If You'll Be My Dixie Chicken, I'll Be Your Tennessee Lamb

and we can walk together, down in Dixieland

The cuz is arriving on Tuesday and we will begin our journey South! We are so excited!!

Vallen has me totally hooked on Roadfood.com. Deary me. Look at the places I have mapped out for possible stops!

And food? The South's best.

When we were growing up, the summers were spent equally between my mom's family in Georgia and my father's family in Texas. I remember being really young and going to my grandma Rosie's apartment where she would cook up a "mess" of food for all of us. Well, you know Southerners, Grannies especially. She would just throw it all onto a plate for us kids, not asking what we liked and didn't like--just a big ol' heap of food. I'm sure we all turned white with horror; and my mom would look at us with her gentle brown eyes and whisper "You have to eat it." I guess we all did because I don't remember any incidents of dad woopin' us. lol. Now, it all looks good to me, just a "mess of good eats" on a plate! Larapin, I say go 'head, slap it on!

Val, this is for you!

Cheers to all the memories of Little Feat at the Warner Theatre in DC. These boys were like our home-town band.

xo
ro

Sausage Biscuits

Sausage biscuits always brings to mind memories growing up. When we would visit my grandma Rosie in Texas each summer, she would always cook up a feast of food. None of which us kids would eat. Well, we didn't want to, anyway. She was already in her 80s, still living by herself and just a jolly ol' soul of a woman. We would all love visiting with her in her little apartment because she was just a hoot. Her food however was not that which kids would eat. We dreaded that part of the visit. Being a Southerner, there was always food. It was always on the stove, sitting there for Lord knows how long. When she would put it on a plate for you, she would slap it all together. Kids don't like things all mixed up in a goop. My mom would whisper to us "You have to eat it" in that gentle voice of hers. I guess we would. I have no memories of eating that "good junk" as grandma would call it. However, when it came time for us to pack the car up and head back North, she would always make us a big batch of sausage biscuits and wrap each one in a napkin and put them in a bucket of some sort, normally a big gallon margarine bucket. (Who buys a gallon of margarine?) To this day, I can think of nothing tasting as good as one of those sausage biscuits on the road when my father would refuse to stop because "we were making good time." Thank you grandma for saving our little bellies so many times.

Then there's Aunt Mary, one of my mom's sisters in Georgia. Every time we would visit, up until several years ago when she was in her 90s and still living on her own, she would cook up a country breakfast each and every morning. Now, Aunt Mary was not one to get up early--suppose I get the gene from that side of the family--but she would when we were there. No matter how many of us bombarded her house, she would cook a country breakfast fit for a king and his castle. The entire castle. If it were just me and the kids, it would still be the same amount at which time we all would stuff ourselves in honor of all the good food she had cooked. I would do the same as my mom before me, "You have to eat it." My voice, probably not so gentle. I remember her in the kitchen cooking that sausage up. Mom would try and help and she was always behind her (as still the big sister 70 years later) showing mom how to squish all the grease out of the sausage. There isn't anything close to waking up at Aunt Mary's smelling the sausage and biscuits cooking. Again, such wonderful memories.

The kid and I were doing a little grocery shopping yesterday and came upon this luscious looking bulk breakfast sausage. The kid and nanna love sausage; so how could I resist? I cooked it up this morning, remembering Aunt Mary's delicious breakfasts and Grandma Rosie's sweet send offs. It was a nice way to start the day with so many memorable moments with loved ones who are no longer with us. I miss having aunts and uncles and grandmothers to look up to.

Guess I'm one of the elders now. Cringe. How scary is that?

Friday's Favorite Corner

Today's corner is the guest bedroom. Since it's still in order from our last visitors, I can show it to you. This room always goes through so many transformations. I find something pretty and add it to my collection here. It is safe from gangly teenage boys and most of the time, I keep the door shut to keep the animals out. It's supposed to be "animal dander free" for those allergic to all our babies. At least I try to keep them out. As you can see, Ms. Bev likes to get in on all the Friday photo shoots--thinks she's a model, I guess.

