The Perfect 20th Anniversary

What an inspiring weekend!

My friend, Zen ~ boy genius architect, and I attended the 20th anniversary of one of his projects (for which, I played a very, very, very small part in the design.)

The building is a mixed use structure overlooking Lake Union. It's on an amazing but difficult site, and, wow! what a view.

As I've mentioned before, Zen is a damn genius. Couple that with clients with exquisite taste, fascinating worldview, deep artistic sensibilities and you get brilliance.

Robby is an artist and Janet is a writer. When you talk about people in history you'd like to have dinner with, I say why go back in time? These are people you'd certainly drag a chair to the table for and maybe even bump Napoleon to the kiddie table.

 

The design of the building was inspired by their love of the Coast Salish people: their traditions, customs and language. As we all gathered around for greetings and a toast, Robby spoke in the Lushootseed dialect and Janet translated the welcome. Utterly cool! And, completely dear.

From the lintel over the garage to the shape of the building, everything was fully realized in support of the vision developed by the client and the architect. And, twenty years on, immaculately kept. Sublime!

The day was gorgeous; the project exquisite; the light fare toothsome and beautifully presented; the guests convivial and interesting; the hosts generous. Lovely.

   

Day 45 Everyday Grateful ~

Beautiful weekend

Out and about to Lake Union

Nice!

http://www.mcmanigal-architecture.com/McManigal_Architecture/Home.html
for more pictures of Whaac All All see Portfolio/Residential, Whaac All All Eastlake Mixed Use

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lushootseed_language

Zen & Heidi ~ you know, like Tracy & Hepburn, Bogie & Bacall, Horn & Hardart, Nick & Nora Charles, We Know Each Other But Not in the Biblical Sense, Of Course. We're Pals!

So, I just posted my integral coloured stucco blog and sent a copy to my friend, Zen McManigal. My email went something like this:

-----Original Message-----
From: HBBENEDICT
To: zmcmanigal

Sent: Thu, May 31, 2012 12:25 pm
Subject: from Heidi ~ I continue to wax poetic about you!

http://www.thefairhero.blogspot.com/2012/05/youre-up-larry-crazy-woman-at-counter.html

And Zen responds:

In a message dated 5/31/2012 1:49:08 P.M. Pacific Daylight Time, he writes:

This is so great! Love the title of this one (ah,yes, I've seen that look many times**), great story, beautiful roses adorning the trellis, & I love the French's mustard thing. These just get better & better - & being immortalized in a blog makes me giddy.

Zen

** see, this is why we are so sympatico:

so our picket fence & trellis is badly in need of staining or painting (although I kinda like the faded & uneven patina & exposed wood in places.....people spend a lot of money trying to get that look, you know......& since our carport is full of crap who would notice the picket fence needs paint anyway - but I digress).

So Jill says "we should paint it, where did you get the green stain before?"

I say "Miller Paint I think".

She says "do you remember which green it was?"

I say "it was a custom color".

She says "where did you get the green?"

I say "from a leaf in the garden.....I took a leaf to them & they matched it exactly - don't you remember when I did that? That's why it looked so good with all your plants!"

..........those guys had that look when I gave them the leaf..........hey if other designers and architects can wax poetic in print about colors that match northwest beach rocks, then nobody should raise an eyebrow at us......

Zen
-----Original Message-----
From: HBBENEDICT
To: zmcmanigal < zmcmanigal@aol.com>
Sent: Thu, May 31, 2012 1:57 pm
Subject: Re: from Heidi ~ I continue to wax poetic about you!

Hi Dear ~

I was thinking of sending my post to Salmon Bay but I'm worried they will fire "Larry." Is this where I tell them there is no "Larry"; I made up the name cuz I couldn't remember the guy's name and ditto Ted the stucco guy?

Of course, I'm going to quote you. May I?

I plan to write one about Jill and me and the zoo doo run.

XOXO
H

ah....the zoo do run - a classic tale......I'll be looking forward to reading that.......I was more than too happy to leave that expedition to you two.......

