This weekend marked the start of the much-anticipated barbecue season. Even though I eschew meat (and cheese and deviled eggs, for that matter) I thoroughly enjoy the whole backyard barbecue scene, what with its guava drinks and tiki torches and sunburns. Though the barbecue is not an exclusively American activity, the suburban splendor of the American backyard barbecue has a uniquely kitschy and life-affirming quality that has been enjoyed since at least the invention of the suburb.

Sizz lighter fluid tin, currently $9 on ebay

I’m pretty sure the backyard barbecue became so popular in the postwar era because with the general shift from urban areas to single family housing outside of the city centers (thanks to a dramatic increase in housing demand and government subsidies aimed specifically at single family housing, automobiles, and freeways) came the notion that the good life was the private life. Instead of the porch out front and the garage out back, people retreated into their backyards, leaving the carport and front lawn as a barrier to the rest of the world. Perhaps it was the recent trauma of depression and war; actually, the right to privacy was one of the rights/freedoms many felt the war was about, and an escape from crowded urban living signaled the arrival of prosperity. A 1950 House Beautiful article by Joseph Howard entitled “The Good Life is NOT the Public Life” went so far as to say that “if your neighbors can observe what you are serving on your terrace, your home is not really your castle. If you can’t walk out in a negligee, to pick a flower before breakfast without being seen from the street or by the neighbors, you have not fully developed the possibilities of good living.”¹

If this is the case, why go to a public park that provides access to playgrounds, patios, and barbecue grills, when you can keep all that for yourself in your own backyard, and not have to share it with anyone?

I’m sorry, did I say I enjoyed the backyard barbecue? I meant it. I’m being a little snarky here because I fundamentally disagree with many of the values upon which the suburban backyard is built, and I actually lived in a postwar house with a backyard and felt suffocated and anxious. But for some reason I still hold in high esteem the graphic history and the enormously fun present of outdoor entertaining.

Neet-Heet magazine ad, circa 1960, $18 on ebay

Ole Diz charcoal starter tin, $30 on ebay

Set of 35 vintage paper placemats, $10.75 on etsy

Vintage gingham metal bowl, $13 on etsy

Vintage BBQ Time tablecloth, $12.50 on etsy

Vintage barbecue tool set, $30 on etsy

And just to show that not everything barbecue-related was red, behold the simple white divided plate:

Divided barbecue illustrated plate, $10 on etsy

Also, I really hope Joseph Howard picked flowers in his negligee.

¹Treib, Mark. The Architecture of Landscape, 1940-1960. See also Landscape and Race in the United States by Richard H. Schein.

I have loved my little bungalow by the sea for nearly three years now. I have a somewhat odd relationship with places I live. I often consider them alive and quiet soulful beings; friends, really. I take care of them, and they take care of me. Predictably, I find it emotionally challenging to leave a house I have loved, a house that has been good to me, because it’s not unlike parting with a close friend. It’s not surprising that now, having to leave my beloved bungalow for financial (and some emotional) reasons, I’m feeling sad at the thought of abandoning such a good friend, and I hope that it’s well taken care of after I’m gone.

Though I loved the house from the moment I stepped inside, it took all this time to feel like I had achieved a point where I was creatively happy with it, and it’s hard to believe the before and afters sometimes:

There was still a lot to do, like finish the bedroom and bathroom and clean up the outside. But like any good project, it never would have been truly finished, and so I pass on this wonderful friend to someone new. Here’s hoping it will be as good to you as it was to me.

I’ve been gone for a while now, due in part to the sudden passing of my father, who was a sort of larger than life figure for me for 30 years.

As shown here, my dad was clearly a badass. He cussed, watched football, ate steak, and worked out at least an hour a day. He also emptied the dishwasher, organized his bathroom drawers, and planned family vacations. He taught me how to play golf, shoot pool, and play cards, and he taught me to strive to accomplish more than I thought I could, to work hard and be happy. He expected a lot, but never failed to make sure I knew how proud he was of me and how much he loved his little girl.

I’m going to miss my dad terribly, but I would never trade all the pain of this loss for all the years of memories I’ll get to keep. Also, these photographs:

When my parents were only dating. This lasted a few weeks before they ran off and got married.

A handsome devil, this one.

Their third of 42 Christmases together.

We still have this gold rocking chair and I am never giving it up.

I was also very small here.

What this holiday taught me was this: anything can happen, at any time; make sure you never take your loved ones for granted and please keep things in perspective.

Here’s to a new year and a new beginning. Thanks, Dad, for giving me a great start, and more than I could ever deserve.

