The STUFF Sisters

Creative Gifts

I received this care package in the mail last week.

A gift of creativity is always appreciated.

It was unexpected. It brought me joy. It reminded me why people love getting gifts of art and creativity. Even a co-owner of a store, like me, dedicated to the mission of sharing creativity with the world, needs a reminder once in a while. The happiness it is spreading is immeasurable.

I had re-posted on Facebook an article about a recent study that found that coloring is good for adults. You can read about it here at the Huffington Post. Julie Cates, an accomplished artist and friend, had responded. And, I believe, that was where the seed for this deeply appreciated gift was planted.

Since my original post I have come across another post about coloring books intended for adults. Again, it made me happy to know that coloring, this seemingly “for children only” hobby, has many benefits. You can find out about the newly published coloring book here, coloring book for adults.

So, it turns out coloring is good for people of all ages. And, I for one, will be coloring more often and well into my years. Join me.

Around The World

My friend went to Africa and I got these photos. Works for me. No jet lag.

I remember as a child going to friends’ houses – and one teacher’s house – to look at photos of trips taken to far away places. Sitting on the sofa, the carpet or a chair I was always enthralled with their stories, memories and images. These were usually very casual affairs planned at the spur of the moment. There were never too many images for me to take in. I remember going to the home of a friend of my great aunt Eunice to watch their slide show of a recent trip to Europe. The husband had served in World War II and although he did not want to show his wife the Europe he had seen, he had been keen to go back and see Europe with her. The photos were so vibrant and bold. I still love slides for their crispness,

I have enjoyed the immediacy of Facebook and the photo albums people post. When my friend posted these photos, it’s possible she was still standing in the Senegalese surf.

That said, I miss the slide shows and the impromptu photo get-togethers of my past. It is a goal of mine this year to make my Dad pull out my grandmother’s slide reels for a “memory making” night with his children and grandchildren. My sisters and I made our grandmother show them to us at least once a year when we visited. She stored these treasures in the cabinets hidden in the side tables in her living room. I knew at a young age that they must be important if they weren’t relegated to the attic or basement. I can’t wait for my Dad’s stories to mingle with the stories she told.

If you’re looking for me that night, I’ll be the little girl sitting on the itchy wool carpet soaking it all in. And I’ll bet my toe-headed blonde sister will be by my side with wide eyes and open ears.

p.s. My friend, Brenda, is allowing me to post these to Pinterest. You will find them there, and the only trouble for me will be which board to tack them to. I doubt I stop at just one.

Friendships That Bloom

There has not really been one part of growing older that has been bad for me. What I have liked the most is building friendships with people older than me. These friendships bloom after time has passed, if you’re lucky.

There has not really been one part of growing older that has been bad for me. I am still waiting for the grey hair because I’ve dreamed of it for years. I firmly believe that my monthly facials will soften the deep skin lines, all of which I have earned with a life well lived.

What I have liked the most is building friendships with people older than me. People I first knew because they were parents of high school friends. Teachers I had throughout school who now school me on the really important things. These friendships bloom after time has passed, if you’re lucky.

One such woman recently regaled me with her knowledge of plants – she owned a landscaping company for years – when she caught me day dreaming at the potted cyclamen in the grocery store. After the long New Years hugs we exchanged, she asked if I was considering the plant.

Geranium in my kitchen, not a cyclamen at the store.

She is a reader of my blogs and knows that I am not particularly good with indoor plants. She has a faith in my green thumb that I do not harbor. I told her I really was mostly intrigued and in love with the color of the blooms. I think I might have mentioned that I would only kill it. “No you won’t. These plants can take a lot.”

I then took a moment to tell her about the orchid I recently received from my husband who was assured that “orchids are easy and you can’t really harm them” by the florist. Within two weeks, it was holding brown, crunchy blooms and now lives at my mother’s house.

My friend listened with her ears and then smiled with her eyes before saying, “Orchids are hard.”

Totally made my day, and she garnered another hug with that comment.

Sentimental me took her comment to mean a bit more. Later that day, I moved kitchen furniture around to allow the geraniums more southern light. They are the only plants that I bring inside…and only because of the color of their blooms. Well, that and their willingness to not give up on me and my green thumb. Sounds like a friend of mine.

p.s. I wrote previously about these amazing geraniums. Right here. I’ve also spent time thinking about plants and possible interventions. Here’s more.

The Mother Lode

Our son returns Monday from a three week trip to China. Since he was small, I have jumped upon his times away from home as perfect chances for me to tidy up his things. A few days ago, I hit the motherlode.