Zen

You're Up, Larry . . . Crazy Woman at the Counter!

When my late husband and I closed our two offices in Seattle and decided to work from home, we added a studio for me and an office for him in our plans.

During our planning phase, my dear friend and boy genius architect, Zenith McManigal, AIA came up with a stunning elevation for our remodel. The addition was going to be stucco. "I'm all for stucco," I said. "We are talking stucco, aren't we? Not that scary Dryvit pretend stucco stuff, right?"

"Yes, real stucco," he said.

"So," sez I, "tell me about cracking. Do I have to worry about an entire wall falling off?"

"No, but it does crack. I want you to take a drive through Magnolia, Queen Anne and Laurelhurst and look at old stucco houses. If you can handle those type of cracks, that's what you can expect."

And, so we did. We decided cracks were atmospheric and romantic. Stucco, it was.

Zen and I had been working on a project together that he designed overlooking Lake Union. So, when he said, let's talk about "integral coloured stucco", I know what he meant.

The cool thing about integral coloured stucco is that colour is in the mix when it is applied to the structure. No painting. The colour is as thick as the surface, so no chipping to reveal a nasty under surface.

What colour? A house Rick had in Seattle had the most wonderful climbing roses growing on either side and heavily festooned over the gate to the pool. I just loved the colour, so we took a cutting with us. The roses start out a deep burnt orange bud (I'm not so red hot on orange) but as the buds opened and fully bloomed, the burnt orange turned to a gentle butter cream ~ sort of a yellow with lots of red in it. Oh dear! Tender, beautiful and unbelievable fragrant.

I'd love a yellow stucco house. Something very friendly, warm and inviting about a yellow house. But, what colour yellow? How about matching the yellow climbing rose?

In my design practice, I'm matched all kinds of things so I wasn't really worried. I hied myself down to Salmon Bay Sand and Gravel in Ballard and walked up to the counter.

"I want an integral coloured stucco," sez I to the nice man behind the counter. He reaches under the counter and pulls out a chart of the colours available.

"Mmmm," sez I. "I looking for something more like this." and I plop the rose onto the counter. His eyebrows fly up to his hairline; he sighs deeply. "Just a second. Let me have you speak with our integral colour expert." He picks up the phone, dials an extension and says, "Larry? You're wanted at the front counter."

As Larry saunters up to exchange places, they exchanges glances and I just know calling him up to the front counter is payback for some internal joke. I show him my rose. Almost as though I can read his mind like a screen crawl on the television ~ "Jesus! Designers! Idiots!" He shows me the colour chart again.

"Well, Larry. None of these will work. I want this soft yellow."

"We can't guarantee an exact match."

"Oh, I know. Close is good. Very close is perfect."

"It will cost extra."

"Oh, I know. I didn't expect you to do this for free. What are we talkin'?"

"Depends on the job, of course. Let's see. Custom colours? Probably $500. But, keep in mind, you can't return it. Can't cancel it. We'll do our best, but you are entirely responsible."

"Great! Let's do it."

Six weeks later, big strong young men descend on my house, put up scaffolding, install all the underlying elements and start applying my custom integral colour stucco.

Whoa! What the hell? Oh! My! God! They are spreading French's Mustard yellow onto my walls. Breathe deeply. Don't get scared!

I stand at the bottom of the scaffold and say, "Ted, I don't want to be one of those hysterical Bellevue housewives, but tell me, my house isn't going to be French's Mustard when you finish, is it?"

He snaps his head around, looks stricken like he's about to throw up and clambers down from the decking. He grabs a piece of gypsum and slathers a layer of the aforementioned stucco mortar onto the surface, goes to his truck and gets out a hairdryer (something you always keep in your truck, right?) and starts drying the stucco sample. Little by little, as the water is dried out of the material, the most wonderful yellow takes the place of French's Mustard.

