Notes From the Architect

In this time of generic, electronic messages, it is rare to receive a card that has been chosen just for you and rarer still to find a hand-written note inside...

Finding a little smudged, nibbled corner...a message added by the architect's bunnies...fills my heart with pure happiness.

Note: The other day,  I found this note from last year tucked away in a book.  The young architect, Justice Pang, who had worked on the design of the both the guest house and The Bunny Bungalow's remodel, had sent us a note to let us know that he had completed his internship.  He also wanted us to know that he had enjoyed working on our project with Rogers+Labarthe Architects.  When both John Rogers and Suzanne Labarthe came to meet with us the fist time, Tall Husband and I fell in love with them; then when they told us about Justice's house bunnies, we knew that they were the architects for The Bunny Bungalow job.  Thanks to all of you for the home of our dreams!

Boo Wednesday

Have a Howling Halloween!

Autumn Comes to a Texas Garden

Texas is known for its pecans.  However, Tall husband and I have always had to buy our pecans from the supermarket, thanks to those cute, but thieving squirrels.

This year things are different around the Bunny Bungalow...Scooter and Skipper love chasing squirrels.  So, we have enough pecans to share with neighbors and still have some for munching and baking pecan pies. This morning we sat in the garden, cracking and eating pecans.  The boys taught themselves to pop open the nuts and eat only the meat but they prefer to bring pecans to us, demanding that we open them with the nutcracker.

Got to run now, Scooter just threw a pecan at me and barked.

When do the Flamingos Arrive?

Chatterblocks from Garnet Hill

Do you sneak around and order whimsical and interesting stuff from the Internet?  I have to confess...I do.  For some reason, being furtive adds to the thrill of the hunt.  Tall Husband never knows what he'll find when he walks through the back door.  Last week there were the realistic, large black ravens that would make Edgar Allen Poe proud, but frightened the hell out of the dogs.   This week it's the Chatterblocks, with which I spelled out, "Don't ask." (And can spell out endless phrases and greetings.)

Tall Husband upon seeing the blocks: "Why can't I ask?"

Me: "You just did."

Tall Husband:  "When do the flamingos arrive?"

That last question is one that Tall Husband asks often and it requires some explaining:

Years ago a friend vacationed in China then arrived back home, where upon she immediately began to act strange and order weird stuff.  The last straw for the family was the day a dozen live, messy flamingos arrived at the same time the twenty palm trees were being unloaded on their front lawn.  They wrestled Mom's credit cards from her and got her to a specialist who successfully treated her for an exotic cerebral infection.

So, when will the flamingos be here?...the dogs want to know!

Childhood Lessons

 

 

 

Like so many others in this world, I did not have a childhood that one would wish for.  But there were wonderful, caring people along the way who pitched in to fill the holes left by the uncaring or thoughtless.  One of those good souls was the principal at the school where I attended fourth grade.

Somehow that year, I found myself living with my father, his young wife and their two small children.  When I went home for lunch there was none and my stepmother was not glad to see another mouth at the table.  My solution was to pretend that I was leaving school for lunch, then walk around the block several times until I heard the first bell.  One day when I was returning to class from one of my noon walks, the principal was in the hall.  She smiled down at me and asked if she might ask a favor of me.  I nodded yes.

"I have to eat lunch everyday by myself and it is very lonesome," she said.  "Do you mind having lunch with me...and chatting?  You don't have to bring a thing, as I always pack too much for lunch...we can share."  It was agreed that we would see each other the next day for lunch in her office.

For the rest of the school year, the principal and I met in her office for lunch.  I loved her sandwiches and milk but most of all I cherished our conversations and the laughter.  We always remembered to tell each other how much we enjoyed the other's company.  Fellow students noticed that I ate lunch with the principal and accorded me the special attention that a celebrity might receive.  I learned to relish this celebrity with grateful humility.

It was many years later that I realized the Principal could see me on my lunch time walks from her second floor office.  From that realization, I knew that she had contrived a way to nourish a scrawny little girl, both physically and spiritually, while preserving that little girl's dignity.   She had also taught her a most important lesson in life...that giving is not about the giver; and that the recipient needn't be made to feel like a charity victim. 

Those lunches nourish me still, as I pass on her quiet, thoughtful caring to others.

All I Need to Know, I've learned from My Dogs

 

Skipper the black Cockador and Scooter the Maltipoo wait for Tall Husband to bring home more doggie treats.

However, these two little guys believe in paying their own way.  That may look like a pile of rocks and twigs to you but here at the Bungalow they are hard cash that Skipper and Scooter have traded for treats...except for that cylindrical rock on the far right.  Tall Husband traded that for a batch of my oatmeal cookies.

Through a Gothic Looking Glass

Moments I've loved.  I loved this moment in time because I was in an environment created by great talent at Installations Antiques and Tall Husband was close by.

