What did we do before YouTube?

Sometimes I use this blog to reflect on the great issues of the day, the unique challenges of being human in this complex modern era. And sometimes I use it to post silly videos featuring cats.

Mix match fine dining set for the impoverished (kinda)

Image from Martha Stewart, Gold-edge eggcup and butter dish, Legle Limoges. "Constance" bread-and-butter plate (below eggcup), sugar bowl, and coffeepot, Bernardaud. "Illusion" teacup, saucer, and dessert plate in endive, Haviland. "Derby Panel Green" bread-and-butter plate (with knife), dinner plate, and vegetable dish (with flowers), Royal Crown Derby. "Olivia" tumbler, Juliska. "Fairfax" silverware, Gorham.

Many of us these days cannot afford the $400-500 price tag for a gorgeous dinnerware set.

I so want to have pretty plates too, but because I don't have affordability, I only can gaze and lust.

But I have been inspired to a different, yet as enchanting end!



Two gorgeous plates here, two fine bowls there and suddenly you have a mixy-matchy-but-still-an-expensive-set look that is cohesive!

Now let's see. I have my beloved white Heritage White by Johnson Bros set gathered through the years.

Image from Replacements

I've been on the constant search for a contrasting pattern in pinks or yellows to liven things up. Any suggestions?

I've also found this gorgeous photo below:

Image from Style Me Pretty

How sweet is this?

I think I'll go hunt for two pieces of this and two of that, just because two pieces of good china, I should be able to afford.

Oooh! I just found this image and had to share! I thought I'd leave you with this extremely striking dinner setting. I love the green tablecloth and the vibrant oranges!

Image via Rex and Regina

According to interior designer Martha Angus, the tablecloth is actually remnants of de Gournay wallpaper, draped over a classic Parsons table.

I have to get meself some of that verdant green tablecloth!

Update (a few days after preparing this blogpost):

Oh Hang On! Today I found in my forgotten stash of fabric this gorgeous verdant green silk fabric remnant. Not large enough for a tablecloth, it makes for a striking table runner! But I allowed myself an hour of play with my china, trying to decide on shape and pattern of the contrasting china I'm hunting for:

Sorry about the un-ironed fabric, this was just play after all!

Instead of a setting for tea after dinner, I tried preparing a setting for coffee instead, with one of my favourite black and white polkadot coffee sets. I maintained my Johnson Bros saucer underneath it all just to maintain the octagon shape.



I had another two patterns to try out... both were pretty!





I think of all the options available to me, I preferred the Royal Albert Serena above the others.



But what of just coffee and cake?



Or coffee and ice cream or apple and rhubarb crumble?



I had fun playing and know at least, I want a round contrasting plate for my setting. I also know I definitely want to source some pretty dark green fabric.

Do you have photos of your pretty fine china to share?

My Thanksgiving, in statistics

Number of relatives that flew in from the West Coast: 5
Number of happy hours my brother and I hit before seeing our relatives: 2
Number of different pies baked: 4


Number of fights I had with my mom: 2
Number of fights she remembers us having: 1
Number of lines of bad dialogue in "Burlesque": 4, 387

Number of plastic surgery procedures Cher admits to having: 3
Number of Broadway shows seen: 3
Number of Broadway shows seen that were directed by Alex Timbers: 2
Number of drunk/high adults in the audience at the Peewee Herman show: 497
Number of glasses of wine consumed: more than 5 and less than 50
Number of times the woman next to me on the train to New York got up to pee: 3
Number of times I was asked about my love life: CRANBERRY SAUCE
Number of years my grandmother has been awesome: 92
Number of sticks of butter in my mom's stuffing: unknown


Number of regrettable drunken texts sent: 6
Number of tablespoons of Johnny Walker Black added to my chocolate pecan pie recipe: 4
Number of minutes I waited in line at Starbucks on Thursday morning: 25
Number of children with nicer winter coats than me spotted in aforementioned line: 3

Number of pairs of socks borrowed from my ex-boyfriend (at whose apartment I was staying) because I forgot to pack socks: 2 (sorry, Noah)
Number of times the word "number" appears in the blog post: 19!

And one bonus, non-numerical piece of data: for the best story that may or may not be true and/or grossly exaggerated told by a family member, it's a tie between

-- my aunt describing the time she met Cher and Cher appeared to be wearing a bedspread
-- my mom talking about seeing Stevie Wonder open for the Rolling Stones and falling off the stage

Ah, the holidays. The fun is just beginning.

Gobble, gobble

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I have already engaged in one angry/tearful discussion with a family member about politics, so for others who may be in similar positions, I recommend this helpful article from Slate about navigating those tricky topics.

The turkey: equal parts regal and ridiculous. All parts delicious!

Halle Berry's ex-gorgeous tiny palace

Halle Berry bought this small jewel in Beverly Hills in 2001. She recently sold it, but what a romantic Mediterranean-style place! Small by Hollywood standards, it boasts only 2 bedrooms and 2 baths but oh so beautifully and simply put together.