And, so it was. Salmon Bay Sand and Gravel had matched my roses perfectly! Yes, it is true, my house was French's Mustard for several months while it dried, but little by little we ended up with a friendly integral yellow stucco house.

And, my roses? They have struggled. We planted the start in our 40' perennial border, but there is just not enough light in my yard for roses. Last year, for some unknown reason, I didn't cut my roses back. They now have branches that rest on my pergola.

This morning, I went out early for a meeting. There under the pergola, two rose petals on the limestone. That's weird, I thought and then I looked up. My little start had finally reached its goal ~ the sunny top of the pergola and it was blooming, blooming, blooming.

Day 40 Everyday Grateful ~

Rainy, cool, roses blooming on my pergola!

Lovely.

http://www.sbsg.com/

http://www.mcmanigal-architecture.com

Shopping in London ~ Bermondsey Square Antiques Market

Bermondsey Square Antiques Market may be the most fantastic place to shop ever! Or, at least, in the English-speaking world . . .  

This weekly market has been around since 1855. These are the things to keep in mind:

First, it's a dealers' market. It opens at 5:00am. The vendors start arriving around 4:00am. Get there early! This is the real "you snooze, you lose" market. It closes before 9:00am so shopkeepers can take their newly acquired finds to their shops to sell. Sure, there are the ordinary dust-catching tchotchkes  you'd find anywhere, but there are also tables heaping with Georgian, Victorian and Edwardian antiques.

During my trip, I got up early, heated a cup of yesterday's coffee, hailed a cab and arrived as dealers were setting up. My jaw dropped when I saw a dealer pull milk carton crate after milk carton crate out from under his table and dump crate after crate of sterling silver on to the surface. Yowsa! Fantastic.

You'll find art of all kinds ~ oil paintings, watercolours, sketches, ephemera like sheet music, post cards, unframed etchings, theater tickets and programs, glassware, china, furniture, etc.

If you'd find it in an antique store or second-hand shop, you'll see it first at the Bermondsey Square Antiques Market.

Listen to the voices. Dealers from all over the world cruise the aisles in search of treasure. And, to quote another, "it's a mecca for serious collectors."

Because, as you know, I'm traveling and on a budget, I look for small things; in this case, canister shaped demitasse cups. I love the eclectic look of several different patterns out for coffee or cocoa after dinner. It's fun to see how each is chosen. My friends all have personal favourites they always select.

While it is true, I love Portobello Road antique shopping, there is something very cool about getting up really early, throwing off your jammies, throwing on your clothes, and heading off to shop while it is still dark.

Talk about hidden treasure!

http://www.londontown.com/LondonInformation/Attraction/New_Caledonian_Market/a544/

Day 24 Everyday Grateful ~ Ramses and I are going

for dinner at Barb's.

Misty morning. Sunny afternoon. Thankful.

In Praise of the Classics ~ The Lutyens Bench

There's a scene in the classic 1940 film The Philadelphia Story where Jimmy Stewart and Ruth Hussey alight from their very cool car and approach the front door of the Lord residence. On either side of the entry portico are a pair of Lutyens benches.

Be still my heart!

Several years ago, I read an article about garden design and the writer blasted the use of Lutyens benches as cliche. Ouch.

Bench in the garden of Sissinghurst, designed by Edwin Lutyens

photo by Hans Bernhard

Just who was Lutyens? And, what's so great about his bench?
Sir Edwin Landseer Lutyens was an English architect best known for "imaginatively adapting traditional architectural styles to the requirements of his era." His professional partnership with Gertrude Jekyll celebrated an eclectic mix of formal with informal, rough with smooth, light and dark, order with abundance and, in so doing, redefined the "English Garden." In 1930, working with Vita Sackville-West at Sissinghurst Castle, they transformed the gardens, which are now managed by the National Trust, and inspired generations of gardeners. Their work was approachable, beautiful, interesting. 

Here's my thought: If we look back on the history of architecture and interior design, some designs are so enduring that they are re-imagined by succeeding generations who love them just as much as when they were "new." The Corinthian column, the caryatid, the klismos chair, the French bergere, the Barcelona chair, etc.

