Christmases Past

I stumbled across a few gems from Christmases in the late 1980’s/early 1990’s.

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Evidently, I used to be a Christmas angel.

(My mother just informed me that this was not a good day.

Apparently, I did not want to have my picture taken.

Can you blame me?

Two words, Mom: white tights.)

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While sitting to have my picture made was not high on my list, I certainly got my money’s worth out of my toys.  Never was a child more content to play with her dollhouse for hours on end.

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I enjoyed commanding the attention of many a den full of family members.

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I was happy to pitch in and help document the family Christmas.

(Thankfully, Fashion Police hasn’t gotten wind of these pants.  I was a very skinny toddler and all I can say about these pants is that my mother must have had high hopes that I would expand drastically and require pant legs large enough to store my toys in.  No such luck.  I bet even now I wouldn’t have an issue getting those things over my thighs.)

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Christmases were going swimmingly.

(Aside from the fashion.)

And then suddenly I wasn’t the only grandchild anymore….

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By 1993, there were four.

Oh how Christmases have changed over the last couple of decades…

Merry Christmas, y’all,

Sugarlump

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Young and Fabulous

I’ve been going through old family photo albums lately.  Now I know why people take so many pictures and put them in albums: it’s absolutely hilarious to look back in time.

While looking through these old albums, I discovered that when I was young I was pretty fabulous.

I wore hot pink jelly flats, floral tops and patterned band aids.   I must have been subscribing to the “more is more” philosophy of dress.

This shot was taken at the front row of fashion week…in Granny and Papa’s den.

I wore sunglasses in the house and Mary Jane’s on a regular basis.  In hindsight, I might have opted for some sheer black stockings instead of the white tights, but we all fall victim to toddler fashion trends at some point in our lives.

Hopefully, it’s while we’re toddlers.

I wore sunglasses at night.  My theory on this obviously practical choice is that posing in my sunglasses after my bath prolonged having to go to bed.  My mom was eating it up.  It was genius.

I rocked white faux fur.  The paparazzi (my dad) caught me leaving the house in it Easter morning of what looks to be 1991.

This was my parents’ first home, purchased in the era of the high-teen mortgage rates.  And, bless their hearts, they still managed to keep me stylin’.

I wish I were as fabulous now as I was then.   I’m not sure that I could pull off any of these things now.

More to come on the first decade on my life.  Brace yourselves.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

Melon-y Felony

I don’t know where to start. These are watermelon outfits. MATCHING watermelon outfits, no less. Granny loved to have her babies dressed in matching outfits.  Why these outfits had to feature large watermelons and candy-cane striped legging-shorts, I’m not sure. … Continue reading

Inspection Misconception

Yesterday morning, I set out bright and early/at 10:45 after sleeping in and went to get my Jeep inspected because the Massachusetts sticker on my windshield indicated that my inspection was due by the end of August and it was now … Continue reading

A Woman of My Word

I talked to dear little Eugene on Skype today.  We discussed many things about her first week in Paris, the most important of those being the shopping of course.  She showed me her latest finds, one of which was a pair of shoes.  Men’s style, smoking slippers in cheetah print.  They will look adorable on her because she has narrow feet and a high arch so even though they are based on a men’s style shoe, her feet won’t look manly in them.  Seeing my favorable reaction, Eugene asked me if I might want a pair.  I had considered this a while back when this style starting appearing in stores here and had come to the conclusion that my less narrow and less-arch-y feet might not look so cute in these shoes, but instead rather manly.  Eeek.

So I told Eugene that I would be passing on smoking slippers, but to let me know if she found any pretty blouses.  Surely those won’t look masculine on me.

Not two hours later, I was at the mall shopping for some black pants for work when I somehow found myself in the 65% off shoe racks at Dillards.  I really have no idea how these things happen.  I think it has something to do with a gravitational pull.   Some sort of fundamental law of physics pertaining to women and shoes.  I believe it’s called Prada’s law.

 

Anyway, I was circling the 7/7.5 rack like a lioness on the hunt for food for her cubs, when I ran across these little smoking slipper gems.  I had seen them when they first hit stores a few months back.  I had picked them up, swooned, considered the manliness factor, decided they might not be so bad due to their colorfulness, sequins, and hint of animal print, and then I put them back on the display because I couldn’t justify such a novelty purchase when I needed more basic and versatile shoes for work.  

When I came across them again this evening, I was still on the hunt for practical shoes for work, but these shoes were much more enticing and justifiable at 65% off.  I put them on with my black yoga pants.  They didn’t look half-bad.  I shook my head, telling myself that these were superfluous.  Very fun, but certainly not what I need right now.  I put them back on the shelf and walked around trying to find some basic black wedges, which have proven to be impossible to find this year. 

 

Black wedge-less, I kept finding myself in front of the semi-manly, awesome shoes and I kept telling myself that I really didn’t need them.

But it didn’t matter.  Because you just can’t say no to fabulous.  

 

Precisely two hours and fifteen minutes after telling my sister that I didn’t want any smoking slippers, I purchased smoking slippers.  

Clearly, I’m a woman of my word.

I can’t wait until Eugene reads this.  I predict a lot of head-shaking.

Y’all stay fabulous,

Sugarlump

Chichi-cago

I was in Chicago yesterday and today for the ASID Design Awards and NeoCon, one of the biggest interior design trade shows.   I spent several hours yesterday wandering around the hundreds of thousands of square feet of showrooms in the … Continue reading

Country Weekend

This past weekend, my sister came down for CMA fest.   We missed my cousins who weren’t able to come, but there’s always next year!  Eugene and I pinky-promised that we would make attending CMA fest a tradition. Here we are in … Continue reading

The Garden: Progress Report #3

I visited the garden at the end of last week to check on its progress.  I had shown up to my grandparents’ house in a cotton summer dress so I changed into a white Hanes t-shirt, athletic shorts and my Crocs to go around to the garden.  This was Papa’s response to my outfit:

“That’s a mighty casual outfit to garden in.”

