I'm in here and he's in there

It's Friday night and the kids are tucked in and Scott's in the kitchen cleaning up after our typical Friday night extravaganza (that includes bottles of wine and lots of cheese, bread, fruits + fancy meats).

I'm in here, in our bedroom with our internetal computery machines and he's in the kitchen with the sink.

And the dish. Es.

And he's got some song cranked to keep him company.

For clean up. And all.

From the kitchen I hear fingers snapping.

Snapping.

Like, as in 80's Molly Ringwald-the Breakfast Club dancing.

Snapping.

And kicking.

and head bobbing.





So, I'm in here and he's in there.

Picnic Perfect

Two items from our Swedish friends at IKEA that will make any picnic perfect:

Sommar picnic tray ($9.99)
and blanket ($29.99).



We tested these out recently at our favorite Wednesday night happening, The Brookline Summer Outdoor Concert series. They were both a hit and super-handy. The blanket's lined with some water-proof like material on one side, cheapo fleece on the other. And the tray just happens to fit a (camouflaged) bottle of wine, couple of cheeses, bread and snacks perfectly.

Not only can you sit comfortably and listen to Beatles covers while your kids whirl dervishly about, you can also look rather stylish with your new equipment.

??!!

At what point does loud laughing and giggling overheard from your children go from delightful to positively toe-curling and annoying?

Pleasurable Providence

Providence, RI: Happens to be New England's second-largest city (to Boston), and recently has found itself known as a renaissance city. Once regarded, even by its own residents, as an awkward stepchild of greater Boston (50 mi to the north), Providence has morphed from an area that empties out at the end of a workday to a clean, modern, cultural, and gastronomical hub.

With Brown University, RISD, and Johnson & Wales in the center of the of the city, Providence has every reason to pay a visit.

And "pay" a visit, I did. Providence has the Seekonk River, which flows past the city into Narragansett Bay. Typical of many New England waterfront towns and cities, there are many dead mills and factories along the shoreline. With a little luck, Google Maps, and some determination, I happened upon a terrificly charming old miller's cottage just down the road from Brown University.



Within these brick walls lies all sorts of retail wonder and goodness.

A short list, but here's what I found:

Tord Boontje, Marimekko, Fornasetti, John Derian, Lum, Kisim, Margaret O’Leary, Catherine Andre, Biya, Johnny Was, Yoshi, Jonathan Adler, Antica Farmacista, Rober et Gallet, Votivo, Red Flower, Bauer Pottery, Santa Maria Novella, Marika Charles, Tade, Cote Bastide, Resail Bags, Rogues Gallery, Studiko Rundholz, Agraria, Bajra, Kevin O’Bried, Lilla P., Nuno, Epice, Gamut, L’Artisan Parfumeur, Katie Mawson, Philip Crangi, Rebekah Brooks, Jill Platner, Wallace and Sewall, Jane Diaz, Elizabeth W., Fracas, Chiliwich, Cynthia Ashby, Neisha Crosland, Georgina Von Etzdordf, Meg Cohen, Miguel Ases, Beth Orduna, Guy Wolff, Gorky Gonzales, Littala, Chan Luu, Babette, Majestic, Clu, Kerry Cassill, Virginia Johnson, Matta NY, Melissa Joy Manning, Shana Lee…….

And I left with a couple of cheap cotton Indian kurtas (the pictures blow, apologies):

and some fanciful jewels.


The miller's cottage goes by the name of Simple Pleasures. And it's worth a visit.

Summer Reading

Look what arrived in the mail yesterday! This sweet, little, pocket guide to all things fun and celebratory.

I'm not sure why we got this, either some American Express gig or Food & Wine gig or maybe a joint gig. Double gig. Twofer. Gig gig.

Yeah, so a little freebie present in the mail that just made my day.

With this, we now have three cocktail reference books, F&W's Cocktails 2008, Mr. Boston Official Bartender and Party Guide, and Field Guide to Cocktails.

It's our 'libationarybrary'.

Just a quick rundown on these three reference books -and they are reference books, right? Maybe not found in the Resources section of your library or something you'd want to footnote....but they offer up loads of helpful info., and history.





Even for the old school, traditional types I'm gonna have to say this is way too staid. First published in 1935, it's last copyright is 1984. I think Orwell would have even found it tedious.

It also includes cheesy-glossy advertisements for average liquor.

For the common-denominator; decent. For the creative; not so good.













And then there's the Field Guide to Cocktails. I love this book. Here is where we discovered the recipe to the fabled Moscow Mule and here is where we might find many a drunken night. It reminds me of what a Peterson's Guide might produce if asked to create a guide on par-tays. With the descriptions, how-to's and wherefores, this is just an awesome book.

