Let’s Get Shopping! {1st Birthday Baby Girl Gifts}

Valerie asked for a shopping post themed around gift ideas for a birthday party. Yay! I love birthday parties! Oh wait, this is not just any birthday, but a one-year-old, chubby-faced, pink-cheeked baby girl birthday.  I had to restrain myself from hugging my computer in rapture, honestly. And, I have to warn you: if I wind up pregnant tomorrow, it’s all your fault. I’M SO OVERCOME BY THE CUTENESS.

<Ahem.>

Anyhoodle, babies are cute.

SO ARE THESE:

Cowbaby boots, is what they are called. MY LORD. $29.99 from Shepler’s. So what that I can buy myself shoes that take 10 times the material for that price? They’re heart-meltingly cute, and so fitting for a Texas baby, since you all ride your horses to school or ride tumbleweeds for fun or whatever.

Want something a bit more girly, and more realistic for a hot Texas summer? If this doesn’t say “cutest baby in Galveston” I don’t know what does:

$22.50 from Amazon. Does this come in my size?

Rolling right along with the beach theme, I think you need this number from Pottery Barn Kids. Not just a towel and not merely a robe, but BOTH, TOGETHER. (I also picked this for the hula girls. Fond remembrances of Molly, the American Girl? Anyone?)

Since it is a birthday, every birthday girl should get a shirt proclaiming how special she is. (Click through to modernfrills on Etsy for the full awesomeness) Behold:

Plus, it features a cake stand! My heart, it explodes.

On a budget? Say no more, but click on these sparkly, oh-so-small-and-thus-cute flip-flops for only $10.99:

Speaking of sparkles, you know who is a close relative of Sparkles? Ruffles. You know who loves Ruffles? Baby butts.

That’s right, boys and girls, you will never have imagined this, but I have found a company called “RuffleButts” and I am actually not turned off at all, but will probably end up buying something. And getting pregnant. This is how mushy my brain is after a few hours of baby shopping. BUT IT’S ALL SO CUTE.

Speaking of, um, heart explosions and logic fallacies and making babies, I had to include this. I know the birthday girl is not a newborn. But it’s almost worth having a baby, just to get one of these in your possession: (From knitwitwoolies on Etsy)

Awwwwwwwwrrrrr, woook at dose baby toezzzz!

Ahem. ‘Scuse me. Hi guys, glad you’re still here.

Alrighty then.

My friends who have babies tell me that anything with these ribbon tabs on them makes babies very happy. So, I found one shaped like an owl, because I like owls. ($12.95 from canelajoy on Etsy.)

Now that we’ve moved on to toys, I have to show you something that is just fetching:

Nevermind. I can’t. But you should go to Lillian Vernon and see their fabric tea set because it made me want to have tea parties with my teddy bears and the Queen and my less-than-enthusiastic little brother.

Tea with the Queen? How about tea with a really weird-looking horror movie? No? How about with the most adorable toy you’ve ever seen?

I’m IN LOVE with this Little Red Riding Hood. I’m kind of tempted to buy her, just in case somebody has a baby girl and really needs her. You can never be too prepared you know.

From violastudio on Etsy:

OK, and I just have one last thing. Even though I have ooohed and aaaaahed and made a fool of myself this entire post, I do have to keep up a certain level of appearances. You know, us girls with no babies are never the first to hold them and we all talk about our ignorance with regard to such things, as a matter of pride. So, it is my duty to provide you with at least one snarky gift amongst the crowd of bows and frills:

You’re welcome. Did I do this subject justice? Tell me what I should tackle in Part Deux or validate my oooohs and aaaaaahs in the comments.

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Let’s Get Shopping! {Wall Hooks}

I GOT A REQUEST! You, my people, as much as I love you all, are not always forthcoming when I ask for suggestions and advice, HOWEVER, the lovely Elanor asked me to go searching for hooks for her and her daughter’s aprons, I was all over it.

See, my people? You ask, I give. That’s me, I’m a giver.

Alrighty, then, on to the shopping!

Since the request was for a kitchen-related hook… this lovely number from Anthropologie would be darling:

Right? Silverware? Kitchens? Aprons? It all fits the theme and it makes me want to just dance with happiness! (It’s $40, but think about all the bending of spoons that you won’t have to do!)

Speaking of the whole DIY route, check out these starfish hangars from Etsy, or this KILLER lightbulb from Apartment Therapy, below:

But you don’t want DIY, do you? This is a shopping blog-post after all. Let’s buy stuff!