For my somewhat successful yard sale yesterday, I made these molasses spice cookies. They were incredible. Adapted from the Cook’s Illustrated recipe.

11 1/4 ounces flour (about 2 1/4 cups)
1 teaspoon baking soda
3 1/2 teaspoons pumpkin pie spice*
1/4 teaspoon finely ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup Earth Balance
1/3 cup dark brown sugar
1/3 cup granulated sugar (plus more for dusting, optional)
1 tablespoon canola oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup light or dark molasses

Preheat oven to 375° with rack in center.

Combine flour, baking soda, spice, pepper, and salt in medium bowl. In large bowl, mix Earth Balance with brown and white sugar with a wooden spoon until nice and creamy. Add canola oil and vanilla and stir to combine, then add molasses and mix it up until it looks like this:

and try not to eat too much of it at this stage. Gradually add in the flour mixture. You should end up with a dough that’s not too crumbly, but holds together well enough to form little balls. Roll these little balls around in some granulated sugar (they’re just more magical this way) and place them on a baking sheet, which you’ll then place in the oven.

Bake for about 11 minutes – you don’t want them to be done. Remove from the oven and let them sit there for about 5 minutes and think about what they’ve done. Place them on a cooling rack and try not to eat them all at once.

*The Cook’s Illustrated version calls for adding your own cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and allspice. I didn’t have any ginger or allspice, and they’re damn expensive if you don’t have a bulk spices area in your market, so I cheat and use pre-mixed pumpkin pie spice because it’s already in roughly the right proportions. If you’re curious, those proportions are two parts cinnamon, two parts ground ginger, one part ground allspice, and one part ground cloves.

These cookies were a big hit this weekend, with some going so far as to ask whether or not I baked professionally, and one guy even said it would be criminal if I didn’t. So fool your friends and make these amazing cookies, and don’t tell them they’re vegan until after they already take a bite.

I found some more stuff!

$2

vintage fabrics, at least one yard of each, negotiable

Large Pyrex mixing bowl, 70's canister set

$5, kitteh NFS

Here are some of the things in my outbox. Help me get rid of them!

sale!

You can buy any of these things through my etsy shop, with new discounts!

Holt Howard spoon rest, $5
Crown Devon teacup & saucer, $4
Fiesta salt and pepper shakers, $6

If you live in the LA area, I’d be happy to sell you (or give you, frankly) any of this stuff!

Vintage wall-mounted swing arm lamp, free!

Come on, just $10! It goes on the wall, and it's wood! and awesome!

Free! come get it!

also free.

these have seen better days, but I can't bear to throw them away.

This painting was awesome and free ... and oops! it's gone!.

If you want any of this, let me know! leave it in the comments and I’ll get back to you.

Whenever I approach any design project, whether it’s a brand or a website or a room, I begin by determining what I want the end emotional response to be. All the elements that go into the design – the colors, typefaces, ornamentation or lack thereof – are like ingredients for creating a whole idea. What I’m going for with my one room remedy is a soothing, warm beige sort of thing with lots of wood, old and handmade things, and whatever else it takes to make me feel like I’m on vacation, like I’m traveling on the mother road in the 30’s or 40’s and I’ve stopped at a roadside cabin. Here’s my color palette:

and my style tray:

Last week’s assignment was to research our shopping list, and this week we’re supposed to start buying. When you’re not buying from catalogs, chain stores, or other new stock sources, it can be a little difficult to find everything you seek in just a few weeks. So stay flexible, visit a wide range of thrift stores and antique malls, as well as online sources like craigslist, ebay, and etsy; and figure out what you can make yourself. For my room, I’ll need an overhead light (budget permitting), pillows, and some other roadside/route 66-ish (but not the tacky kind) accessories.

First, the vintage handkerchief pillow: great idea, or the greatest idea? Either way, it fits in perfectly with the travel theme. See the how-to here, from design*sponge:

You can find hankies on etsy fairly easily:

Beyond these, the possibilities for vintage travel things are endless!

New Mexico souvenir tray, $7 on etsy

These souvenir trays are everywhere. Hang them on the wall, or perhaps place them on flat surfaces to contain things. It is a tray, after all.

$8 on etsy

Hooray for pennants!

Vintage pillow, $15 on etsy

$12 on etsy

When I recently redecorated the bedroom, I wrote a little guide to translating your style tray and inspiration photos into practice in a real room, as well as some painting tips. Check them out here, and get your hands dirty this week!