I highly recommend this. The perfect go-to for what one might serve in the middle of February when there is nothing goin' on but a fire in the fireplace and parlor games.


And then finally, my newest bedside reading:

What I love about this (not only was it apparently gratis) is that it is clearly written for the cocktail enthusiast. With each drink highlighted with it's commencement and history.

I would say that perhaps the purpose of the book may be to document bar ideologies - maybe we should recognize the dominance of classically-styled drinks as a sign that a more sophisticated approach to cocktails is becoming more mainstream. Oh heavens.

Features include:

• over 150 recipes from some of the coolest bars and restaurants in the country,
• incredible photography featuring gorgeous glassware, and the designer,
  
• the names and addresses of bars, clubs and restaurants in major cities across the country, making it a great traveler's companion,
• a directory of some of the best liquor stores across the country,
• a "cocktail clinic" section covering the tools and techniques of the professional bartender,
• alcohol free "mocktails," and,
  
• recipes for loads of delicious appetizers and cocktails accompaniments.

So, a toast to the cocktail, summer or otherwise. May you shine in all your glory - written, celebrated, and consumed.

Cheers!

If you could go anywhere for the day, where would you go?

I love to play this game. No rules really, other than you can't have any responsibilities or ties or interferences with the thought of spending 24 hours in an unadulterated fun or desired location. For me, sometimes it's a visit to my old swimming pool or neighborhood or house in San Mateo. But right now? This very minute? If I could shut my eyes, squeeze them tight and I-Dream-of-Jeannie myself somewhere, it would be:




Bodrum, Turkey. On the Aegean Coast. Went there with Scott for our honeymoon and I'd go back for a day in a heartbeat.

Second to that, I would have to say:



Narragansett Town Beach. With a Del's.

So, if you could anywhere (and you can't say 'crazy'), where would you go for the day?

Dad's Day - one for John B. Hall

My mom and dad, Jones Beach, NY, 1961


Dad, me at nearly 3 yrs., my mom, and a very new Colby, Columbus, OH - 1966

Once, when I was in 6th grade, the topic of fire drills came up at school. Topics like how your family should prepare for a fire, what precautions are taken, and if your family had one of those new, fangled smoke detectors on your ceiling somewhere were discussed.

Upon hearing this, my dad thought it would be a great idea if we practiced a fire drill as a family. Sure, it was a slow day in Hutchinson, KS, not much else going on, "so let's all pretend that it's the middle of the night and I'll be the fire that tries to come into your room".

My brother and I thought that this would be fun, hilarious, may even involve quickly fashioning a rope out of my bedsheets to get me safely out of my second-story bedroom window. "Yeah, dad, you be the fire and Colby and I will just lie on our beds, pretending to be asleep and wait".

Done.

So. I'm on my bed. *Sleeping*.

Suddenly, I hear a grumble. I hear a very low voice, saying repeatedly, "I'm the fire".

"I'm the fire" just outside my bedroom door.

"I'm the fire" as my door slowly opens.

"I'm the fire" creeping into my bedroom. This big, large, somewhat hairy, *fire*, is hunching over towards me. Walking, hunkering over towards my bed.

And it keeps repeating, "I'm the fire".

I can't move. I'm terrified.

I.am.seriously.petrified.with.fear. This walking, hunched over fire-man is going to get me.

And my 12 year old self breaks down into tears because my thespian of a dad has so convinced me that he's a walking-man-of-fire, I simply cannot move an inch.

So ends our family fire drill.

The Hall family, Hutchinson, KS, 1976 (or thereabouts).

Dad, on his head, at Jones Beach, NY - 1961

Sometimes I miss my dad.

My dad died nearly 24 years ago. I was 20. My brother was 17. And my dad was 47. He died suddenly, as in it was totally unexpected.

But Father's Day isn't really a day I think or pine for my dad. I actually miss my dad more on holidays, on his birthday-March 2nd, whenever I'm in the kitchen preparing some intense, untried dish, and especially when I think my kids need more of a 'Hall' infusion in the their lives.

I think of him whenever we're decorating the Christmas tree, on Easter, when I see Egg's Benedict on a menu or when I see a well-marbleized piece of beef. And I think of him whenever I'm in the ocean, body-surfing or skipping stones with my kids.