Our son returns today from a three week trip to China. He loves to travel, and this trip, with his aunts, cousins and uncles, has been no different. We have Skyped with him three times, but only two really count due to a rural location for him and a bad Internet during one session. (It was like talking to Neil Armstrong on the moon!) He has sent a few emails from his aunt’s computer, but mostly it has been radio silence from him.

His smiles on the phone screen have been radiant as he shares stories and jokes. Pixelated conversations are hard, and when he tried to show us photographs on his camera through the computer call, it was all blurry.

Time is flying by for this kid, our only child. His last two years of high school start in a month, he got his first “real” job this summer, he now plans his own volunteering, he is learning to drive, and three weeks of travel away from us had him smiling on Skype two days ago.

Since he was small, I have jumped upon his times away from home as perfect chances for me to tidy up his things. He does a pretty good job of keeping his things in order, but the crevices, containers and dump bins need the occasional scrubbing.

A few days ago, I hit the mother lode. In the “Potential To Make The Mom Cry” category, this find was in the Top Five. Squirreled way in the bottom of a drawer were his business cards. The business cards he made for himself when he must have been five years old.

I remember the day he came home from visiting my mother and had the paint samples in his tiny hands. They had been to Home Depot, and he had scored a few freebies in the paint department. I remember remarking about them and asking what he was going to do with them – and why there were so many. I probably sprinkled in a little bit of “waste” and “these things cost money,” and then we moved on. I never saw them again after that discussion.

In my mind’s eye, I can see him in his little denim overalls and bright T-shirt reaching for the ones he liked best. Taking a moment to choose correctly. Possibly being limited by what he could reach. Maybe asking for help. He is still a child that loves all colors, and I can imagine this whole process was magical.

I took pictures of each of the cards today, and, when I loaded them onto the computer, I stopped to look at them all. To mourn the passing of his little script forced from pudgy hands. To grieve the little bit of tongue he stuck out past his lips while accomplishing difficult tasks. What struck me deeply was how, on each card, he played with the graphic design. I noticed how each card is different while the copy is almost the same. Initials vs. full name? Three initials or four? The battle was most likely epic with his tongue taking most of the punishment.

To this mom, the discovery in my own home was perfect. Just what I needed to remind me that, since he was born, he has been moving away from us. He has been moving towards new adventures. New places. New people.

And on this day, with this collection of evidence, I realized he was moving toward a career even at five years old. He even took the time to make business cards.

p.s. A few years ago I cleaned a closet in his room while he was away. Click here to see what happened.

Not A Green Thumb

I do not have a green thumb. I’m pretty sure I don’t want to grow one either. I have watched my mother for years grow great things and enjoy it. I was raised helping her – alongside my sisters and father – make things bloom and prosper. I can also remember a killer breakout from the poison ivy infestation we attempted to quash at one of my childhood homes. I grew up with lovely surroundings, and I currently keep a lovely yard, but it is not labor intensive. We planted things 20 years ago when we moved in that have only flourished under our huge trees – vinca, hosta, lily of the valley, turf fescue.

But I digress. Today, in my own yard, these sweet babies were waiting when I came home from an early meeting. These glorious bulbs that my husband and I planted long before our son was in our world were coming to life. Long ago, we got a mixed bulk bag of crocus bulbs from somewhere. Probably the hardware store. And, on a weekend when my grandparents were in town, we planted them. I turned to my Grandma, my mother’s mom, and asked if she had any pointers for planting. “Yes. Plant them deep and where you’d like a little surprise.”

So we did. Some went in the front yard in the grassy part. Some went in a side bed that follows the driveway. They bloom every year and the come up in batches. A synchronized dance. The yellow ones are fearless and have been known to poke up through snow. Deep purple and bright purple will follow within a few weeks and the whole show ends with white. This can last for a month.

I am surprised every time.

p.s. If you desire to read more about my abundant gardening skills, click here.

Moving Inside

Just two or three days ago, I moved the geraniums from their roost outdoors to their winter home indoors. I never thought I would be one of those people who harbor plants indoors, but I can’t break myself of this color.

I can’t imagine why.

They spent the winter with us indoors last year and brightened the days. Especially the days I spent in the kitchen at the table near them. Slippers on. Magazines at the ready. Child and husband still sleeping. The light flooded in from the south and made the pinks pinker. Or maybe that was just my mood adjusting.

These photos were taken in June before the summer battled them into not blooming much until late August. Both of us tired and fatigued, I watered them and waited. They gave me a grand fall, and I look forward to a bright winter.

If you have a summer favorite you bring indoors, I’d love to hea

In a few of these anecdotes, the telescope saw limited initial use and then it was simply incorporated into the home’s décor—gathering dust in a corner. It became obvious to me that what the family could have benefited from more would have been a spotting scope. And, in all of the cases, the spotting scope wasn’t even on the purchase radar. By default, everyone thinks the telescope is the best way to explore the heavens and it truly is, but the spotting scope presents a great and versatile alternative. Let’s look at the buying choices between spotting scopes and telescopes so that, if you are in the market for yourself, the family, or a space-exploring enthusiastic youngster, you can get something that everyone will enjoy and something from which all will enjoy a great deal of use.

