The Power of Zen ~ the beautiful flourish

In life, it really is the little things that touch us most. The small kindness. The tender caress.

Last year for my birthday, my oldest son sent me a small bouquet of lilies. Beautiful. So, beautiful, in fact, I wanted to see them more than the usual FTD. I took them to my bathroom and put them on my counter in front of my vintage Venetian mirror.

Now, I have the world's smallest bathroom. One and half steps in and you're standing in front of the sink. Half a step to the right ~ toilet. Half a step further ~ shower. Weensy. But, nice.

I tucked my little tussy-mussy of lilies by the goose neck. Wonderful. Fragrant. Elegant. Luxurious.

His present reminded me how much I was missing that tenderness of spirit. I had forgotten to treat myself in a soul-satisfying way. Since then, twice a month, I put a small bouquet together for my bathroom ~ flowers from the store (in the winter months) coupled with variegated greens boxwood, Daphne, etc. from my yard.

This small $5.00 luxury feels generous and optimistic. It's easy to fall into the austerity mind-set so everything feels like a withholding grind; where every outlook looks grim. Fresh flowers are a friendly way to soften that grind. A small expenditure that feels luscious and hopeful.

Soul satisfying.
 

Oh! Baby Bunnies in the Garden.

It's raining in Seattle this morning.

When I was little, we lived on the Mojave Desert. Nearly every day, I'd go stand on the playground tarmac during recess, tilt my head looking up at the cloudless blue sky and say, "When I grow up, I'm going to live some place it rains every day."

I love Seattle.

I love the way it smells when the air is misty with rain. I love the way it feels when the rain falls in big fat drops. I love the way it sounds on the wooden ceiling of my mid-century house. I love my moss-coated garden art. I love the gentle climate that allows even a garden innocent like me to jette and pirouette around the beds.

Spring is a heady time when the 80# of King Alfred daffodils I planted last fall are optimistically peeking out from their winter slumber. When my husband died in 1996, I really needed to do hopeful things. I found that in planting bulbs. Now, going to the nursery is my hopeful fall ritual. Planting bulbs in the fall shows faith in the future. And, when they come up in spring starting with crocus, I feel profoundly happy. It's a simple thing really ~ but utterly lovely. It gives me a glimpse of what it must feel like to be Vita Sackville-West ~ with a lot less experience, fewer staff and smaller grounds. I live in paradise.

This morning when I took my dog, Ramses, out to potty, he was very interested in something close to the base of a large fir tree. He thrust his nose into the ivy and started to paw around. In all the excitement, he dislodged what looked like a bird's nest. On closer inspection ~ a nest of baby bunnies! They looked to be just hours old. Certainly no more than a couple of days ~ naked, eyes tight shut. They didn't appear to be injured though he messed up the nest a bit in his excitement. I found the three that came out when he lifted their upside down cashmere-lined dome, tucked them back in and dragged Ramses away.

I love knowing I have bunnies in my garden.

Sweet.

Spring must be just around the corner.

My Furniture Feels Like it is Nailed to the Floor

Many times when I've met with clients, they tell me they feel stuck. They feel like their furniture is nailed to the floor. They just can't think of any other arrangement. Last week, I met with my best friend and she said the magic words ~ "Isn't there some other way this room can be arranged? I feel like my furniture is nailed to the floor."

We moved everything out and started with a clean slate. This is the perfect project to do with a friend. When you're done, it feels like you've gotten a lot accomplished.

I like the way this little wall turned out. Usually, one puts the console table behind the sofa. It's sort of the classic location. In the "un-nail" process, every piece of furniture is up for grabs. In this case, I moved the settee and placed the vintage Foo-y Lou-y chairs (I love them when they don't take themselves too seriously) upholstered in the spunky graphite cotton check in front of the console table. Putting the small Asian chest between them gave the chairs a table for a glass or small plate. Angling the chairs slightly seems like a more friendly placement. 

The great thing about this arrangement is the combination of textures: large baskets, Asian and contemporary art and porcelain, German etchings coupled with the shades of graphite, cream and gold leaf. It's interesting, approachable, eclectic and the cheeky check and modern handmade porcelain from Page and Thorbeck keeps it from being uptight.

But, the best is ~ the furniture isn't nailed to the floor! Enjoy.

Oh dear! My new home is completely Dead White wallboard!

A while ago, a client of mine moved up to Redmond to be near her children. She brought with her a life-time of wonderful antiques. To her horror, the new downsized home was all the "builder's special-Dead White" painted wallboard. Quelle horreur!

 And, the fireplace? Scary bad.

Rather than repaint the whole place, we decided to concentrate on the fireplace. She wanted a more Old World feel rather than the "Just Out of college" fireplace supplied by the builder. For tile that I turned to Architerra NW for a beautiful solution. Using a combination of their field tile and wonderful trim pieces, we turned to fireplace from "factory ordinary" into a beautiful focal point for her living room.

Often, when we see a lovely old tile job, what we are really responding to is the exquisite trim pieces ~ the crown molding, the ogee edges, the base, the v-cap, the corner moulding. In handmade tile designed by the tile genius at Architerra NW, you get the depth of detail not found in the big box stores and the type of detail that sets the finished project miles above the ordinary.

 

After the tile was installed over the existing fireplace, the change was dramatic. It was a fireplace that suited her French antiques. It made her new place feel like "home."