Weekend away

Hello friends. It has been far too long since I've posted anything. For that I do apologize. This weekend beau and I are in Florida. We spent two nights at his mom's cozy condo in Delray Beach and then drove over to Bradenton to visit with some Icelandic friends who are in town for a visit. What fun. We are staying at a very cute bed and breakfast called The Londoner. There will be a wedding on the lawn this afternoon. (No mom, not ours...) but I was thinking it might be fun to crash it... Maybe we can just creep on it from the lovely porch. I was going to insert some photos, bit the iPad and Blogger don't communicate as well as I had hoped. So, until I can get back to my computer you're simply stuck with words. Last week beau's dad and his sweet dog Lucy visited, so expect some fun posts about what we did. Needless to say it has been a busy few weeks. Until I can return with photos,have a wonderful weekend!

Pretty in Pink

This weekend I walked the Susan G. Komen 5k. I "raced" with 5973 officially timed racers. Among them were hundreds (thousands?) of breast cancer survivors. I was part of a team (Knights for a Cure--woot woot). We had 36 team members. Three of them are cancer survivors and one is currently undergoing treatment. That's 11% of my team for those of you who might be trying to do the math. Does that seem like a lot to you? It does me.

The Oceanfront was awash in pink. I saw things like this:

And lots of these:

I also saw tears. And hope. Strength. And grief.

It was a powerful morning.

The most powerful moment came about a mile into the 5k when we slowed to try to find a friend of my friend Bree. They worked together at Bree's old school. She was in her second (yes, second) battle with breast cancer when Bree found her lump at the frighteningly young age of 32. When they saw each other there were tears. It had been years since she had last done a Komen race. (Back when Bree started doing them it was a "try to wear a pink shirt and join us for a walk" event. These days there are swag bags and Panera even has special bagels!)

The event brings back pretty powerful emotions. Bree made her put on her survivor shirt and walk with us.

I got to finish the walk with her when Bree's adorable twins saw the beach at the half way turn and bolted for the sand (they're two and a half--its OK). We chatted. Mostly about normal, non-cancer related stuff while surrounded by a sea of pink. We finished together. I took her picture at the finish and we ran into another of her friends/team member who is also a survivor. (But obviously not with my camera because I am a terrible blogger...sigh.)

October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. It is a time for everything pink. I love me some pink. But I tend to stay away from it in October. That seems counter-intuitive, I know. Personally I wonder how much of the profits of pink products (helllooooo alliteration!)  is actually going towards cancer research. I'm cynical and think that everyone is trying to make a buck. (Kudos to my high school's football team for wearing pink at homecoming on Friday, though!! That was a first ever for them and I was really happy to see it.)

October is about more than donning pink. It is time to celebrate the successes in the battles won. It is also a time to remember and mourn those who did not survive the battle.

Whatever you do for breast cancer awareness in October (or any of the other 11 months), do it proudly and please, please, do it for a purpose and not just because everyone else is doing it.

How big is Komen in your area? Did you do the Race for the Cure?

Local Honey

I'm a pretty healthy gal. Well, OK, let me clarify. I don't get sick all that often. Saying I'm healthy might imply that I eat well and exercise regularly and, well, that ain't true. So, I don't get sick all that often. In fact, I used to never get sick. Then I moved to Virginia. I discovered allergies for the first time ever. I'm not exactly sure how that works, but now twice a year, like clockwork, I get sick. My throat is sore, my nose drippy and, most exciting of all, I get a raspy deep voice that fades in and out and inexplicably squeaks from time to time.

Apparently everyone (and I mean EVERYONE) develops allergies when they move to Virginia. Lucky me, I moved to Virginia. And, even though I insisted I don't suffer from allergies, I do in Virginia.

(Sketch of someone who looks disturbingly like me from here.)

Whoo hoo. My friend Bree insists that the way to beat allergies is to consume local honey. Today when I stopped to talk to her at work she noticed my deep and sometimes squeaky voice and simply said "local honey" to me.

We've had the discussion before. "Amy, I swear, eat local honey and you won't get sick. Look at me. I have a spoon full every day."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I don't like honey."

