Faux Fur Fabulousness

Anyone who knows me or who has seen me dressed for the chillier months, knows that I LOVE faux fur.  I have several faux fur vests and coats.  I plan on upholstering a small stool in my sister’s bedroom with some faux fur because she is in desperate need of a foo foo bench.  Who isn’t, really?

I recently purchased a faux fur pillow to be featured on the formal living room sofa.  Our bond is so deep that I named her Priscilla the Pet Pillow.

I’m also a fan of alliteration.

Maybe I’ll write a book about her one day like those dogs that live at hotels.  Priscilla the Pet Pillow Goes to Paris.

I like it. File that one for retirement.

While there are only so many appropriate applications for faux fur as it doesn’t lend itself to bathing suits, table cloths, or car exteriors, I was ecstatic/overjoyed/borderline mental when I came across Restoration Hardware’s new line of faux fur accents in their catalog.  More specifically, their faux fur wine holders.

faux fur fabulousness

http://www.restorationhardware.com/catalog/product/product.jsp?productId=prod2320311&categoryId=search

How fabulous are these?!?!  AND they are 25% off at just $9!! They come in 6 different kinds of faux fur! I wanted them badly.  I called up the local restoration hardware and the conversation went something like this:

RH lady: “Restoration Hardware.  How can I help you?”

Me: “DO YOU HAVE THE FAUX FUR WINE HOLDERS SHOWN IN YOUR CATALOG AT YOUR STORE??!!?”

RH lady: “Yes, we do.”

Me: “ARE THEY 25% OFF LIKE THEY ARE SHOWN IN THE CATALOG AND ONLINE?!?!?!?!”

RH lady: “Yes, they are.”

Me: “DO YOU HAVE GOOD STOCK?!??!”

RH lady: “We do.”

Me: “I’LL BE RIGHT OVER!!!”

I literally jumped in the car and drove to the mall.  In less than 30 minutes, I was walking out of Restoration Hardware with my bag fabulous faux fur wine holders in tow.

Victory!

Y’all try to stay calm,

Sugarlump

P.S. There is a faux fur laptop case.  I need it.  In Mink.  Does Santa read blogs?

Advertisements

Really Old Stuff

When I was in Burkesville the weekend before last, trying to do some super sneaky research for my barn quilt square, I asked Papa if there were any old cast iron skillets that I could have.  He had mentioned that there might be some in the basement that had come from my great grandparents’ house.  We went down to the basement to investigate.

Well, find a cast iron skillet we did not.  But, we did unearth a bunch of really old stuff.

This is an old hand plane that must have been my great grandfather Daddy Barnie’s.   Papa mentioned that my Dad would probably really like to have this since he is into woodworking.

I’m not really sure how old this is, but I think it’s hilarious.  I need to find out the scoop on this “antique.”

Some of my dad’s old trophies.

8-Track tapes.  This form of technology was phased out before I existed.

This here was Papa’s pointer when he was in the army, training soldiers at Fort Chaffee in Arkansas.   Apparently, if you were in charge, you had a pointer, but not just any pointer.  The body of this pointer is made from a hackberry branch that had been overtaken by a vine, thus leaving it grooved in a spiral shape.  The ends are a bullet and a casing from a 50 caliber machine gun.  I would take that pointer pretty seriously if I were you.

This little contraption is a butter churn.  Mama Bersie, Papa’s mother, made all of her own butter.  Often, it was Papa’s duty to churn the butter, a job he says he did not much care for.

Papa’s report card from a few years back.  Looks like he was a good student.

Papa pulled out Mama Bersie’s trunk and showed me some really neat and REALLY old treasures.

Mama Bersie’s first watch.  This must be at least 75 years old.

Letters that Papa wrote to Mama Bersie and Daddy Barnie while he was in college at the University of Kentucky.  I will have to read these someday.

Wrigley’s Juicy Fruit gum that Daddy Barnie gave to Mama Bersie when they were “courting.”  This stuff is older than Papa.  I wonder if it still has any flavor…

Papa’s housing fee at UK for the semester: $51.00.  I’m not sure that would cover one night of housing in a dorm these days.