Before we dive in: if you arrived here knowing you want a telescope, but are unsure what type to get, click on over to our telescope buying guide and enjoy the view!

TL;DR
Spotting scopes offer unmatched versatility and durability for primarily terrestrial viewing (think birding) and some astronomical viewing, here you can get the best spotting scope under 500. Telescopes give you a superior view of the heavens, but are less portable, less durable, and slightly more difficult to use than a spotting scope.

Portability
While there are certainly small and portable telescopes, the spotting scope is relatively lightweight and designed for use in the field. Many come with “C-thru” cases (or they are available separately) that protect the scope’s body from wear and scratches while allowing you to use the scope, try the best spotting scope under 300. Larger telescopes can be boxed up and taken out into a dark sky area—often the big telescopes will be transported in two or three separate boxes—they are definitely not designed around portability in the same way a spotting scope is designed.

r about it.

Instagram #1

I am totally hooked on Instagram. I am a visual person. I guess that is pretty obvious to anyone who has been to STUFF or has ever met me. So, I believe Instagram was made for…

I am totally hooked on Instagram. I am a visual person. I guess that is pretty obvious to anyone who has been to STUFF or has ever met me. So, I believe Instagram was made for ME. And all my visual friends…which is pretty much everyone I know.

Earlier today I was experiencing the Friday blahs, and I thought, “I don’t feel like working. I just want to sit around and play with Instagram.” Here is where the big fat idea bulb went off….

Idea Sculpture at STUFF commissioned work by Lori Buntin. — Commissioned art piece by Lori Buntin for STUFF.

This is my first Instagram image blog. I have this ingenius plan to post them anytime I feel like being inspired at my own store. Enjoy.

April Wallace little painting at STUFF. — April Wallace little painting.

Amy Meya Sculpture taken with Instagram by Casey Simmons — Amy Meya Sculpture

Cabin Vase Collection at STUFF — Cabin Vase Collection

Dash & Albert Rug Samples at STUFF — Dash & Albert rug samples.

Turquoise Bedroom

I tore this page from the February issue of Spaces magazine. This room is too formal for my lifestyle and taste, but that color. Ohhhhhhh, that saturated color.

I think the turquoise matted framed art is brilliant. And, if you look closely the whole wall is framed in wood and acts like a giant second headboard. Again, brilliant. Because that incredible color would become cloying if the whole room was saturated. To me it is the perfect amount of infused color.

On The Issue of Blue

A year ago, a close friend said to me, “Yes. I know about the blue and you.” I retorted with a general, “What are you talking about?” or “What do you mean?” She said, “I read the blog.”

Yes. It’s somewhat true about me and “the blue”. But lately I have been struggling with the desire to actually paint our bedoom a deep, rich blue. Not chalky or grey. Blue. Deep blue.

I attended a show at The Nelson-Atkins museum a few months ago, and the rooms were painted a rich, deep blue with hints of green in it. It inspired me so much that I actually called the offices and asked for the number/maker of said hue. I have since misplaced it because I realized it really wasn’t for me.

My husband isn’t crazy about this idea. He’s challenged me with the knowledge that our bedroom isn’t that large. He’s troubled me with the realization that blue walls are one thing, but what about the large amount of trim that is inherent in our 100-year-old home? And, most importantly, he wonders if I have thought about what our art will look like on blue, since it has always resided on white. He isn’t against the idea; he just seems to feel it’s important to needle me with details that clearly need to be considered before diving in.

The last and most imporant decision that must be considered is that we commissioned an outstanding local artist – my sister Casey – to paint our bedroom windows so that we would never need curtains again. These windows are the one detail I have yet to work around. I would never want to take away from their amazing strength by painting the walls a powerful – yet soothing – hue.

These are my issues with blue right now. Previous musings can be found here and here.

p.s. The top three image are from the website of Anthony Barratta. I have mentioned on my blog before that I adore his work and the work of his retired partner, William Diamond. When my ship comes in, his phone will ring.

The bottom photo is of our bedroom windows. They are stunning at night as well.

Showcase Your Art

I like interior walls filled with art. I just rearranged the art in my own home. I created new collections that reflect some of the styles in this one-page article.

I really like the simplicity of the limited color palette in this next photo, but it is safe to say I don’t collect art in one color palette; it is quite the opposite, I must admit.

I will try and take some photos in my home soon.

Note: These pages are from Elle Decor magazine, March 2010.