"But you like that sinus headache, huh?"

Touche, friend, touche.

(image from Pinterest.)

As I always tell Bree, I don't like honey. I NEVER eat it. Ever. I don't sweeten my tea with it. I don't add it to anything that one adds honey to. Apparently I should, though. Discovery channel says this about local honey.

(Image from here via Pinterest.)

Another friend from work actually has hives at her home. Her husband is a beekeeper. She is the perfect source of local honey.

(Image from here via Pinterest.)

So my dear readers, I come to you for advice. What can I do to fool myself into thinking I like honey? Do you have any sneaky ways to help me consume it without really tasting it? Are you guys dealing with allergies?

House vs. Home

Beau and I have been shacking up for about ten months. Why then, are there no curtains hung and no photos on the wall? I hadn't ever really thought about it until I went to a co-worker's housewarming on Friday. He'd owned the house since June and lived in it since July. Aside from it being mere blocks from the beach--which gives it its own kind of beauty and ability to invoke jealousy--the impeccable decor made me feel a little behind.

If I was any good at this blogging I would have had my camera at the ready at his house warming so I could be showing you photos of his abode. Alas, you are stuck reading and not seeing the inspiration. Perhaps one day I will ask John if I can share his uber cute home with my readers.

Enough about my failures as a blogger and back to my decorating failures. I do want to defend myself a bit. John is that guy whose classroom is perfectly decorated where mine looks as if a tornado blew through. He is stylish and hopes to decorate in his retirement. I hope to crawl into a dark hole and write in my retirement. My vision of this hole has papers askew and tea mugs scattered about. So, we are two very different people.

That doesn't mean that beau and I can't have curtains on the windows and walls that are thoughtfully decorated. I mean, I have curtains. I have art and photos. And, not to give the wrong impression, some of that art is on the walls and our house is rather cute and charming. It just doesn't live up to its potential.

John's cozy home as inspiration to buckle down and turn our house into less of a house and more of a home.

Here are some inspiration homes from Pinterest and fun blogs:

Inspiration walls from here, an unidentifiable catalogue, here, unknown and here via Pinterest)

(The last three walls are from here because Sherry at Young House Love is the home designer I wish I could be.)

Now, off to hang curtains (because I finally got around to buying and hanging curtain rods) and dig out the boxes of frames, sconces and other decorative elements I've had hidden away for the past ten months. I'll keep you posted on my adventures in making our house more of a home.

Thanks, John. You inspired me to do some of the decorating I've been putting off for quite a while. My classroom is a whole different story; that's been tornado-devastation-zone for the past ten years and probably isn't going to change much in the next ten. 

What makes a house more homey to you?

50 Years of being CRAZY About Tiffany's

Beau had a birthday this week. I would be remiss (and a bad person) if I put the following birthday wishes before him. So, happy birthday, beau. Stop being out of town when I want to shower you with gifts and affection...

Now, on to our regularly scheduled post-

This year my always-in-the-top-five-list-of-movies (referenced here) turns fifty. Don't worry, she looks great. Besides, age is just a silly number. Breakfast at Tiffany's turns 50 this year. How fun is that? I've already mentioned that I love it. Cyndi even commented about it. Never mind that she said it was a bit dull. She clearly has no idea what she's talking about. It did win two Academy Awards and was nominated for three others.

Perhaps she hasn't heard "Moon River" recently.

Or how about that kiss. Can you believe this kiss? In the rain. Through tears.

Now that's a kiss. The kiss might be 50 years old, but it would make me weak in the knees still today.

(Kiss found here.)

OK, OK, you're right, there are kisses in most movies. I'll give you that. Romantic comedies and kisses go together like peas and carrots. So predictable.

But what about the complete unpredictability of the rest of the movie? Mickey Rooney doing such an appallingly un-politically correct Mr. Yunioshi is shocking and silly (and acknowledged to be in poor taste). Aside from that, there is the party scene, and don't forget my favorite scene that I think would make for a really fun day. Holly Golightly and Paul Varjak spend the day alternating activities that the other had never done. The scene closes with the two stealing masks from a dime store.

(From here.)

