when I go to thrift stores. Unfortunately, I have one major chink in my I-refuse-to-overpay-for-anything armor.

I have a thing for twins.

If I see something identical to a previously-purchased treasure, I have to buy it. Even if it’s overpriced. Even though I already have one. I’m constitutionally unable to face the possibility I’ll think of a brilliantly symmetrical way to use the twin of my previous find — but only after it’s too late to buy the counterpart.

So I fold. I pass over my money — too much money — and scurry home with a ridiculous sense of satisfaction mingled with regret. Like last week.

You may remember me finding, among other things, this loverly vanity seat a few months ago:

I found her twin last week.

Vanity Seat - blond

She was a little hard to recognize under her disguise. (I admit, the fabric is kind of cute.)

But I did a little excavating.

(Two nautically-themed fabrics? Wasn’t the first seaworthy?)

And then unearthed her at last.

They’re fraternal twins. One blond, one brunette.

Safe under one roof once again.

UPDATE: I’m having some comment posting issues with the blog lately. Unfortunately, I cannot get the error to reproduce so I’m unable to get help for the problem. If you attempt to leave a comment and the system won’t allow it, pretty-pretty-please send me an email giving some detail on what kind of error (blank page, 405 error, etc.) and what browser you’re using. If you are so inclined to send me a “print screen” image of the error page, I will weep tears of joy and name a star after you. I hate that people are trying to leave comments and can’t, so I desperately want to get this fixed soon. Your help is my lifeline. Thanks!

Linking up to:

southern hospitality

The Bama Dilemma

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The plot thickens.

Last week, I pledged my collegiate football loyalties to the Crimson Tide of the University of Alabama, with the sure and certain belief that their season would implode with the magnitude of a supernova.

Okay, so there was a little snag.

In my defense, last Saturday’s Alabama vs. Duke was only televised on pay-per-view. Not feeling equal to explaining to my husband:

  1. Why I (of all people) was paying to watch a college football on TV, and
  2. Why said college football team happened to be ALABAMA

I thought it best to just postpone my loyalties, insofar as watching was concerned, for another week. Maybe I couldn’t watch the game, but I would still be routing for the Tide in my heart. What difference could it make, really?

Yeah, well, we all know how that turned out. Sorry, Duke. That 62-13 really smarts.

So here we are again. Game Day. Ready to start over. Except that today’s match-up is…damn.

Alabama at Arkansas.

Number 1 vs. Number 10. Tide vs. Hogs. Goliath vs. David.

What shall I do? Oh, what shall I do?

As evidenced by fifteen years of Arkansas loyalty, my team of choice always loses if I watch (or listen to) the game. As further evidenced by Alabama’s cruel and unusual crushing of Duke last week, if I don’t watch the game, my team of choice goes on to a landmark victory. So do I watch? Or no?

The fate of the universe rest on this one decision.

Okay, maybe not. It just feels like it.

I would love to watch this game. Almost as much as I would love to be at this game. Walking down the hill from a tailgate, following the surging crowds down Stadium Drive, climbing into the stands to be enveloped in a sea of red-and-white-clad fans.

But I think I’d better not watch.

I don’t want to be haunted by visions of that sea of red-and-white turning on me like a lynch mob because I was solely responsible for a humiliating defeat on our home field when I could, instead, have handed them a decisive victory over the Number 1 team in the country. At least if I don’t watch, it’s harder to hold me accountable.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

Oh, except: ROLL TIDE ROLL. And I mean that. With every fiber of my being.

Comments Solicited

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I got an email from a very kind visitor to the blog who let me know she was having trouble commenting on a recent post.

I’ve gone over everything I know to do on WordPress — which would fill a thimble (with room for a shot of tequila) — and haven’t identified anything that looks fishy. Equally strange, although I haven’t been getting many comments lately, I had no trouble leaving my own random “testing” comments.

So, if you are of a helpful frame of mind and can spare the time, please leave a comment or two on this post or any other. (If you don’t have a comment on anything in particular, feel free to use “testing,” or something equally droll.) If, for whatever reason, the system doesn’t allow you to leave a comment, click here to shoot me an email.

Thank you, your help is greatly appreciated!

Anthropologie Cometh

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My dear town of Tulsa has seen its share of historic events: the Oil Boom, the 1921 Race Riot, the birth of Route 66, the filming of The Outsiders, among others. I’m not entirely sure Friday, September 24, 2010, will be deemed worthy of a place in the history books — but I’m sure excited about it.

I’d never heard of Anthropologie until my sister-in-law brought it up. And until I started reading design blogs with regularity, I certainly didn’t share in the general enthusiasm. Thank you, blog heroines for saving me from my ignorance.

And in the nick of time, too. Friday is just 300,000 seconds away.

Granted, a lot of Anthro’s merchandise is decidedly bohemian — in other words, totally not me — but their simplest items are right up my alley. I’ve been drinking in the home section of their website in preparation for my first pilgrimage. I have no idea what they’ll stock — or what they have in stock by the time I make it in — but I’m finding plenty of eye candy in the meantime.