I am not taking about counterfeiting a Fendi bag or Louis Vuitton suitcase or handbag. That is, of course, what the death penalty is for. When we embrace the glories of past genius in design and architecture, we don't copy, we pay homage.

In my courtyard, I have a pair of plantation teak Lutyens benches. I like the symmetry of the space. When I tried a couple of wonderful but not matching benches in the space, it made my eyebrow twitch.

Mostly, I like the idea that "just plain folk" can have and enjoy items that at one time only the truly rich could afford. Having beauty around you is very soul satisfying. And, owning a classic like a Lutyens bench, well, it feels somehow very democratic.

http://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/sissinghurst-castle/

Day 13 Everyday Grateful ~ God, it's a gorgeous day.
The birds are so chirpy, they practically drown out any other sound. Happy! 

Happy!

Such a lovely, lovely day.

Just got back from running errands with Ramses.

He likes to hang his head out the window.

Everything is so bright and fresh.

And, I came home to this.

I live in Paradise.

Day 7 Everyday Grateful ~ Seeing my life as a garden ~ blooming.

Brimming with optimism. I am so deeply grateful.

 

In Praise of Brandy in the Library

It's raining in Seattle today. Fancy that! I just got back from taking Ramses out for a walk so he could "leave his card" around the neighborhood. He likes showing the other dogs who the "Big Dog" is. It makes him chuckle. I think it has to do with how high up the tree trunk or fence post he can reach or something.

Walking back to the house, the rain has let up and the sunset sky is the loveliest honey/wheat colour along the horizon. So beautiful.

The perfect weather and time of day to sit in the library, put my feet up and read a book.

I love reading. My mother was an antiquarian bookseller. I learned all the book rules from her: never bend the pages to mark your place (that's what bookmarks are for), never lay it open face down (it breaks its back), never remove the illustrations (100% barbarian action). In general, treat books as the treasures they are. Having been raised by a book zealot, I've never understood books as decoration. I also don't understand when I go to someone's home and there are no books. I think it's kindah weird.

When I was a young designer, I was chatting with a friend about a meeting I had with an iconic Seattle interior designer at a reception for Jack Lenor Larsen. Everything about the reception was breath-taking. The meeting with the Iconic Seattle Interior Designer? Not so much.

I waxed poetic about how important it is for established designers to be cordial to new designers. I guess my friend could tell my feelings got hurt. To cheer me up, he started telling me stories about her. I laughed at the industry tales about the aforementioned I*S*I*D; how she terrorized clients, vendors and architects, alike. My friend said his favourite was the time the I*S*I*D designed utterly beautiful bookcases that cost the earth for a very affluent client. The I*S*I*D was famous for bowling people over; sort of like "the light switch stays, everything else goes" with a sweep of the hand. Anyway, the very expensive custom cabinet maker had just finished the installation when the aforementioned I*S*I*D swanned into the room.

"How do you like it," she asked (not really caring about the answer.)

"Ehem, well," they stammered. "They really are beautiful, but . . . ah, well, Jean, we, ah, well, we really don't read."

"Stay right there. I'll be right back," she said. Never one to be deterred, the I*S*I*D immediately got into her car and drove directly to Goodwill and bought enough books by the pound to fill a library. In fact, that library . . .  

God, we laughed our hair off!

Every time I go into a person's real library, I'm reminded of the glory of books, the importance of useless knowledge, the usefulness of important knowledge, and, the importance of the written word. Every day we see the truth of the old adage ~ "The pen is mightier than the sword." Even in the age of twitter and linkedin, when we read about what is happening around the world in real time, we see how the strength of ideas binds people together.

I'm going to celebrate. Hot cocoa and brandy in the library tonight. Like shining the silver and ironing the linen napkins, one of the other things that keeps civilization together.