I actually own a couple of these babies. In my bower, I used them for towels in my itty-bitty bathroom. Since I moved in here with Adam over two years ago, it’s very normal that these are still stashed next to my dresser instead of hung up somewhere being cute. Nothing like a blog to shame somebody into a little home improvement! Anyhoodle, they’re from Pier One and totes adorbs and only $14.95!

Of course, I also love these from Live Wire Farm. I am a woodsy kinda girl, and these make me want to grow tomatoes and make giant cauldrons of soup for a boisterous family of hungry boys.

Speaking of being woodsy, I’m also an unabashed cowgirl. These might be overkill for an apron, but who says you can’t brand your kitchen? $18 each from Sundance (and they can be personalized! Extra snazzy.)

OK, and this one from benfloeter on Etsy was just too kitschy and fun to pass up. You know how I love me some facial hair, so why not put it on my wall?! If it’s good enough to kiss, it’s good enough to hang aprons on, I always say.

Again, too big for aprons, I know. BUT SO CLASSY. This looks like something from a grown-up house, and I likes it. (Also, it’s priced like something from a grown-up house, but nevermind that. $89.95 from Plow and Hearth.)

OK, these last couple I couldn’t get pictures for. But Soda Fountain hooks! Puhleeeeze buy dem. Also, Anthro’s slightly tattered little sister, Urban Outfitters, has a couple of cuties too. (And they have flowers. Bonus!)

Oh, and one last one. This doesn’t work for anything I was entrusted to find, but it is beeeeeyooooootifull. It’s a ski rack. An antique, honest-to-goodness ski rack. I don’t even ski and I think this is the most amazing thing I have ever wanted to spend my entire grocery budget on. Oh, Eddie Bauer, you are a sassy, woodsy, flannel-clad vixen.

Ok, peeps, it’s all you all over again. What would you like me to shop for next?! I will breathlessly awaiting your suggestions, as will my credit cards.

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On trends, and watching them like a nearsighted and distracted hawk

I have some very stylish friends. I always have, and I have always been a bit behind them. Every decade or so the rest of the world likes what I like, and the rest of the time I trip along my merry road, wearing cowboy boots with everything and loving plaid, anywhere, all the time, no matter what you think of me.

Don’t get me wrong – I DO love trends – I just love them about two years after everybody else does. You know what this gets me, though?

I’ll tell you.

Amazing, phenomenal, unbelievable DEALS. I don’t buy wrapping paper before Christmas and I don’t buy skinny jeans when Lucky tells me to, thus saving myself much emotional and monetary pain. Allow me to illustrate:

• Roughly four years after I saw my first skinny jeans with my virgin boot-cut-only eyes, I bought a pair with a free Rock and Republic gift card from a blogging contest.
• At least 18 months after telling friends that I “might take the plunge and buy leggings” – I bought them. For $10. They are adorbs.
• Two years after seeing Holli rock a tuxedo jacket, I bought one yesterday. For $7, on sale from $65.

I may not watch trends like the proverbial hawk, but sales? They are ALL MINE.

*All of this talk of shopping and cooking and homeyness lately has made me consider a new feature to this here blog. Should I write some reviews of cooking stuff? Perhaps home stuff? Maybe style stuff several years after it’s popular? My home and kitchen are smashing, even if my legs are still clothed in decades-old boot-cut light-washed jeans. I promise. You tell me, would you be interested in any of the above?

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Boeuf Bourguignon, Cowboy-style

I love Julia Child. I also love to cook, but more in the fashion of Chef Louis – with much humming and jigging and dabs of flour and throwing ingredients about – rather than Julia – with several pages of detailed instructions on poaching eggs.

My style, while entertaining for my guests (I try to sing to my dishes as often as possible) can get in the way of new culinary experiences, and my lack of attention to recipes, my tendency to make things up as I go along and my blithe ignorance of how to cook anything that would feed any less than ten hungry men has gotten me in trouble more than once.

But finally, my friends, I have made up a recipe so divine that I absolutely HAD to write it down and share it with you, in hopes that I’ll remember what I did right and learn to cook like a real person instead of a backwoods mamma.

Which, really, is unlikely, because all I did was mash together Julia’s absolutely awesome Boeuf Bourguignon with my backwoods mamma style and my insatiable love of my darling Crock-Pot.

