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.