Tuition certainly has gone up over the past 61 years.  There are very few textbooks these days that cost as little as $61.50

This is what Papa really wanted to show me.  It’s Mama Bersie’s blue silk wedding dress from over 80 years ago, ordered from the Sears catalog.  Papa requested that if/when each of us granddaughters gets married that we sew a little piece of Mama Bersie’s dress into ours.  Not only would that be a great treasure on such a special day, but it would be something old, something borrowed, and something blue.   I suppose if we were to sew it into our dresses in a functional way, such as a pocket, it could also be something new, too.

This book belonged to Papa’s uncle Nile, who I believe would have been my great great Uncle.

So I went home without a skillet, but Papa cooked up quite a family history lesson for me.

Y’all come back,

Sugarlump

The Addictive Blog Award

Thank you to Peggy Isaacs for nominating me for the Addictive Blog award.  I’m so glad someone else enjoys my little furballs as much as I do!

Award Rules:

  1. Thank the person awarding you.
  2. Share a little about why you blog and how the journey started.
  3. Paste the blog award on your page.
  4. Nominate 10 other bloggers you feel deserve the award.

Why I blog:

I started this blog as a way to capture sweet memories and experiences in my life and share them with my family and friends.  I was inspired by the Pioneer Woman, who I first discovered on the Food Network and whose blog I now read religiously.  Even though I’m not a huge fan of writing, somehow writing posts (to go along with the absurd amount of pictures I now take) has turned into a sort of ritual of reflection through storytelling.  It makes me feel more connected and appreciative.

Somewhat coincidentally, I started this blog just before I moved to a new place on my own and it has been a great way for my family and friends to keep tabs on me and see what I’m up to in my new hometown of Nashville.

Unexpectedly, I have met some wonderful bloggers through this journey, who make my day when they “like” my post or leave a kind comment.

I don’t know where I’d be without this blog.

Blogs I find Addicting:

  1. http://thesimplecountrylife.com/
  2. http://annewheaton.co.uk/about/
  3. http://auburnmeadowfarm.com/blog/
  4. http://thehappyfiles.wordpress.com/
  5. http://texascatny.wordpress.com/
  6. http://icanhas.cheezburger.com/
  7. http://thecatniptimes.wordpress.com/
  8. http://littlemiao.wordpress.com/
  9. http://mecookyummyoneday.wordpress.com/
  10. http://homestead101.wordpress.com/

Thank you to my nominees for making me smile, laugh, scratch my head and reevaluate my life on a regular basis.  I’m hooked.

Y’all come back now, ya hear?

Sugarlump

Let Go and Remember

I have days where I get myself all wound up in a knot about silly things that don’t really matter, but I let them bother me.  Sometimes I blog about these things and other times I don’t because they’re not even worth the energy to write about.  And then, just when I am about to go bonkers over the stupidest thing, someone writes a comment on my blog that cuts to my core and makes me realize that some things aren’t worth stressing over, because in the grand scheme of things, they just don’t matter.

I have written several posts about my sister leaving for Paris for a semester.  I am very excited for her, and yet I will miss having her just a car-ride away.  A fellow blogger commented on my most recent post about my sister leaving, saying that it brought tears to her eyes over her sister that she lost not so long ago.  She thanked me for sharing my story.

Reading that brought tears to my eyes and reminded me how important it is to focus on the things that really matter, like the ones you love and the memories you have shared.  Thank you to my blogging friends for reminding me how much there is to celebrate.

Love y’all,

Sugarlump

P.S. Thank You

The great thing about cleaning out my parents’ house as I prepare to move is finding little treasures like old pictures, cards and papers dating as far back as kindergarten.

The bad thing about cleaning out my parent’s house as I prepare to move is cleaning out my parents’ house.

We have accumulated a lot of stuff that has not been thinned since…..ever.

(WARNING: tangent ahead)

I’ve decided I like organizing, but not “cleaning out.”  Give me a closet full of items tangled up and in a heap and I will gladly put like with like and in nice boxes and baskets, all labeled, color-coded and sorted by occasion/season.  After all, I used to organize the silverware drawer just for kicks when I was in elementary school.  I know, I’m weird.  I can’t help it.

I do NOT, however, care for “cleaning out,” which includes deciding what to throw away, give away or keep, because this involves many messy (and HEAVY) piles, bins, trash bags, nosy cats and 459 trips up and down the stairs from the warzone to the garage.