Farmer's Egg Crate

I want one. I don’t need one. I want one.

Cirrus Bedding

Is it ruching? Shirring? No. It’s love.

Italian Campaign Canopy Bed

This bed calls my name. In Italian.

Mirrored Dresser

I live in a world where $1,300 for a dresser is an unconscionable extravagance. Damn it.

Illusorio Cabinet

Love that reclaimed pine. Just “pining” away.

Deep Sea Curtain

I wasn’t a big fan of cephalopods. Until now.

Simplicity Lamp

This lamp has such elegance. Gorgeous.

Fluted Pendant Lamp

Did I mention my clinical obsession for industrial-inspired lighting?

Mechanic's Beacon Light

Did I mention my clinical obsession for industrial-inspired lighting?

I did? Oh.

Anthro also has some beautiful wallpapers. Tons of them. But my favorite has to be this one:

Grand Game Wallpaper

Kitschy fun. I’m not sure why I like it, but I do.

I also like mirrors with a sense of humor. Like this one:

Reassembled Mirror

It would certainly compliment my houseful of existing broken stuff.

Zinc Letters

Zinc letters? Yes, please.

Lotus Dinnerware

The color of the Lotus Dinnerware is stunning.

Latte Bowls

I’ve always wanted a set of Latte Bowls. (And a barista to go with them, but I’m flexible.)

And then, if there were no mortgage, no utilities, and no need to eat ever again, I would just buy hardware. But I can’t post pictures. I don’t have the bandwidth.

Are you an Anthropologie junky? What are your faves?

Tulsa, let the countdown begin.

Pillow Trim from Upholstery Webbing

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Cowboy Pillows

Around March or February of this year, I happened to be on hand as Joann was clearing out a ton of special order fabric samples: 18″ squares of decor fabric, most costing upwards of $30.00 per yard — and some much more.

The remnants were only $2.00 apiece, so I bought a few with no real intentions. A few days later, they marked the remnants down to $1.00 each. In a singularly unfortunate alignment of circumstance, this markdown coincided with a temporary lapse of sanity on my part. Unfortunate because I bought two dozen or so samples, scouring both Joann locations in my fair city to make sure I got every last one worth buying.

And then my sanity returned because I haven’t touched them since.

However, with Holiday Market on the horizon, it’s high time I got a’sewin’. And what better way to kick off this sew-a-thon than a pair of charming cowboy pillows?

Waverly Wild West

I love this fabric (Waverly Wild West in Red, if you’re wondering) but thought it needed some trim, preferably something rugged to compliment its cowboyishness. Nothing in the trim section at Hobby Lobby leaped out at me, but a lucky turn down the upholstery aisle pointed me to the very thing.

Upholstery Webbing

Happiness is great trim that costs less than $1.00 a yard.

Continue reading →

Cardinal to Crimson, or My New Team

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Just in time for today’s Game Day festivities, I’ve selected the unlucky recipient of my new college football allegiance.

It’s taken some very deliberate consideration and the swallowing of certain deep-seated prejudices, no doubt, but the determination to spur on my Razorbacks to a long-awaited championship title is worth no end of personal mortification.

On that note, the runner-up.

The obvious choice seemed to be the University of Oklahoma. Their status as a football powerhouse aside, motivation to target the Sooners with my unfortunate loyalties was amplified by the draw of camaraderie with their massive fan machine. Many of my friends are rabid OU fans, presenting a vista of watch parties and maybe even an actual game. Can you imagine sitting in the company of 82,000 Sooner fans, sabotaging the game from within their midst just by sitting in the stands?

But I could never get away with it.

Even if my friends conveniently forgot where I went to school, I’ve already exposed my true motives. And I don’t have money to replace slashed tires, repair broken windows or dispose of dead animals nailed to my front door.

No, no. OU is safe from me. (Unless of course they face off with Arkansas, in which case I’ll be hanging from the rafters, singing “Boomer Sooner” at the top of my lungs.)

I’d rather turn my attention to the main obstacle to Arkansas’s championship prospects — and my new college football allegiance —The University of Alabama Crimson Tide. (Sorry, Katherine.)

Odds makers are favoring the Crimson Tide to go all the way. But the first hurdle to clear is the conference title: in Alabama’s case, the SEC.

To which conference does Arkansas belong? The SEC, you say? Hmmmm. My motives suddenly become clear.

Having taken a crash course in Alabama fandom, I’m waiting only for today’s game to put my theory to the test. If I’m right, there’s no telling to what depths the Crimson Tide may sink this year.

To which I can only say: “Roll, Tide, Roll.”

Honey or Vinegar

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You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Or so the saying goes.

I played eyewitness to someone else’s “vinegar moment” today. And the response of the flies.

After naptime this afternoon, I piled the boys in the car for a quick run to a local specialty retailer (which shall remain nameless) to stock up on a few supplies.