The Pressure Washer ~ Friends with Benefits

It was a lovely day in Seattle yesterday. Mild sunny. Practically spring.

Those of us in the Pacific Northwest are known to rush outside on the first sunny day and lose our minds as we "frolic and detour" out the front door (not in the legal sense, mind you, but in the "it's been raining since October and we've got to get out of the house and put our hands in dirt" sense.) It's true, I've made the mistake of planting basil in April or hurrying to get my starts in the ground. Yup, we're overly enthusiastic about the prospect of warmer days ahead.

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote to my friend Zen about how ghastly my blog photos looked when I really looked at them. I believe I said ~ Did you like all the moss and black slime covering my pots, bench, and limestone? I like to think it's atmospheric and not a filthy disgusting mess.

He responded with his very generous characterization ~ I prefer to think of it as having a rich yet bohemian-like earthiness........much like the patina on the bronze bells of the Cathedral of Notre Dame, or the rich sediment at the bottom of a bottle of Chateau Lafite Rothschild.....I'm thinking a '61........

I decided rich yet Bohemian-like earthiness had to go. Here's the rub: my late husband was Mr. Tool and, because he was a fighter pilot, he was also Mr. Redundant Systems. Unfortunately, after his death, one-by-one all of his small engine equipment died as well. The worst was the pressure washer.

Pressure washing the stone around my house is a completely contemplative thing. Utterly Zen. Struggling with a dead pressure washer is entirely not Zen.

Surprise! To the rescue! My friend Karen and her husband Ron arrived yesterday morning via a big honking truck with the most amazing pressure washer I've ever seen.









We all got to work. Pressure washing the stone and the benches, scrubbing the black slime off the pots, planting the pots with optimistic bright pansies and primroses, cleaning out the scruffy dead stragglers in my little kitchen garden and getting it ready for planting basil and tomatoes in May, raking up the mulch in the perennial beds, filling the bags with yard waste ready for pick-up on Monday morning, scrubbing off the awning.

Heaven!

We worked all afternoon. Then, we made a veggie pizza, opened a bottle of wine and basked in our success.

After they left, I went out and walked around the yard. I love the look of "cared for." Cared for doesn't have to be expensive or chichi. It really is often small.

 

I slept the Sleep of the Righteous, the Contented. Of course, this morning, I can hardly walk, but, that is another story.

The Perils of a Prix Fixes Wedding

This is a blog post that when I look back on it in a couple of years, I will die of embarrassment. It's a cautionary tale. Here are the facts: I have a really, really beautiful home. The grounds are interesting and chock full of pots heaping with flowers. The house is on a nice quiet lane and set back from the road. It's lovely.

Over the years, several friends and family members have held weddings and special occasion events here. All beautiful. All successful.

During the financial crisis and economic downturn (or, as those of us in construction say ~ the depression), I decided to use all my skills and make every aspect of my life a "profit center." Uck, buzz words! Loathe them! I put them all in the category of thoroughly stupid phrases that are designed to make you seem smart, but, generally make you sound like an idiot, i.e., "mission statement," "way finding," "on message," "at the end of the day," "impact," "in my thoughts and prayers," etc. But, I digress . . .

So, I posted my ad on our local Craigslist:

Don't let Wall Street put the damper on your wedding plans. What you need, you cutie pies you, is a beautiful, romantic wedding for not much money. Impossible you say? Come with me. I found just the place.

Columns on the Park is a deluxe Bellevue B&B with an Italian sensibility. Columns has put together an amazing wedding package for your small weddings ~ say around 20 people. Your hostess is an award winning interior designer so, yes, she's got the china, silver and the touch to make everything beautiful for your special day. And, best of all, her studio is in a Tuscan Villa. And, I'm not kidding.

Sure you could have your wedding in chambers, but, for $####, you get a wedding in a drop dead gorgeous garden, a keepsake garter, dozens of photos of your wedding, a true wedding cake, a complimentary bottle of Italian champagne, two keepsake champagne flutes, the perfect music, and a coffee, tea, punch reception with china plates and linen napkins.