So little dearies, without further ado, here is my attempt at a recipe, for your chomping enjoyment:

***

Boeuf Bourguignon, Cowboy-style

Ingredients:

One bottle of red wine – I used Pinot Noir (really only half the bottle – the rest is to reward yourself with as you slave over a hot Crock-Pot).

One lb (or so) sirlion steak, cut into chunks.

One medium onion, chopped.

Half-lb frozen veggies, whatever you like best – I used a pea and carrot mix.

12-oz whole Cremini mushrooms. They blend better with the red wine than button mushrooms and they look pretty when they’re whole, so I make life easy on myself and don’t chop them up.

One can diced tomatoes (no need to drain, pour the juice in too).

A tablespoon salt

A teaspoon black pepper.

Two teaspoons red cayenne pepper (less if you’re don’t like spice).

Quarter-cup of Balsalmic Vinegar

One lb of bacon (added later).

Directions: Throw it all in a Crock-Pot on low for at least six hours. Drink the rest of your wine.

About an hour before you plan to serve this luscious dinner, fry up your bacon and break into bitesize pieces. Put the bacon in your broth and add wine, salt and pepper if needed, but remember that the bacon will add a lot of salty flavor to your broth. You don’t want it to be soupy, just add enough wine that you have a healthy broth to savor. Let the bacon play with his friends in there for about an hour (less is okay if you’re in a hurry), then serve.

Serve with a smile on your face, more red wine, and mashed potatoes. (Preferably Yukon Gold – they’re the creamiest.)

***

It’s so GOOD. Seriously. It tastes like you just had dinner out of a chuck wagon on the prairie, but instead of Hop Sing, your cook’s name is Pierre and he is a romantic French cowboy with a penchant for open skies and Crock-Pots.

You will love it. At least I hope so. Try it and tell me what you think! I mean, if you want. But you do. Because who doesn’t beef and wine and bacon and Julia Child and cowboys?

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Lessons learned amidst flour and sugar

I love to cook. I really, truly do. Our cousins, knowing this fascinating tidbit about me, gave me this piece of wonderment:

Trouble is, the cute little cutters don’t actually come laid out adorably with a ready-made cookie tree standing delightedly over them. No, you have to make the batter, cut it into various sizes of star shapes, bake said stars, put it together into tree formation, frost it green and infuse Christmas joy into it, all while not letting the dough stick to every piece of your clothing or using every dish ever invented. Well. I had this handled, I was sure. I love Christmas projects! I love baking! I love sugar! I love trees!

(pause for ominous foreshadowing)

I’ll tell you now – my tree did not look like the picture. Actually, my tree never wound up existing, which should give you a clue as to how poorly this project went. Let me help you with any future baking projects you might be attempting with these humble life lessons learned yesterday:

• If you have a small kitchen, perhaps you should rethink baking projects that require large amounts of dough to be rolled out. Especially if said dough is very sticky and your only available rolling surface is a small cutting board.
• Speaking of small kitchens, if the top of your microwave is the only space available for a cooling rack, your kitchen is too small for this project. Put the cookie cutters away and do something apartment-dwellers do, like BUY OREOS.
• If you have a lot going on in your life at any given time, do not try to “squeeze in” large, difficult culinary projects. Set aside an afternoon, or better yet, 48 hours in which to get messy to your hearts’ content. Do not try to answer emails, phone calls or sound halfway professional when you have flour on your nose and cookies burning in a forgotten pan of your tiny oven.
• Speaking of tiny ovens, when you can only cook five cookies at a time and foolishly made a double-batch of batter in your pre-baking fervor, do not simply continue forging ahead. Giving up is an option and preferable to spending the rest of your life baking the same batch of cookies.
• However, there is redemption – for when your batter is sticking and your stars are lumpy and you’re starting to feel a bit teary-eyed and desperate and you can’t find a spare bit of counter to rest your cookie sheet on and you can’t imagine washing all of these dishes… give the cookies to a boy. He will eat them and think they’re fantastic and won’t even care that they look rather like the clay stars you made in 1st grade.

I’m so glad I’m married to a boy.

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Reverb10 – Make

December 6th’s Reverb prompt is: Make. What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it?

The answer is, yes. I want to make a lot of things, mostly because I can’t recall the last thing I made, it’s been so long. I’ve been feeling stretched and stressed lately. A combination of obligations and life being life has contributed to my feeling like everybody but me is getting my time and priority. I came home last night and tearfully told Adam I can’t do anymore, which he took perfectly, annoyingly in stride and said, yeah, you’ve been really busy, take a break. Gosh I love him. How is that so simple but so hard?