It was after 4 PM — that magic hour between school dismissal and the end of the workday when everyone else is trying to cram in their last-minute errands, too— so I was braced for delay. Patience is not one of my core competencies, but after all, life is waiting and I’m learning acceptance is key.

Plus, my five-year-old is going through a very “anti-wait” phase, so I’m trying to set a good example by not being in such an all-fired rush all the time.

As expected, the checkout lines were long. (At least my mental preparation wasn’t for naught.) But apparently, not everyone was prepared.

To be fair, I don’t know how long the woman in front of me had been standing in line. Nor do I know what was the source of the delay. But whatever the time lapse, it was evidently far too long. I was busy enough trying to distract the boys from the candy rack our place in line had unluckily designated us to stand beside that I didn’t really tune into her increasing complaints, but I was vaguely aware that her companion or the poor person who called her on her cell phone were getting an earful.

After a few minutes, a CSM (Customer Service Manager) passed by, giving the woman in front me an opportunity to express her displeasure and “encourage” the CSM to ring her up on another register. No dice. The crabby customer’s turn at the checkout eventually came, whereupon the cashier gave her some policy excuse, explaining why the CSM couldn’t open another register — which didn’t seem to deflate her outrage one whit. The woman paid and left in a huff.

I don’t think she was more than two inches out the door when the CSM asked me if I was ready to check out and guided me over to a newly-opened register. It was as if the employees were waiting for Miss Crabby Pants to leave before making sure every other customer was checked out as quickly as possible.

I thought it was pretty funny until I started wondering if I’ve ever been such a raging lunatic that a Customer Service Manager will go out of their way to offer less service. Hmmmm. I’m not one for such moments in public — I save all my vinegar for those I love the most! — but I feel myself becoming more inclined as I get older.

Anyway, it was a good reminder of the value of a “sweet temper.”

I know I could certainly use a little honey in my crabby old soul.

Happy weekend,

Ten Can Taco Soup

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Ten Can Taco SoupIn order for me to be considered a “foodie,” the world would probably have to experience some kind of major food-oriented cataclysm. Maybe something on par with that stupid Stallone film in which Taco Bell is the only restaurant to “survive the franchise wars.” Whatever that means.

Anyway, until gastronomic ecstasy descends to a cuisine with “gordita” in the name, I’m perfectly comfortable with being myself in the kitchen.

This recipe is very much “me.” For one, it’s probably one of the rare recipes I would feel comfortable actually taking credit for, because it’s the result of 100% improvisation and not a riff on someone else’s version. (I’m not saying no one on earth has ever created Taco Soup before, but any similarities between actual recipes, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.) Secondly, it’s extremely easy to make, the main technical prerequisite being the ability to turn your can opener — which has “me” written all over it.

It’s also a very forgiving recipe — which is where our similarities end. Ah well. You can’t have everything.

I wish I could say I have nice, step-by-step photos to share, but that would be a lie. I’m not Pioneer Woman and also I’m a lousy photographer and also I’m lazy and also this recipe is so stinkin’ easy that people who need a photo tutorial to make it probably shouldn’t be using knives or major appliances unsupervised anyway. So if you can’t figure it out, just leave a comment. Or email me. I’ll coach you through the hard parts.


Ten Can Taco Soup

1.25 lbs. Ground Turkey
1 small Yellow Onion, diced
1 envelope Ranch Dressing Mix
1 envelope Taco Seasoning
1 can Rotel Tomatoes & Green Chilies
3 cans Stewed Tomatoes with Green Pepper & Onion
2 cans White Hominy, drained
2 cans Ranch Beans
1 can Dark Red Kidney Beans
1 can Black Beans, drained 1

In a Dutch oven, brown the ground turkey over medium heat. Add diced onion while the turkey is still slightly pink and toss until the turkey is no longer pink. Drain off the excess fat. Sprinkle the ranch dressing mix over the turkey/onion mixture and toss over low heat to coat. Repeat with the taco seasoning. Stir in all ten cans of remaining goodness and cover. Simmer for 20 minutes 2 or so, stirring occasionally. Sprinkle with a little sharp cheddar and serve with whatever side makes your leg tingle: tortilla chips, saltines, corn chips, or (my personal favorite) cornbread. Makes about 12 servings.

By the way, this soup freezes beautifully. Just seal the cooled soup in a ziploc bag and toss in the freezer. Though I would recommend not tossing it onto a wire shelf within your freezer or you may find the task of defrosting a bit more entertaining. Just a suggestion.

  1. If you’re uber-observant, you probably noticed the taco soup in the above photo does not contain black beans. My hubby has an “issue” with black beans. I like black beans — especially since they make the soup extra pretty — but I love my husband. I had to choose between the two and there’s no crying about it now.
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  2. This is just a suggestion. The soup is already fully cooked, so if you’re in a rush and don’t have time for a full 20 minute simmer, serve away. But I think the simmering helps. ↩
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