No ask too many questions!

Years ago, when a large part of my job involved literally making invites ( or melting hot wax in a spoon at midnight in the corporate cafeteria to seal those invites- true story) we would scour NYC for the best of everything. We knew the really good paper houses. We knew which store had the perfect envelopes. We knew where to get great flowers and even prettier vases. We spent hours on font styles and spacing. Hours. But that’s what happy insane planners in their twenties do. Right? I’m sure the Millennials are confused. Oh you of Etsy luxury. You have no idea what it means to be really grass roots. Or maybe you do. I dunno. I’m just a middle-aged Gen Xer trying to get by.
Wait, what was I talking about?
It was so nice in the city today that I walked to a further train station than usual and passed a small, stationary shop. It reminded me of the shops we would haunt and hunt in. My favorite of these oldies was a ribbon store on 28th Street or 29th street. That’s right people. A ribbon shop. Imagine a world without Michaels or AC Moore. Before The Knot or even Martha Stewart Magazine. There was/is a little shop devoted to ribbons. You can look for hours for ribbons for weddings, for gifts, for your hair – whatever you want. What you can’t do is “ask too many questions”. All along the walls are small, but clear signs,” no ask too many questions”.
To this day if one of my kids is badgering me, or if my husband is interrogating my trip to the store – this is what I think in my head. NO ASK TOO MANY QUESTIONS!

Rainy days and Mondays

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It’s almost the end of July. Eastern Pennsylvania has once again turned into the tropics.

I know today isn’t Monday. I was going to post this yesterday but then I got roped into watching American Ninja Warrior.

Have you seen that show?

I like to have a bowl of ice cream while I watch. Which is also how I watch The Biggest Loser. I’m a rebel like that.

Have a good week everyone!

(my hydrangea plants didn’t die in the heat!)

Tropic of Pennsylvania

To top off our 100 degree summer – we’ve been getting crazy midday storms! Island weather without the drinks with pretty umbrellas.

So of course we have to keep the house like the tundra.  My sister brought me these beautiful flowers – look at them after a night in the house. They’ve gone and shriveled up.

Too hot outside. Too cold inside.

What’s this post about? I don’t know. I’m too hot. And cold.

and then, and then, and then…

Know what happened? An actual flower grew on my hibiscus experiment/plant.  As promised I was going to post an update on my farming skills by taking a quick picture and posting it. But then I got distracted…

Apparently there’s also a lavender plant in my front yard. It requires zero upkeep from me – thus explaining it’s survival and healthy growth all these years, I wanted to take a picture of that too and take credit for its beautifulness (yes, it’s a word) …but then I found a big, fat bee on it. And then a butterfly. A plain jane little white butterfly. Then I couldn’t get the zoom on my camera to work. So instead of trying to figure out how to use it correctly, I just took 1,000 pictures hoping for a couple of good shots.

Then i came back inside and found our cat sitting in a compromising position on a chair. This can’t be normal behavior for a cat – it didn’t even look comfortable.  Plus she looks like she’s 500 pounds and needs to be broken out of the house via crane. And then I had to burn the chair. Weirdo cat.

Then I was exhausted by all the to do and had a diet coke (too early for wine).

The end.

(apologies for telling the story like an 8 year old – no offense 8 year olds)

This is the flower that started it all….

Then I saw this!

Then I saw this…ewww…puke puke

To Theme Wedding or Not To Theme Wedding….

Wedding themes are tempting.  And delightful.  Fall weddings, Beach weddings, love them all.  Hints of burnt orange in October, bright fun linens for a casual, ocean side wedding – beautiful.

But many times, a good theme can go bad.  Beach themes shouldn’t mean starfish and seashells everywhere, February weddings don’t need to be covered in gooey hearts,  and unless you’re on a farm – don’t have haystacks at your reception please.

By the way – I’m not judging – remember, I’m the bird lady of bucks county.  I have to fight hard to keep the theme gods in check.

One of my first theme-y weddings was for an amazing, young Brooklyn, NY couple.  She wanted to bring her Asian background into the mix – incorporate the color red into the day.  Not a deep, sexy blue red.  We needed the bright, orange ethic red (I’m Indian, I know red).

It would have been so easy to go down Chinese Lantern lane  – but we didn’t.  We held back.  Actually I held back, and the bride let me.  The great thing about being a planner is you can direct, and redirect, and distract.  Could I have gone with beautiful porcelain chop sticks and red linens throughout the room? Yes, but that’s not what she wanted.  She just didn’t know it yet.  She wanted to include her rich background and heritage, while still being modern and youthful.  This was the gal who never once talked about her wedding dress – she just went out and bought one (stunning). She was understated and sweet – that was the real theme of the wedding.

So we decided on a pop of color when people first walked into the reception – a bold announcement of joy. The escort card table was amazing.  1,000 red carnations made into a bed on a white slab of marble.  Two of these tables welcomed guests into the reception.  It would be the only place they’d see this much red together!

 

I didn’t know if these good people wanted their names all over the internet – to the tens of people who read my blog – so I blurred the card.  That red blossom paper was used on the escort cards, table numbers and menus (and invites!) .

Here’s the inside of the reception hall – the only pops of red were the flower clusters.

  

Moral of the wedding – go with theme lite.  Unless your theme is birds.  Then go buck wild.

Damn you Instagram! Damn you!

I’m hooked.  I’m addicted.  Every shot is art (in my head).  I’ve convinced myself that I’m a photog genius.

Also thanks to Insta (that’s what the cool kids call it) – I can’t freakin’ delete anything.  I’m forced to keep random shots because they’ve got a cool filter on them and they’re cropped well…..

Behold….the crap I can’t get rid off (actually this is the best of that crap, I’ll spare you the 1,000 shots of my children)

I like to call this one….birds on a tree

This one is titled, I Should Have Had A Salad

Change jar in our kitchen – note courtesy of my 8 yr old (they’ve been learning about community service at school)

Mini rose bush and black and white cookies…what?

   

You know how you hang up stuff above your stove?  Me too.  Except then I take a picture of it and pretend it’s art.

My sister made these cute little bracelets for my brats.  Then guess what happened?  I took a damn instagram and now I have to keep the picture forever.

I need an intervention.  Maybe there’s an app for that.