Once in a Blue Moon

Moon Shot by Tall Husband

Once in a blue moon, you get an outrageous thing you had asked for...sort of.  When Tall Husband wanted to know what I wanted for our 30th anniversary last May, I answered, "The Moon." Belatedly, here it is. Thanks, Tall Husband.  It's beautiful!

Row on 25th

My neighborhood is full of surprises...like this row of chic houses tucked away on 25th Street, here in the Houston Heights.  Now, don't get me wrong; I still love The Bunny Bungalow, but there is something seductive about modern structures that allude to our American architectural roots.  I also love that the architects did not design garagemahals...instead they put the 2 car in the rear of each house, taking advantage of the allies we retain in the neighborhood.

Can't you just see one furnished by Design Within Reach, the next by Ligne Roset, and the next with Grandmas antiques?

Design and construction of Row on 25th by
Shade House Development http://www.shadehousedev.com/


The skinney: There are five of these beauties now, but there will soon be nine.  They can be leased through Shade House Development.

Remembering: July the Fourth, 1776

 

 

 

Brown in the Garden

 

 

 

Recently, Shop by Brown had an online give away.  Not caring what Brown was giving away, I wanted it, 'cause everything in that shop is to die for.  If they had dust bunnies they would be chic.  I quickly entered my name...soon I received an e-mail stating that I had won.  The winner had a choice of a French bistro table or a pair of French bistro chairs by that fantastic French company Fermob.  I chose the chairs, as I already had an antique French garden table, sans chairs.  Brown gave us a choice of colors and as you can see, Tall Husband and I chose Brown.

Thanks Brown!  We love those garden chairs.

Woosh...Thirty Years Together!

Happy Anniversary, Darling!


I'll never forget your proposal in Paris at that little bistro.  Then back in Houston, on our wedding day, you somehow made your way through a storm and flooded streets to fetch me from the office.  Remember?  I was in the ladies room when I heard loud banging at the door...then, "Don't you want to get married?"


"Yes!  I shouted back.  "Who is it?"

Tall Husband, thanks for choosing me and for all the wild, even dull or tearful moments we have had together.  I wouldn't want to have missed one of them.

The Althea Says, "You're Home"

 Double, white Althea


When The Bunny Bungalow became our fulltime home, we missed some of the things we left behind at My Ranchburger.  The Althea tree with its double blossoms was one of them, so Tall Husband had a neighborhood nursery order a small Althea tree for us last fall.  This is its first summer to bloom.  I look out through the french doors to count the blossoms, as I work in the kitchen and my heart knows this is truly home.  Thank you, Tall Husband. 

Porphyria Awareness Week

Today is my birthday...but more importantly this week is Porphyria Awareness Week.  If I were to have one birthday wish, it would be for a  cure to be developed for porphyria.

Click on photo to enlarge so that you can read more.

In the Nest

Tiny quail eggs, snug in a nest.

May you all be having a peaceful day with those you cherish.

DNA

 

Decades ago, my college biology professor stated to the class, "Just remember that there is something called DNA.  In the future, you will hear more about DNA, exciting and astounding things."  She was right.  This week I learned something really exciting about DNA from Tall Husband.  He had been watching a PBS documentary and told me that there was a company featured on the show that does DNA testing for individuals...at a reasonable cost and without a physician's order!  The company is 23andMe.

I immediately went on line and perused their interesting website, then ordered their DNA kit and a years membership for $207.00 USD, which is cheaper than the DNA testing for our dog Skipper.  Will I find a long-lost family member?  Find out why my joints have dislocated all my life?  Learn that I'm a carrier of some disorder?  Learn my drug responses based on my DNA?  Perhaps I'll even find out why I'm the only real blond in a large family.

Stay tuned, we may be related!

Little Russian Princess so Far Away

Photographs of people you love are double edged...they simultaneously bring a smile and a jab at the heart.  Poignancy is painful.  This is my granddaughter, Cecilia, in her Russian costume.  She is at once physically so far away and digitally near...via her mother's smart phone.


Her mother sends e-mail too: Here is a quote that accompanied the above photo:


David asked me last night what I would have done if I had lived during WWII (they are studying this period in school), and I found a half-dead Nazi on the ground, but had the possibility to save his life? Then we began to talk about the Buddhist notion of karma, etc. Cecilia said she knew what karma meant and would "show" us! So she slapped me on the cheek (she got a scolding!!) and said "See? Karma! I slap you really hard, then my hand hurts! I was pretty stunned...physically and intellectually!

Sleeping Dogs

Skipper, the English Cocker Spaniel/Lab

Scooter, the Malti-poo

What to do on a warm Sunday afternoon?  Take a hint from these experts: find a cool spot and snooze.