Most of the furniture in here is from our Art Deco phase. The hub and my first date was antique shopping and we soon discovered we both loved art deco. This was in the mid 80s before deco got really hot, so everything was to be had at a bargain. (Of course, over the years, I got tired of it in our bedroom and had to switch out to a lighter wood there.) anyway, all of this was purchased before the hub and I were married. I kept all of it at my (as opposed to his) apartment since it was apparent that we would be together for the rest of our lives and it didn't really matter where it went--so I got it (get it?). It is so funny, because the pieces were purchased at different shops and shows around DC at totally different times--yet it looks to be a matching set, or pretty near close. What an exciting time in our lives.

(The hope chest has a wonderful story to it. I don't even know if the hub and I were engaged; but the inlaws had come to DC to visit us. We were driving around and ended up driving by Eastern Market. I spotted some pieces of deco and told the hub to pull over, I was going to just jump out and take a quick look. They could drive around the block. Of course, it was so cheap, I purchased it; and we came back later that day to pick it up. (This may have been my very first--now infamous--speed shopping round.) Oh to be young DINKs again {double income, no kids}. haha!)

The darling side chair by the dresser was given to me by my dear friend Kelly and her mother. This is a piece from her grandmother's set. I had just moved into my first apartment and had absolutely nothing but an old antique table and two chairs--not even a bed! They were so sweet to give it to me. The fabric on the chair was one I purchased from a French shop in DC at the time to wrap my thank you gifts for my wedding attendants (all two--Kelly and the hub's sister Ann). I wonder if they ever got it off, because I glued it! haha. Should have tacked it with thread, but I was young and naive then. I just wanted it to be pretty. And it was. I saved a yard for prosperity and have used it for various projects over the years.

My larger watercolors are from a favorite Ukrainian artist, Arkady Orekhov (not to be confused with Slim Shady Orekhov--the musician, hehe). I don't remember who stumbled upon him first, but the hub surprised me one Christmas when we were first starting out (quite a reach then). It is one of my all-time favorite surprise gifts from him. The first one he bought for me was the one on the left with the cablecar. I still admire it with all my heart to this day. It touches me somehow. The hub's grandmother came from the Ukraine and he remembers her saying the closest town to her growing up was Lvov. These are the things that make pieces so special to me. I believe most of his work is capturing Lvov. The studio the hub purchased them from is no longer there in Old Town Alexandria. I stayed in touch with the owner for a while, a sweet elderly Polish woman; but unfortunately I have lost touch with her. Her gallery was so amazing.

(If artwork comes with a write up, I tape it to the back of the work--or else I would lose it!)

The little French watercolors were purchased in Paris on our honeymoon. You know, the street artists on the Left Bank that sell their work? Yea yea, those are the ones. I've had these in so many places throughout our houses, it's amazing. They are so sweet and special.

And this little collection is my brother Jim's fault. He started me on these little perfume funnels years ago when he gave me several for my birthday. I've been hooked ever since. Think I have enough now, so I don't go looking for them. If they come and seek me out in a shop, well, that's another story. He also gave me the pretty little silver nail file at the bottom. It pulls open with the file inside. Love it!

The lace above the bed belonged to my grandmother. I have had it on tables over the years, but it was beginning to wear; so I thought I better put it up somewhere in order to keep it from unraveling. I didn't want to put it away because it is so pretty, and this is what I finally came up with.

I absolutely love doing these posts. It is so important that my kids one day know why I have all this stuff and where it all came from. This way, it is all written down for them. You know boys, as I've said before, couldn't care less.

The hub was in Texas for a day and he comes home tonight! Yahoo (or yeeehaw). Can't wait to see him. Why is it when they're here, it's so taken for granted but once they leave town, you miss them like crazy? I probably don't tell him enough.