According to the sale listing (Already sold), Ms Berry's pied-à-terre is a "one-of-a-kind rustic & private Old-World Mediterranean graced by magnificent gardens, fountains, al fresco dining & seating areas, fire pit and sumptuous stone spa in a verdant canyon setting. The vibe is majestic, yet casual with vaulted heavy wood-beamed ceilings, wide-planked wood floors, detailed custom-made ironwork, stone-carved fireplaces, a dramatic staircase, banks of French doors/windows & a master suite tub carved out of stone."

Enjoy!

Front entrance

Inside

And out the back door:

Images from Hooked on Houses

Yelping about blogging, I mean, blogging about Yelping

I remember very clearly when I first heard about Yelp, back when it was first launching just as a site for New Yorkers to write reviews about local businesses*. It makes sense that Yelp originated there -- New Yorkers have high standards and love to complain loudly and publicly. I was at a party in Hell's Kitchen and my friend Sam was telling me about his new job with a brand new website.

"It's called Yelp," he said, "and it's a site where once you set up an account, you can review restaurants and stuff. Anyone can write the reviews and the businesses can't take them down, even if they're bad."

"Wow, that sounds really cool," I said. "I'll have to check it out." In my head, I thought it sounded retarded. I was sure it would never take off -- I mean, who wants to read reviews written by ignorant people?

Fast forward to the present, in which I am now not only a Yelp member, but a member of the Elite Squad. I applied and was granted Elite status in the summer of 2009; basically, in exchange for Yelping frequently (and wittily), I get invited to some special events with free food and booze.

And speaking of witty, I thought I'd share one of my favorite Yelp reviews ever, written by my friend, Jon. Jon lives in Chicago and had a "conflict" with a tailoring business. Here is his review of Without a Trace Weavers:

A small hole in one of my favorite sweaters precipitated my search for a good reweaver, and Chicago Magazine recommended Without a Trace, with locations on the Gold Coast and in Chicago's North Park neighborhood. I dropped my sweater off at the Gold Coast location and was told they would be in contact with me when the repairs were completed. Fast forward several weeks later, and my sweater was ready for pick up.

Without a Trace's strange hours (open only until 4:30pm) did not make it easy for me to return to collect my garment, as I had recently begun work in the suburbs and it had become difficult for me to be downtown before they close. I did not pick up my garment until a few weeks after the repairs were completed, and only after several increasingly frantic and accusatory phone calls from the business. For the benefit (and entertainment) of all Yelpers, here is an excerpted portion of the most psychotic voice message:

"I don't know why you're refusing just to come pick up your sweater. . . um, this isn't right. . . I don't understand why you'd bring something in and not pick it up or return any calls. . . I just. . . it's something. . ."

I had never before received as bizarre or manic a voicemail before. Not from any ex after a bad breakup, or from any crazy member of my family. Now, this voice message may lead you to believe that I'm one of those sick people who gets off on dropping off garments for dry cleaning, alterations, or repairs. and then leaving them there forever sticking the company with the bill. Ha, the joke is on you, reweaving company! Reality? A too-long turnaround time and inconvenient hours of operations made it difficult to pick up my sweater, only one of several that I own and that provide me warmth and comfort on a regular basis.

When I returned to pick up my garment, I asked the nice young man working at the time if it was he that left me the aforementioned message. I told him that it was the single most psychotic, unprofessional voicemail that I had ever received. Without hesitation, the employee told me that it must have been the owner, Michael. This leads me to believe that I am not the first customer to suffer the indignity of dealing with the business's proprietor.

If you're looking for a healthy dose of abuse along with your garment repair, might I suggest Without a Trace? If you happen to be reading this, Michael, might I suggest for you some time on the couch with a good psychotherapist? It's not terribly professional to work through your obviously complex emotional issues on your customers' answering machines!

Sometimes when you write a negative review, the business will respond and apologize/offer an incentive to give them another try. Usually, if this happens, it will happen within a month or so of the review being posted. I, however, recently received a message from Sandella's, a place I reviewed over a year ago. Here's my review and the subsequent message -- I suggest doing a dramatic reading to get the full effect:

Neither tasty nor healthy, Sandella's has little to recommend it. My ham, spinach and swiss "panini" was greasy and measly (seriously, like one slice of ham) and lacking the promised "mango habanero salsa." Also, it wasn't really a panini -- kind of like a sad, deflated burrito. I will not be back.

13 months later.....

Hello Katie. I know you had a bad experience at my restaurant and I appreciate the feedback. The reason why I have taken so long to write back is we have done an extensive menu change and have worked hard over the past year to make the food experience much better.

Since your review and taking into consideration some of your valid points we have hired a chef and worked with her for several months and redesigned the menu. I took the spinach and swiss product off the menu and now offer a choice of Iggy's foccacia along with our flatbread as a panini option. I too agree that what we were serving before was not good. We have also brought in brown rice, avocado and several other ingredients to update our products. We also offer a make your own option for rice bowls, grilled flatbread pizzas and the salads. You can also feel free to design your own panini if you so desire. I understand that you may not wish to give us another try and even worse we could disappoint you a second time but I assure you that we have tried to be a better establishment and many people do like what we are doing now.