Did you ever hear about the experiments with rats where they would get frustrated in some way, and then made themselves feel better by going and beating up other rats? Now, I am not a professional interior designer, nor stylist, nor photographer. I have no budgets and I have very limited resources. Thus, I live in a very fragile glass house as I throw these stones, but hey, it’s fun. When checking out some professional design sites to get inspiration for my pretty pink bedroom, I came across some genuine head-scratchers. Case in point:

Living, etc. calls this “Cape Cod style.” I call it “Who let the pony on the bed” or “Let’s get out of this hotel room before they see what we’ve done” or “half-assed shipwreck.” Seriously, wtf? Hasn’t this casual styling business gone a bit too far? I don’t even know what kind of inspiration I’m supposed to take away from this other than “blue” and “America” and “whatever.”

Okay, so this one’s not so bad, though there’s a lot I could say about how vague and disconnected it is. But what’s with the overstyling? Magazine on the bed? Water on the bedside table? It makes it unclear where the design ends and the styling begins – oh, I just leaned this mirror up against the wall so I’d have a place to hang my dress? How would you even use that mirror in real life with that chair in front of it?

I want to make it clear that I love everything about this setup except SOMEONE PLEASE FIX THE STRIPED BLANKET IT’S GOING TO FALL VERY SOON kthx

I promise I’ll be positive in my actual inspiration post to follow.

Tonight, as part of the Fall Cure, I decided to clean out my spice cabinet. The stuff I use on a daily basis I buy in small amounts in the bulk section and put them in tins, but as soon as I got that out of the way, a dark, nefarious faction was discovered in the back of my cupboard.

Yes, this is monosodium glutamate. It appears to be from the 60’s or 70’s. And it’s nearly full. What possessed me to take this from my mother’s kitchen in the first place? Why did I keep it? Why did she?

Here we have an interesting collection of specimens. These are all from different eras, as evidenced by the slight differences in the label. The oldest dates back to my days fresh out of college, living on my own and apparently doing very little baking. The next saw me through my move to Los Angeles when, again, I did very little baking. The newest specimen is actually still within its use by date, and is identified by the “gluten-free” notation on its label. The completeness of its contents suggests that I still do very little baking.

These are tins of sage and nutmeg. I don’t know which is which because they are both comically past their expiration dates, and therefore, they’re both getting thrown away anyway.

Even though I’m in the process of becoming vegan, I’m not sure what the urgency was behind replacing my Worcestershire sauce so quickly. First, I almost never used Worcestershire sauce to begin with, and when I did, it was to marinate meat. If you didn’t realize, Worcestershire sauce traditionally includes anchovies, which are, in fact, fish. Anyway, is it just me, or is it bizarre that on the bottle of vegan Worcestershire sauce, it recommends that you put it on “hamburgers, meatloaf, poultry, seafood …” Really? I’m going to buy a clearly marked “vegan” sauce and then proceed to put it on meat? I also eliminated barely full bottles of olive oil that were mediocre even all those months ago when they were newly purchased, generic balsamic vinegar, honey, and almond extract that I have a feeling came from my post-college roommate.

Now, I have a newly organized spice cabinet with things from this year.

Well, I guess now that all my road trip and color contest nonsense is out of the way, I can get back to the business of curing. When I last left the cure after my breakup six months ago, I made it through week 3, the landing strip, which I upgraded for the color contest with a cute little trunk I picked up at the Pasadena City College flea market (recommended! 1st Sunday of the month):

Hooks for dog leashes, bags, and purse; also a mail sorter, key holder, and vintage cheese box for my phone, notebooks, and pen.

The other side has a hook for sweaters (coats and whatnot go in the only non-bedroom closet I have), a basket for important, deal-with-me-now mail, a yellow thing for loose change, a cat for immediate softness and petting, and a recycle bin for junk mail.

And yes, if you’ve been following the contest at all, I am also sick of looking at pictures of this room. Maybe I should paint stripes …. never mind. Anyway, since I missed week two because of vacation and my landing strip is already functioning quite well, I’m taking the rest of week 3 to focus on the kitchen cure that’s also going on. When I was cleaning out my spice cabinet, I realized that the wood my cupboards are made up of is not so nice. I could cover the bottoms with contact paper, but it gets peely and bugs me. So, I’m going to do what I always do: paint. A semi-gloss enamel will be way easier to clean and provide a bit of color:

Mine won’t look nearly as nice as these, since I’m starting with dark wood and not cream or white. But no matter. The Kitchen Cure asks you to tackle one special project in the kitchen in addition to cleaning and decluttering, and this is mine. Color thoughts? This is what the dishes cabinet looks like, all dark and dank:

Off-white is tempting for contrast, but will it be harder to keep clean?