So today I’m owning it. It’s time for me to make something: for myself, of myself and by myself.

I’m going to take time to make something because I want to. Bread and muffins, pot roasts and pasta, wreaths and note cards, stories and memories – so that I can get refreshed, and keep all of the creative impulse burning inside me from coming out in tears and worry and overwhelmed snot-nosed brattiness. Plus, my honey-bunny likes eating, and cooking is therapeutic for me, so that’s what they call a win-win.

So today I’m clearing time, as the prompt suggests. I’m baking and stewing and writing and fa-la-laing. I expect to be ungloomified tomorrow.

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Guest Post: Expanding the cast of characters

(Note from Dani – Katie is one of my dear friends from ACU, and she is a talented writer with an old soul, a sweet spirit and a an almost obsessive love of tea. Enjoy her meditation on new places today as I wander through a new place myself. 🙂 )

So I’m totally jealous of Dani’s rad vacation this week – I love, love, love D.C. and all its amazing sights, and Williamsburg is a swoon-worthy destination for sure. But while part of me sighs with envy, another part is content to be just where I am. For the past two months, my hubs and I have been settling into our new home in Boston. As a couple of Texans who’d only visited Boston once before moving here, we had – and have – a LOT to discover. Just after Jeremiah got the job offer in June, we traveled to Houston for a wedding, and stayed with Jon, my best friend from high school and a voice of wisdom in my life for about 15 years now.

We were weighing the pros and cons of a move, and agonizing over whether to leave Abilene – where we’d met, gone to college, put down deep roots and formed a solid, loving community. Where we’d lived for eight years, where our finances were secure, where we had family. And Jon said something I’ll never forget.

Okay, so I can’t remember the exact wording. But the gist of it was something like this. When weighing major life decisions, he asks himself: Will this decision help me expand the cast of characters in my life? Don’t I want to discover new places and people to add to my story? Is my life complete, just the way it is now? Or will this change (whatever it might be) open up new scenes for me, stretch me and challenge me, and introduce me to people who need to be part of my story – and whose stories I need to be part of?

Something clicked for me as Jon talked about characters and stories, and I knew: Boston was the next exciting chapter in my (and our) story. I loved our life in Abilene, but the truth was, we’d been idling for several months. We felt restless, like it was time to move on – we just didn’t know where yet. We’d had several false starts, but they all came to nothing, and frankly, none of them felt right. Nothing felt right until Boston – and it felt, and feels, like our next great adventure. I’m loving all the things you might expect me to love about Boston: rich history, delicious clam chowder, tons of cultural opportunities, the excitement of exploring a big city.

But I’m also loving getting to know the cast of characters in this chapter of my story. They range from our sweet landlords, an Italian couple in their seventies who live downstairs, to our good friends Abigail and Nate, who moved up here from Abilene just before we did. They include people from half a dozen nations, born-and-raised New Englanders, and transplants like us. And they’re all a part of my story. And now, since I live here, I’m a part of theirs. Vacations are fascinating, it’s true, and even short trips can change your life (one week in London when I was sixteen led to a semester in Oxford and then an entire master’s degree there, for example).

But living in a new place is an entirely different breadth and depth of adventure. I’m thrilled to be writing this chapter of my story in Boston, and I can’t wait to see what – and who – happens next.

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What have I been up to?

Why, getting moss all over the house, of course. (My roommates are groaning. They remember the days of Dani’s art projects.)

When I talked to you last, I announced my intention to write a book. It’s going quite well, thank you, and I’ve been doing a lot of artsy things, I mean, tanning, I mean, really, a lot of writing. Honestly. One of the artsy things that I definitely did not do instead of write was get moss all over the house whilst making this:

WELCOME, dear ones.

You need more detail don’t you. Don’t you worry.

Oh, you want to see more of my glue-gun prowess! Well, luckily for you, my husband has a camera and I know how to point it at things.

Ok, just one more. If you insist.

This was one of the most fun Saturday mornings I’ve ever had (of course, nothing can compare with a Wednesday Wee Hours Moss-Gluing Session which got my college roommates’ everything covered in green moss for weeks). Maybe someday I’ll set up an Etsy site and sell these babies. Everybody’s writing career needs a distraction, right?