Back in the day when Breakfast at Tiffany's was still a spring chicken, The New York Times reviewed it. They said this about it, "completely unbelievable but wholly captivating flight into fancy composed of unequal dollops of comedy, romance, poignancy, funny colloquialisms and Manhattan's swankiest East Side areas captured in the loveliest of colors." The film has become completely iconic. Even if everyone hasn't seen it, they can probably recognize this print when the pass it by when they peruse the aisles of Target. (And we all know that Target knows style.)

They probably even thought about purchasing it because they understand the cultural significance. In fact, the LBD that Audrey is wearing at the start of the film sold at Christie's for almost one million dollars. Yes. One. Million. Dollars.

While that might be out of most normal budgets, this version of the dress can be purchased at Etsy. The accessories will be a bit extra, but I think the total cost will still be slightly less than the Givenchy gown.

(From this Etsy shop.)


Happy birthday, Breakfast at Tiffany's. You look fantastic. You are fantastic.

Like anything fabulous, a book has been published. Who doesn't want a coffee table book with Audrey on the cover?

What is your favorite movie kiss?

New, Secret Book

** This was supposed to post Tuesday morning. So much for scheduling my posts in advance...

There is a book that came out today and I can't tell you about it yet because it is a late birthday present for my dear dear friend Cyndi. She also happens to be one of my loyal followers and only regular commenter, so I can't disclose information until I know her copy is in her hands. (Come on USPS, do your thing.)

I know this seems like a silly post to be writing now (you know, before I can actually say anything of substance about the book...), but I am so excited about it and can't quite contain myself. I'm so excited that I had to get myself a copy, too. (Big shocker there, huh?) I needed to be able to discuss it with Cyndi. My purchse of a copy was for purely intellectual reasons.

Cyndi and I share a Kindle account because we tend to have the exact same taste in books (except for the strange German book she ordered). This book, though, will be a real live book with pages. (Yes, in my mind books are living, breathing entities. Don't judge my choice of phrasing.)  It'll have a hard cover. It needs to be held, it's weight felt and the crack of the spine heard. Some books need to be opened and pages turned. Some books deserve to live on a book shelf and be pulled down from time to time to be revisited. It is kind of like having Facebook friends. Some of them are just there digitally and you interact with them infrequently in that Zuckerman created cyber-land. Some, though, you actually invite over for dinner and share physical space with.

This book has art. And poetry. And it is by my all time favorite writer. And I might have just given away too much information for my dear Cyndi. If I did, I hope she's excited for the mail. If she isn't, I hope she pretends to be.

So, later this week look for a review of sorts on a book. And you will want to buy it. And I will give you a direct link. This friend is one you should all invite to dinner.

Does anyone see the irony in my book label being "Kindleworthy" when I have just gone on about how this is the opposite of being a Kindle text?

(All images via Pinterest)

Who is your favorite author? Do you share my philosophy on books?

Loving Tulle

Yesterday I did a little shopping. Mostly I did some looking after I ran errands. (And I certainly didn't cave and buy the cutest pair of gray boots. Nope, beau, no new shoes here. No need to check the closet... But, for the record, if I had purchased these boots, I would have had $15 off, thus making them pretty affordable.)

(Diba shoe image from DSW)

As I was driving home from said shoe shopping errands, I decided to stop in a little shopping center I'd never explored in the historic part of town. I found this great little clothing store called Provisions.

I fell a little bit in love. (And found myself wishing that raise was a little bit bigger.) Provisions carries a brand called Tulle. Be still my heart. Here are two items I'm really digging.

(Images from Tulle.)

OK, actually three items, since the LBD under that fantastic plaid coat is adorable, too.

The entire line is lovely and I'm seriously considering a coat from Tulle. (Gahh, which one...there are so many choices...) I think my newest jacket is four years old. It is a ski jacket. The newest coat I own is at least six years old. I was told the other day that if you can wear a piece often enough to bring it down to costing a dollar a wear it is a good buy that need not be questioned. I'm pretty certain a wool coat will be worn frequently now that fall is officially here.

What are you doing this weekend, my dear readers? Hiding shoes from loved ones? Errands? Enjoying fall weather outdoors?