Home Decor

My friend Susan Cantrell and her daughter-in-law, Freda Brewer, have opened the most wonderful store in Sheffield, Alabama. Called Upscale Resale, it’s a furniture and home-decor consignment shop — but it’s so much more than simply a place to find a fantastic bargain. Both Susan and Freda are so creative and imaginative — there are delightful surprises everywhere you look: A basket of shells, an old door used to highlight hanging shelves, a row of colorful bottles that catch and reflect the light. And Susan and Freda emphasize the frugal use-what-you-have approach that helps you appreciate what you’ve already got. “We’re eclectic and a little bit funky,” Susan said. “We like to think that along with recycled furniture, we have unique investment items that will go up in value for the home — items you will not find at large import stores.  Also, we do think it is a great idea to recycle what is already available on the planet.  Remember: Reduce, reuse, recycle!” This is the place to find a whimsical painting that’s perfect for your kitchen, a pottery bowl that just fits on your coffee table or a simply chic chair that brightens the living-room corner. Or, do what I do and go to Upscale Resale for some conversation and relaxation — a visit always cheers me up and inspires me to actually decorate instead of arrange. Upscale Resale is open from 10 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. Mondays-Fridays and from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturdays. Call the store at 245.381.7773 for more information.

Family

Do you all have a first-day-of-school ritual in your family? We do in ours — and Younger Daughter remembered what it was this past week as she marked her Last First Day of School. I wrote about it in my newspaper column this past Friday for the TimesDaily in Florence, Alabama. It’s not up at the www.timesdaily.com Web site so I’m posting it below because I want to hear from others about their first-day-of-school traditions. C’mon — let’s share!

Here it is:

I was pouring coffee in the kitchen one recent weekday morning when my cell phone on the counter vibrated with the “incoming text message” sound I’ve gotten used to ever since I learned how to text – although I’m still slow and always afraid my recipients will lose interest and wander away before I get my message typed.

Anyway, when I picked up my phone, there was a photo of my younger daughter, a college student in Birmingham. She had sent me a photo of herself headed out her door to class with the words “Hi, Mom! Happy last first day of school!”

I had to set my coffee down as I realized she was right: This, her first day of her (we hope) last semester of college, was the last time one of my children would have a first day of school.

Wow. I had to sit down myself as I considered that.

Every August for more than 20 years, one or the other or both of my daughters had a first day of school as classes reconvened after summer vacation.

And every first day of school, I’d taken a picture.

I started taking the pictures, of course, to capture the adorable cuteness of the girls when they were little and eagerly facing their first days of kindergarten and first and second grades with carefully scrubbed faces, shining beribboned pigtails and gleaming new backpacks and lunchboxes featuring the latest Disney princess.

Who could resist recording such a moment?

But even as they grew past the days of me dressing them in smocked back-to-school dresses with matching hairbows – “What do you mean you don’t want to wear a dress with little red apples on it?” — we kept the first-day-of-school photo. In fact, unbelievably, we kept the tradition going into the I-can’t-believe-you’re-doing-this-to-me middle-school days and then into the mom-would-you-please-hurry-up-I’ve-got-to-go high-school days.

It became an inviolate part of the first day of school in our family. No matter how sleepy or cranky they were, the girls would smile for the camera so I could get those first-day-of-school shots. They probably realized it was the only way I’d let them leave.

After she graduated high school, my older daughter lived at home and went to the University of North Alabama – and I managed to grab a couple first-day shots until she realized she could sneak out early and avoid the whole embarrassing ritual.

I had better luck with my younger daughter, though – with the help of technology. On her first day of class at college in Birmingham, she sent me a cell-phone photo of her smiling self heading out the dorm door. And she’s done that ever since.

And now, sitting in my kitchen where so many years before the girls had disappeared out the door for so many first days of schools, I was looking at the last photo of the last time that would happen.

Until about four years from now, that is – when grandson Capt. Adorable starts the process all over again.