After completing this process in several rooms this past week, I still have to organize and store what is NOT going with me to Nashville AND pack what IS going with me.  And THEN I have to drive 18 hours, haul the “keep” pile (mountain?) up TWO flights of stairs and UNpack it.  YIIIIKES!  Maybe I’ll just stay in Boston.

Oh wait, nope.

My love for the South is greater than my hatred for “cleaning out,” so I’m sticking to my plan (but apparently not to the point of this post.  My bad.)

Anyway, back to my first point: I have come across some real treasures in this “cleaning out” process, such as this card from my little seeester, Eugene:

Although she has no recollection of this card, judging by its content, her lovely cursive handwriting, and the fact that this card was created using a card program popular in our household at the turn of the century, I have concluded that this card dates back to the day after my sister tried to amputate her arm.

That may be an exaggeration.  It was her finger and it was unintentional (allegedly).

It was just after her 10th birthday, the height of her horse phase.  She had received several toy horses as gifts.  These particular toy horses come packaged as if they are going to gallop off the shelf, with layers and layers of cardboard, molded plastic and lethal plastic ties that keep the horses’ legs bound to the cardboard.  My sister was in the family room trying to free her toy horses from their boxy oppressors when her scissors slipped from the lethal plastic tie and launched into her left index finger which was holding up the box.

I was up in the attic on the computer when a calm voice and a trail of blood drops made its way toward me.  Upon processing this scene, I realized that this was not good but tried to keep my cool.  I was 13 at the time and obviously could not legally drive my sister to the emergency room.  Oh and my parents weren’t home.  Did I forget to mention that?  My mom was on a business trip and my dad was at a dinner in Boston and somehow in the 2 hours between when our nanny left and when my dad was due to arrive home, my sister and I found ourselves in a situation requiring professional medical attention.

After calmly escorting my sister down to the bathroom, I pulled the scissors out of her hand (turns out I should have left them in there, but I thought she might contract tetanus or something terrible) and wrapped her finger up tightly in a towel.   As she sat tight and with very few tears, I called my dad and asked him what I should do and he told me to call my neighbors to see if one of them could drive us over to the emergency room where he would meet us as soon as he could.

I then called one of my neighbors.

Ring, ring, ring…ring… “We can’t come to the phone right now, please leave a message.”

I figured maybe they were having dinner or something so I tried again immediately, hoping these back-to-back calls would communicate a sense of urgency.

Ring, ring, ring…ring… “We can’t come to the phone right now, please leave a message.”

Hmmm (translation: AHHH!).  I tried one more time and then decided they must not have been home.  Then I called my other next-door neighbors.  They did not pick up after several calls either.  I was about to lose my cool, but remembered that my sister was watching me very closely so I called my dad again and asked him what to do.

He told me to call 911.  All of the sudden, this seemed very serious and scary, but somehow I called 911 and the ambulance arrived a few minutes later.  As we were getting into the back of the ambulance, the second neighbor I called came running out of her house, got in the ambulance and traveled with us to the hospital.  At this point, I started to tear up, but my sister (the injured one) kept her cool.

We arrived to the hospital quickly and the doctor checked out my sister’s wound.  My dad got there shortly after.  After seeing my sister’s wound under fluorescent light and hearing the doctor say she needed stitches, I started to feel a little light-headed and had to go back to the waiting room until Eugene was all stitched up and released from the ER.

Even though she was the brave one for not freaking out when she stuck a pair of scissors in her finger, she made this very nice card to thank me for taking care of her.  The card was very sweet and thoughtful, but the P.S. note cracks me up:

As if I didn’t catch on to the sentiment on this card, she just wanted to be sure I got the message in the postscript.  I don’t know why I find this so funny, but I do. Even though that was not an evening I would like to relive (and I’m sure Eugene wouldn’t either), I’m so glad I found this card because it is so Eugene and it makes me smile.

To help you make sense of this post, I have put together a list of takeaways:

  1. Always answer your phone because it might be your panicking 13 year old neighbor calling about a scissors accident
  2. Deliberate long and hard before deciding to have children
  3. Packaged toys (particularly horses) pose a threat to your life and opening them may result in stitches
  4. Don’t move to a new place or you will be subject to some “cleaning out”
  5. “Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”
  6. (what?)
  7. P.S. Thank you

Y’all come back now, ya hear?

Sugarlump