Oh, the adventures that begin with "Yes." Did I mention the garden in the spring? Book now!

What happened, you might ask? Was it successful? Were you able to turn your skills into a "profit center?" Well, yes. . . and, no.

Having worked my way through college working retail, nothing much surprises me about working with the public. First, there were the calls wanting to know if they could have 50 people. What about 75? Sheesh, what part of 20ish wasn't clear? Those calls were followed by "was there a room for the bridal party to dress?" My first thought was "what part of 'in chambers' sounded like dressing rooms were involved?" Could they bring their hairdresser? Nail artist? Could they come the night before to set-up?

Yes, there are speakers in the garden. Yes, I have lovely wedding music. Sure, I will put your wedding mix tape on. No, I can't time it to sync up with the instant you finish your vows. 

Yes, I provide three cake flavours. Yellow, white and chocolate. No, they are not gluten-free. No, there is no "tasting."

Mostly, it went well. But, occasionally, when my life reads like a story problem, things happened. And, not good things.

Like the time . . .

I'd had back-to-back weddings and there was a lot of clean-up, tidy-up, prepare for the second wedding to do. I'd finished one cake, cleaned up the house, pressure washed the stone, blew off the driveway, dead headed the roses, emptied the trash, washed the napkins, ironed the napkins, started the dishwasher, started the second cake, set the timer and, just closed my eyes for a second . . . and sat straight up in bed!

Oh, my God! What time is it?

Oh no! It's 2:30AM. The cake's been in the oven since 9:30.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

It's burned all the way down. No chance of scraping off the charred edges. It's dead! Utterly, absolutely dead!

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Get in the car. Speed to 24 hour grocery store. What the hell? What are all those police cars speeding past me in the parking lot with lights and sirens blazing? What are all those police officers doing leaping out of their cars with their guns drawn?

Shit! Shit! Shit!

My Safeway is being robbed! Oh, brother! My life really is a complete story problem! Nightmare!

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Find another 24 hour store ~ right the hell now. Thank God, I live in the suburbs. All the grocery stores can't be being robbed in the middle of the night.

And, home again by 5:00AM. Cake cooling on the counter by 6:30AM. Sigh.

I really must buy a lottery ticket.

Baby Bunnies Redux

One of my dearest friends, Zenith McManigal, AIA, is not only a architectural boy genius but also the funniest man alive. So, I sent him the link to the tale of the bunnies in my back yard and got this:

In a message dated 3/14/2012 6:23:48 P.M. Pacific Daylight Time, Zen writes:

Cute!! Dear! You have such a Northwest Trek over there! All we have are raccoons & stupid coyotes that make us fear for the safety of our little Toy Fox Terrier Tula (Finley the border collie is big enough to fend for herself, as is Ramses).

Z

From Heidi ~ Sent: Wed, Mar 14, 2012 6:35 pm:

Hi Dear ~

Well, I did have a moments fright when I thought they were baby rats! Not that I would have done anything other than what I did but I did shudder. Northwest Trek, indeed. Last summer, I saw a couple (that's two, mind you) coyotes walking side-by-side bold as brass up the street chatting about life in the suburbs. Not a care in the world.

Did you like all the moss and black slime covering my pots, bench, and limestone in my photos? I like to think it's atmospheric and not a filthy disgusting mess. Which reminds me of the old Dennis the Menace cartoon. Dennis' parents on either side of the restaurant table with Dennis in the middle looking out of the panel. The caption ~ "I don't call it romantic. I call it dark." One person's atmospheric is another's filthy disgusting mess. Go figure.

H

From Zen ~ 3/14/2012 7:04:51 P.M. Pacific Daylight Time:

I prefer to think of it as having a rich yet bohemian-like earthiness........much like the patina on the bronze bells of the Cathedral of Notre Dame, or the rich sediment at the bottom of a bottle of Chateau Lafite Rothschild.....I'm thinking a '61........

Z