See, my dad was a force. A big, bon vivant power of a force. Such a force that he left a bit of a vacuum in my family. Growing up, he was the super glue. He understood and practiced family obligation. He was in frequent touch with his siblings, cousins, aunts and uncles. And Saturday nights were the nights that were spent together as a family. Even through my Junior High years.... if we weren't watching the NBC line-up of Mary Tyler Moore, Bob Newhart and the Carole Burnett Show we were playing games of Masterpiece, Hearts, or Dictionary - in the family room, with the orange shag carpet and black pleather couch.

And my dad was loud. My dad whistled- a lot. My dad loved pranks and loved to sneak up on me and my brother. He loved food. He loved celebrating. He loved music. He loved marching bands. He loved college football.

He loved Dewar's on the rocks. He loved to sail. He loved the earth and soil and the poetry and simplicity of farms. He loved Monty Python. He loved chocolate-covered toffee. He loved entertaining and sharing and giving. He firmly believed in whole notion of 'the more, the merrier'.

And he loved just being with his family.

We were living in Overland Park, KS-a suburb of Kansas City. My brother and I were just returning to school, the days around my dad's death. I was starting my Junior year and Colby was starting his Freshman year, both at the University of Kansas. He died Sept. 2, 1984. It was the Sunday of Labor Day weekend.

I think his death was such a crazy shock to me that it wasn't until 5 or more years after his death that I got some help and took the opportunity to really sit and feel his lose and absence. And I know that I will always feel it. Just not as much as times goes on.

Overall, though, I believe that my life took a dramatic turn when my dad died. I finished college, I moved to the East coast, I became totally independent and did very well for myself. And I think because my dad died I was able to live the life I've always wanted. I live in the city. I live near the ocean. I married this awesome guy from Rhode Island who loves to travel and explore and shares my curiosity and wanderlust. And we raised two curious, urban kids that have seen more and done more than either of us have done at their age.

I think the direction my life has taken is really in honor of my dad, to some extent.

Dad with a scruffy beard, taken when we all had the Hong Kong flu in '68

It's a terrible idea of this trade-off but I believe it to be true.

John Benson Hall
March 2, 1937 - September 2, 1984

I think one of my favorite things about being a mom is that it's a pretty sure bet that just after you've returned from a nice pedicure and find yourself with a beautiful pair of feet your kid will step on your toes with soccer cleats.

I love that.

Super Super Powers

I was recently talking with a friend about what super powers one might want to have in day-to-day life and what super powers some people already seem to possess as they conduct themselves throughout the day. Here's just a random list of super powers that I've witnessed and what I wish existed, either by myself or others.




EXISTING SUPER POWERS

Ability to Withstand Freezing Water Temperatures Super Power
I think Colby, my son, has this super power whereby he has no feeling of ice-cold water. His lips don't turn blue, he never shivers, yet he's able to frolic and surf in 50° for hours on end.

Zombie Super Power
Both of my kids will become mute, deaf, zombie-like creatures after a good 30 minutes of television. They could be inches away from some freaky flaming-red haired Bozo the Clown with tambourines and cymbals strapped to his legs and they'd never notice a thing.

Sonar-like Hearing Coupled with Amazing Smell Super Power
We can be sitting in the middle of a loud soccer game and my daughter, Maia, will stop dead in her tracks, tilt her head every so slightly and hear the ice cream truck from a good mile away. She can also smell chocolate from at least 50 feet away.

Creative Tenacious Super Power
Begging is not allowed in our house. The minute someone begs all bets are off. And that's understood. Clearly. What's amazing is this ability that one or both kids have to finding begging alternatives. Either through notes, signs, clipped pictures, sandwich boards, etc. they will let it be known that there is something of great interest that they'd like to own or have.

Multi-tasking Super Power
This is mine, all mine. And it's one I'm most proud. I can feed, bathe, clean, tidy, fix, email, spin plates, juggle, hula-hoop, jig, and hurky all at the same time. It's really quite awe inspiring. Unfortunately, I'm the only one that knows that this skill is really a super power.



SUPER POWER WISH LIST

Sun screened Skin Super Power
I'd give this to my husband Scott and my son right away. Never would they singe, never would their skin redden or blister in the sun. Instead, they would just casually freckle and maintain their wonderful Irish pallor.

Sleeping Super Power
Both kids could really use this, especially when the sun isn't setting until 8 or 8:30pm at night and similarly when the sun is rising at 5:00am in the morning. Just sleep, sleep, sleep, 10 to 12 hours a day, without fail.

Playing Tag-Chase-Any-game-a-kid-wanted-without-getting-bored Super Power
Now how great would that be? You play and every one's happy. And tired. And then they sleep.

Patience Super Power
Can you imagine how great that would be? I think many Buddhists have this already. Waiting in line, waiting for the subway, waiting for a mom to finish her conversation with a friend.....this could possibly be an all time best super power.