Home Decor

My friend Evelyn wowed us the other night when we arrived at her house for our monthly book-club meeting and discovered she’d been busy redecorating. Our jaws dropped — I mean, literally, I stood there with my mouth open. Before, Evelyn’s living room was a cozy and comfortable gathering spot, but she said she wanted something completely different — and she got it. Now the room is rich with color and texture and looks about a million times bigger with the emphasis on those gorgeous windows that really you didn’t notice so much before. Evelyn used a professional decorator, with she and her husband, Steve, picking out the oh-so-soft sofa themselves. She said she learned to trust the decorator — many times the decorator would pick something out and she and Steve would think, “Uh, that’s just not going to work,” but once the room came together they understood the vision. I believe this is my new favorite room. Ever.

Sports

 As the calendar gets ready to flip over to September, these are exciting days in Alabama. Why, you ask? Well, I’ll tell you — and you know that if you have to ask, you obviously don’t live in Alabama. Because … it’s Football Eve! Finally, after weeks — months? — of anticipation and planning and hard work and sweat and tears, football is here again. Tonight there are a few high school games, with the bulk of the high-school season openers on Friday night. The University of North Alabama, our hometown college that’s always a powerhouse, plays its first game on Saturday, and then next weekend we get down to business as Alabama, Auburn, Ole Miss and others show us what they’ve got. All across the state, everybody’s busy checking supplies of school T-shirts, pom-poms, shakers, grills, BBQ and coolers. And of course, just because the season’s starting doesn’t mean that practice time is over. There are still hours ahead of drills and run-throughs under the steamy summer sun as frustrated cries of “Left! Left! You’re supposed to turn left there!” and “Didn’t you see Clint there on the 50-yard line? How could you run over him?” ring out across the practice field. But it’s all worth it on Game Day, as the lights pop on and the crowds gather and the fans follow your every move — roaring approval and rising to their feet in wildly enthusiastic applause for a job well done.

Yup — I love marching band season. Why? What did you think I was talking about???

Fashion

I am pretty much the messiest eater ever. I literally cannot get up from a table without a shower of crumbs, I carry stain removal products with me at all times and my husband begs me not to drink my favorite strawberry-flavored drink mix in the car because I leave splatters of red everywhere. This problem led me to create the Cathy Wood Method of Wardrobe Selection, or, How to Coordinate Your Clothing with Your Food So You Don’t Look Like the Slob You Truly Are and Your Family and Friends Will Eat with You Again. Intrigued? It really works! No more hastily pulling on a sweater to hide the coffee dribbles. No more holding your purse in front of you to distract from the gravy droplets. You will be free to eat and enjoy without fear! Read more at http://www.timesdaily.com/article/20090826/SW/908259959/1085.

And while you’re there, read other Shoals Woman articles, such as the story on Halloween food, http://www.timesdaily.com/article/20090826/SW/908259955/1085 with my friend Kara Sams, and  another story I wrote — a guide to retirement planning, http://www.timesdaily.com/article/20090826/SW/908259973/1085.

Family

Is there anything better on a hot summer day than cooling off in your backyard pool? Especially when the pool is a family heirloom? My mom had this inflatable pool at her house more than 20 years ago for her granddaughters and now her great-grandson thinks it’s the best thing ever. Honestly, I didn’t remember the pool, but my mom kept saying, “I have the pool the girls played in and it would be perfect for Capt. Adorable.”  And she was right! It fits just exactly on the patio, which is in the afternoon shade, and 17-months-old Capt. Adorable and his mommy get out and have fun in it almost every day (although that’s the Captain’s aunt in the photo). Say the word “pool” and the Captain’s at the patio door, ready to go. It took him awhile, but now he’s fully conversant in the arts of splashing, pouring and dumping cupfuls of water on anyone brave enough to get close.