I didn’t really know what to make of this comment considering I viewed gardening as a very casual event and thus thought I had dressed appropriately.

After many hours of reflection, I believe Papa thought perhaps that I should be wearing full pants and boots to minimize bug-bites and such.

That’s all I can come up with.  I really don’t think Papa thought I should be wearing anything formal for gardening.

ANYWAY…

Things are moving along nicely and looking a little less patchy than they did on my last visit.

The romaine lettuce had taken a turn for the worse.  Some animal had nearly demolished it.

The beets are huge! Or at least much larger than last time.

Papa has caged his tomatoes as the plants started to shoot up.

A few of the plants even have baby tomatoes!

I don’t know why I’m so excited about this.  I don’t even like tomatoes.  But I guess it shows that the garden is growing so I do like that.

The onions haven’t changed much.

The cabbage looks beautiful.  Too bad I don’t like cabbage.  Why can’t the animals eat this instead of the good stuff??

My brussel sprout plants are looking big and leafy!  I think we’re supposed to cut these leaves off once the plants start to sprout…the sprouts.   I’d better figure that out soon.

Here are all of the beans that Papa planted.  In the middle and right rows are the pole beans:  speckled limas, half-runners, and partridge heads(!). On the left we have poor house beans, which are heirlooms and have been in the family for generations.  They are bush beans.

I got word from Papa a few days ago that the poor house beans were devoured by some groundhogs.  Poor, poor house beans.

This is a photo I took pre-massacre.

Papa had found some patridge head seed in the deep freeze from 1997 (literally) and he wasn’t sure that they would come up so he planted as many as 8 in a hill (he normally does 3).

Oh boy did they come up!  So much so, in fact, that I had to thin them so the plants produce well.  This broke my heart to pull up perfectly good bean plants, but I guess if it means more actual beans, it’s worth it.  It still made me sad.

Here are the roma beans.  They have filled out considerably.  They were looking a little patchy last time.

Even though the bean plants look small, it was time to stick ‘em!

So Papa brought some bamboo sticks down from the barn.

And we worked down the rows making little teepees for the beans.  I think it looks real purty.

I stepped back to admire our handywork and then I heard a “hhhmppppflllll.”

Oh hello there.  Our supervisor was pleased with our work as well.

After the sticks were in place, Papa gave me the job of thinning the beans (if there were more than 3 plants around each stick) and then mounding up the dirt at the base of the sticks to tuck in the beans.

This was the first time I had used a hoe. Pretty handy tool if you ask me.

Above are some of the partridge head casualties of the thinning.  Sad.

Here is the finished product.  Not too shabby.

Now let’s get some beans growing!

Y’all come back!

Sugarlump

Seeester’s Birthday

Today is my seeester Eugenice’s birthday.

She came to visit me this weekend and boy did we have a BIG time.

First, we shopped around in downtown Franklin and had an early lunch at Puckett’s.  We left the restaurant to check out a cute little bakery and stumbled upon this completely normal scene on Main Street:

The latest in hybrid vehicles.

Thankfully this guy kept his road rage under control.

Apparently the dress code for this event was formal.

Somehow (perhaps inspired by our canine acquaintance’s fashion statement), we wound up at the mall where I purchased these VERY tall shoes.  I thought that I was going to sneak one by Eugene and finally be taller than her.  But then she also bought some VERY tall shoes.  So I got to be tall and she got to be VERY tall.  At least I was tall.

Here are some very professional photos we took of ourselves dressed to go out to dinner.

I’m not sure what’s going on with my right eye here.  I think it got stuck.

Eugene’s poof was not cooperating.

We take ourselves very seriously.  Obviously.

This makes me laugh uncontrollably every time I look at it.

The point of these pictures was to capture our full outfits, especially our sassy new shoes.  Clearly we succeeded.

Not.

We ventured down to the Gulch and had a delicious dinner at Sambuca’s, where we enjoyed some great live music in our VERY tall shoes.  We also had a celebrity sighting, which was a special present that I organized for Eugene (not really, but that’s what I told her.  I won some major points).

After enjoying ourselves thoroughly at dinner, we started toward the door and realized it was pouring rain outside.  We decided to wait it out for a little while, but then it just started raining harder.

Wonderful.

So, we agreed to cut our losses, take off our new tall (and suede) shoes, stick them in my purse and run for the hills (the car).  I hope someone witnessed this and had a good laugh.

The next morning I whipped up a gourmet breakfast of Eggo waffles, butter and butter-flavored syrup.  I then served this delicacy on my formal storage bin table next to the sofa.  I know this made Eugene feel really special.

As I tried to take a picture of Eugene enjoying this beautiful breakfast spread, my camera went off like a machine gun.  Evidently, the night before as we tried to take pictures before going out to dinner, Eugene had adjusted my camera to a timed, rapid-fire setting so we could back up and get a picture of ourselves since there was no one else to take a photo of us.   I was not aware that my camera was still on this setting when I turned it on the next morning.  As it went off, my instinct was to find cover because I had no idea what was happening.

Eugene just shook her head.

All in all, I would call it a very successful weekend of birthday/sister shenanigans.

Welcome to the third decade of your life, poodle.   I hope you had a stupendous Birthday.

I LAHV you.

Y’all be careful and take an umbrella,

Sugarlump