So I appreciate the valid review and I hope there are no hard feelings. If you ever do give us a try again I really hope we do a better job this time around. We have really, really put a lot of effort into making things better. However we still are a moderate food establishment that tries to serve a decent product as quickly as possible so there are no miracles here!
Thank you for the input. Sincerely, Nick M.

I am amused and touched by Nick M's response. He really took my comments to heart, it seems, but acknowledges the challenges of trying to serve "a decent product" in what's basically a fast-food venue. I may just give Sandella's another go.

*Apparently, Yelp actually started in San Francisco. New York was added soon after.

My new tacklehug doll

My husband runs the coffee cart at the local farmers market held here once a month and because I'm the official baby sitter, I get to spend hours there. I do my rounds around the market and believe me it's hard to keep my pennies in my pocket.

But this time I got to spend AUD$35 on Milly.

Milly's my new Tacklehug doll. I don't normally like dolls. I find them creepy, particularly the real-looking-dolls. But this doll was charming, un-scary-whatsoever (and that's saying a lot!) and utterly enchanting.

Meet Milly:

Let's be clear. Milly's not for play. It's for me. To grace my bed.

I did a Google search for Tacklehug and I found her blog!!

So now I can happily share with you her ETSY SHOP!!! No tacklehug dolls yet but I can start pestering her!

Meet Milayna and Sydney:

Image taken from tacklehug's blog

Esp since my daughter loves my Milly, I might have to buy her one of her own! At only $35, it's a great Christmas present for your loved ones! Contact Tacklehug via her Etsy store... I know she doesn't have her dolls on her Etsy store, but trust me, I met three or four of her other creations!

The ghazal: my white whale?

So this week I'm posting an example of a form that I have attempted, but failed miserably at completing: the ghazal, pronounced either "huzzle" or "guzzle," depending on whom you ask. For those of you familiar with my work, you know I love form and don't shy away from a challenge. But the ghazal makes all other forms --pantoums, sonnets, even villanelles-- look like nursery school Dr. Seuss bullshit.

The ghazal is very old, with the earliest examples in Arabic verse dating back to the 6th century. It's also incredibly difficult -- there is a refrain repeated at the end of every other line, as well as internal rhyme. And as if that wasn't hard enough, the poet is also supposed to "name" him or herself in the last couplet. Because of the formal requirements, ghazals rarely are narrative poems; the repetition makes it almost impossible to move any kind of story forward. Many operate associatively through images or rhetorical word play.

This ghazal takes some liberties with the rules -- the internal rhyme is inconsistent -- but it's still, I think, largely successful.

The Ghazal of What Hurt
by Peter Cole

Pain froze you, for years—and fear—leaving scars.
But now, as though miraculously, it seems, here you are

walking easily across the ground, and into town
as though you were floating on air, which in part you are,

or riding a wave of what feels like the world's good will—
though helped along by something foreign and older than you are

and yet much younger too, inside you, and so palpable
an X-ray, you're sure, would show it, within the body you are,

not all that far beneath the skin, and even in
some bones. Making you wonder: Are you what you are—

with all that isn't actually you having flowed
through and settled in you, and made you what you are?

The pain was never replaced, nor was it quite erased.
It's memory now—so you know just how lucky you are.

You didn't always. Were you then? And where's the fear?
Inside your words, like an engine? The car you are?!

Face it, friend, you most exist when you're driven
away, or on—by forms and forces greater than you are. 

Bedroom: sleeping or....?

Aren't these bedrooms gorgeous??













Room. Space. Big windows. Bathtub in space. Big windows. Big wardrobes. Big space. Big chairs. Big ottoman. Big desk. Big secretaire. Big windows.

But.

Recently I've come to realise that because my husband is the "bedroom is only for sleeping and I can only sleep in total darkness and silence", that our bedrooms from now on will always only be for sleeping.

So really all we need is this:



(But I prefer to have plenty of room around the bed to make the bed!)

Maybe a tad more space .... just this!



Not TV watching or reading or writing... all the things I love doing in bed!

Oh well. I give those things up for him... for me, I'll need a room just for dressing up and a large walk-in closet/change room.

In Memoriam: Allston Cafe

Friends, it is with great sadness that I announce the closing of one of my favorite neighborhood haunts: The Allston Cafe.

Since moving to Boston a little over two years ago, I have frequented the Allston Cafe (formerly known as Herrell's, when it was under different ownership). On Yelp, I gave it a rare five-star review. It was really a unique place, beloved by Allstonians, and very popular. On weekends, it was often impossible to get a seat and the wait for their amazing breakfast sandwiches was sometimes epic, but always worth it. I always overheard people discussing their art shows, band tours, and latest tattoos. The wifi was free and the coffee was strong. And they served breakfast all day, every day. What genius created the Tiny Mighty, the eggless breakfast sandwich for only $2.14? What giant among men (or women) figured out that grape jelly would take the Meg Muffin (egg, cheese, sausage) to the next level?

Apparently, Allston Cafe was forced to close due to a dramatic rent increase to the tune of $1700, or roughly 794 Tiny Mightys. I recorded my final visit this past Saturday; I hope you enjoy my photographic tribute.