Friends — and Bad Poetry

Do you see that huge guffaw of laughter coming out of my mouth in this photo? Trust me, it’s there. And do you also see that strange look on my husband’s face, almost as if he were embarrassed about something? Trust me, he is. We were at the annual — or whenever we can get everybody together — Wild Drunken Brawl that our friend on the left organizes. And don’t worry: It’s not wild, the drunkenness is overstated and no brawling is allowed. Instead, we all gather at a beautifully peaceful farm near Manchester, Tennessee — which most of us claim as our hometown — and spend the evening reminiscing around a campfire. We lucked out this past weekend with unusually cool and clear August weather and had a fantastic time. Since most of the crowd also graduated in communications from nearby Middle Tennessee State University, our trips down memory lane include our shared college days. One of my friends who was attending her first WDB brought with her a copy of Collage, the MTSU literary magazine that most of us worked with at one time or another. For this particular issue, my husband John Pitts (he wasn’t my husband then, although we were friends and did date sort of off and on) had done an interview with Steve Martin, who performed at MTSU  just when he was on the verge of greatness — an interview which still reads well today, decades later. However, also in this Collage was a poem my husband John Pitts had written, and that’s what we’re looking at in this photo. It did not read well decades later. I can’t really describe this poem. There was a lot of angst and beer-drinking and something about some woman and lonely nights and even though we called for the author to give us a reading around the campfire, he quickly declined. I can’t imagine why. And of course this gave me an idea for a book: A collection of bad college poetry. It’s gotta be a bestseller.

Mailboxes

Did you know that U.S. mail carriers can give you a parking ticket? Well, not really. But they can leave you snarky little notes. Yesterday I went to my daughter’s house and parked on the street, careful to not block their mail box. I am a law-abiding citizen, after all. And polite. But apparently I am not law-abiding or polite enough because when my son-in-law came home from work, he was waving a parking-ticket-like piece of paper and laughing. “The mail carrier is mad at you,” he said. The paper was printed with 19 infractions, complaints and transgressions regarding residential mail boxes and according to the emphatic and accusatory black-ink circle, I had broken No. 9: “The approach to your box should be kept clear of snow, vehicles and other obstacles.” Sooorrrrryyyy. Let’s get the measuring tape out, shall we? But what really got me was all the other 18 home-mailbox rules that potentially could be contravened, such as “No. 2 – The door needs attention:” ”Nos. 5-6 — Box should be raised/lowered __ inches;” “No. 10 — The signal flag needs attention;” and “No. 18 — Your box should be painted to prevent rusting.” Who knew? The note goes on to say that the Postal Service might stop delivering mail until you raise/lower, paint or whatever. But what about all the dilapidated, rusted, dented, falling-down and falling-apart mailboxes I see all the time? Do they get snarky little notes, too? It’s like all the people who speed past you on the interstate and then you get stopped for doing 3 miles over the limit. Sigh. And then in related news — how’s that for former newspaper-reporter lingo? — I read this morning that the Postal Service is removing its blue collection boxes because fewer people are using them. Coincidence??? I think not.

Shopping

This is — to use one of my dad’s favorite expressions — a prime example of … well, I don’t know what. But something. It’s still two weeks until the Labor Day weekend, yet walking around a corner in Hobby Lobby I ran smack dab into a clash of holidays that jarred my eyes and confused my brain. Islands of orange pumpkins and homespun scarecrows competed with rows of red Christmas bows and twinkling evergreen trees. I don’t even know if a summer item was left anywhere in the store — if you’re looking for something to enhance your Labor Day cookout, forget it. And why is Hobby Lobby doing this to us, anyway? On my ever-lengthening Stress List, “get ready for holidays” wasn’t even a contender. But now it’s vying for a top spot. Thanks a lot, Hobby Lobby!

Shopping

You all know that shopping for almost-17-month-old grandson Capt. Adorable is one of my most favorite things to do — and this outfit is one of the reasons why. I love little-boy clothes! I think it’s because little-boy clothes look almost exactly like real big-boy clothes — with the cuteness factor upped by about 100. For instance, how cute is this pirate-themed shorts and T-shirt? I spied it at Janie and Jack children’s boutique at the Summit in Birmingham, Alabama, this past weekend and I had to have it. Didn’t even stop to think. It’s from the Treasure Explorer collection that has all sorts of appliqued and embroidered pirate details such as parrots, maps and treasure chests. I don’t know why this appealed to me so much — calling Jack Sparrow! — but I do know that Capt. Adorable will look … well, adorable in it.  And now that I’ve check the Janie and Jack Web site, http://www.janieandjack.com, I notice that all the pirate things are on sale. Dear husband, look away.