Lovey Howell on Sugar Beets Super Power
While I may have the super power and ability to multi-task I don' t have the speed that Lovey did when she downed some of those nuclear-grown sugar beets on Gilligan's Island. Man, she was wicked fast. What a time saver, no?

and I walked home with a pitcher of Sangria

Yesterday, being Thursday-or Superlousyday as I would prefer to call it, was a bad day. I had two demonic kids that ignored every word I had to say, and a consistent wet, rainy, dreary chill and gray sky that seemed perpetually stuck in that dark-close-to-dusk time. On top of that, it was a stressy-but totally unfulfilled day at work.

There was a hovering gloom that would simply not.go.away.

Did I mention that it was a bad day?

But at the end of the day...the end of the day say around 7pm when the kids were coming down from their bad high I left the apartment and happened into pod in the village.

And I hung out with some friends and I chatted and I forgot that I was a mom of ill-behaved kids and I laughed and I joked...

and I walked home with a pitcher of Sangria.



and all was suddenly right with the world.

i (heart) pod

Brookline Village has all sorts of sweet little shops and restaurants that appear to be humming along, seemingly unaware of the threat of any economic woe.

Situated just down Washington Street maybe a block from the center of Brookline Village (two blocks from our home) is my favorite place to buy gifts, gaze upon beautiful displays, hang and chat with the locals, and pet the co-owner/dog, Tulip.

pod
313 Washington Street
Brookline, MA

Owner Julie, canine Tulip and fellow pod staff, Meighan and Mara have created really not a store but a salon.
A place where you might like to pull up a chair, chat about the latest HBO series or political kerfuffle.

But pod is so much more than that. It's a fabulous boutique that has an amazing collection of the most unique gifts, housewares, and apparel one can find in the general Boston area.

To quote a recent article in apartmenttherapy that featured pod and owner Julie:

"pod style is a simple, cohesive mix of unpredictable, modern and vintage, and she supports up-and-coming designers too. It feels like every piece in the store was carefully selected, the way we do in our homes."





Julie has such an eye for beauty in so many different things. One might find a bucket of polished stones, dried sea urchins, or a glass jar for a fill-your-own sachet of dried lavender.

It's the simple and sublime. All very real and natural.






Chilewich, Heath ceramics, Hable Construction, Kathleen Lewis candles and body creams, In Fiore body balms, and CB perfumes might be discovered among the shelving on the first floor, just next to an exhausted Tulip. (She's really tired.)











And on the second floor, one could possibly find goods from Kerry Cassill, John Robshaw, 8.15 August Fifteenth, Loomstate Organics, Stewart+Brown, Christina Lehr, and dosa to name a few.












I stopped in today -just happens to be right on my way to the kids' school- and found Julie and Meighan knee deep in a just-received shipment of Utility Canvas.

In preparation for an upcoming Utility Canvas trunk show, they were anxious to get the goods organized.










Thursday, June 5 from 5-8pm pod will be hosting an opening reception, featuring the art of Shannon Rankin as well as a Utility Canvas trunk show.

"In search of connections among geography, anatomy and botany, she combines the visual elements of maps, anatomical illustrations and natural forms to explore themes of travel, healing and time." from http://creativemapping.blogspot.com

Discovered by Meighan O'Toole., the artwork of Shanon Rankin is a combination of several media, combining texture, watercolor and embroidery.

Besides finding Shannon's work at pod you can find additional work on her site and etsy.com


I stopped by at pod today ready to just hang and chat and I left with a new Utility Canvas dress. Something perfect for opening reception or summertime cocktails in an Adirondack chair.

'Gansett Town Beach

Looks cold, doesn't it?



Narragansett Beach, RI.



It's our favorite beach in New England.



Best surf, best tides, best Del's.

Water is usually clear.



Clean. And salty.



We drove down to 'Gansett yesterday. Gansett-that's what the uber-cool surfers and locals call it.



Air temperature was around 80°.



Water temperature was around 51°.....



but in the surf it was probably more like 55°.



A balmy, bath-watery, 55°



Too cold for really any normal person to even walk in...


And when we did walk in, we could really only laugh when the surf would hit our feet,



and then our feet would go instantly numb.



We would try.




We being myself, Scott and Maia.



Try so hard to go in to that water....



it looked so inviting...



so tantalizing with that clear, emerald green color...




roaring surf just beckoning any brave soul to join the fun.



But wetsuits we don't own. Just our hearty flesh.



And Colby, with the heartiest flesh of all was in hog heaven.




Totally oblivious to the ice-cold waters.





My little freak of a surfer dude.