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See? I told you our patio looks different. Thanks, bungee-lovin’ husband!

Back when I moved in to our humble abode, we longed for a patio table. Alas and alack, they are all far too much money for a newly-married couple whose Wifely character has embarked on a financially futile venture like teaching horsey lessons and writing miscellaneous observations for a living. So we got by with a friend”s old dining room table, a couple of very decrepit chairs, replaced by some new, free chairs from a kind-hearted volunteer at said Wifey’s non-lucrative employment, and a very ginormous hammock, bequeathed to us by Wifey’s folks, who were also very relieved to not have to deal with said behemoth.

Behold before:

Please note the decrepit chairs on the right-hand side. Note also the ADORABLE yellow cushions which just happen to be my new favorite things. Adam would also like to note that the grill is uncovered, proof-positive that he cooks regularly.

So, anyhoodle. Our patio might be the best part of our house, despite being desperately ramshackle, our poor little ex-dining room table having a sad slouch from all the water that ran off of it this year. But, as Providence would have it, I was sunning myself with Miss Mandy last weekend when she noticed that a friend from church was selling their patio furniture on Facebook. BEAUTIFUL, BIG furniture for $150! I called Adam. She called dibs for us too, just to be sure.

But you know how Facebook can be warm and lovely and full of Birthday wishes for people whom you’ve said Hi to once in the last 5 years? You know also how it can be a passive/aggressive hive of scum and villainy where political opinions rage and you realize you didn’t get invited to something that Everybody Else did? Well. Imagine the latter in a bidding war over a really nice and underpriced patio set. And GUESS WHO WON. *does happy dance*

So, I bring you the homeward flight of our hard-won purchase:

Beverly Hillbillies, y’all. I actually really thought that we would never make it home in our TWO CARS, one of which is, actually, a truck. It was rather monstrous.

We had to stop halfway and adjust for flappage of one of the chairs against Rocky’s cab. Adam, luckily, is adept with tie-downs. I was no help, but just laughed an took pictures with my terrible camera-phone.

Self-Portrait. I’m mostly excited that I have OTTOMANS in my ride. OTTOMANS! FOR OUTSIDE USE! This is getting extravagant, people.

Just in case you needed a close-up of the tie-down work.

Adam’s Dad and Grandad were in the moving business… can you tell? This kind of talent isn’t taught, my friends.

One more. BOW BEFORE THE TIE-DOWN MASTER.

So… I couldn’t help carry up the table. I’m a girl, you know, and not as strong as my Hubs thinks I am. I convinced him to call Rick, who in return for helping us I promised a delectable sandwich. I’m either a great cook or Adam sounds very threatening on the phone, because he agreed.

After making the fellas huff and puff up the stairs, we realized we had to take the table apart to get it through our house. Rick is thrilled.

“No reward is worth this!”

I was pretty sure that we’d have to give up about here. But my Hubs loves a good challenge!

Rick, however, saw himself and the table making our downstairs neighbor’s aquaintance.

When a horse gets worked up or going too fast, you say, “eeeasy” all slow and calm-like. I totally said that to the boys as I took this pic. Multi-tasking, you know.

Rick still has to work for his sandwich.

TA-DA!!!!!!!! This was taken on a cloudy day, but you get the picture. (Ba-dum-ching!) It’s GLORIOUS, is it not?

(As a side-note, I would like to observe that we spent more on this set than an ANY OTHER article of furniture in our house. Told you our patio was awesome.)

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Puke of the Brain, g’night.

It’s late. We had a glorious weekend and I already wish I had more time with my husband, all the time. Rocky is once again in the shop, 160,00 miles is no bueno. We ate pasta and sausage and red wine for dinner, which was delicious and I probably ate too much. My tummy hurts. We sold our first-ever piece of furniture on Craigslist tonight to a nice Indian lady and her “very inventive” husband.  Today, one of my students told me “I LUF OOO” which made my heart burst into a hundred tiny sparkly pieces. I have zits. Again. I want to get a non-t-shirt tan. So far the t-shirt tan is winning. I broke a toenail. We painted and organized all weekend and it was awesome. Pictures soon. We also saw Phirsten. Full story soon. LOST ended. I’m sad about that. Reaction soon. I obviously need more time to write something of more substance than this non-enthralling non-blog.

I love my life. I love my husband. I love my horses. I love my students. I love my sleep. I’m going to bed. Sweet dreams.

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