In 1876, a shipping magnate from Liverpool, England consulted James Abbott McNeill Whistler, American expat painter living in London, in redesigning his Far East-inspired dining room. At first, Frederick Leyland, the patron, asked Whistler for simple suggestions on paint colors for the space, as one of Whistler's portraits was to hang over the mantle.
Yes, gals, that's Anna Wintour's signature smirk on my tele.
My go-to easy summer appetizer is a lovely assembly of raw or poached veggies with an assortment of dips. But, rather than haphazardly arranging your carrots and cucumbers on a plate, or dashing off to CostCo for a ready-made version that's been sitting in the refrigerator for ten days, take a bit of care, and you'll produce a visual display that might make even the kiddies want to gnaw on some crudites.
Rather than dashing out to buy peonies or tulips this Friday, I am simply staring at one of my potted plants. Two birthdays ago, one of my dearest friends from high school/soul sister sent me this orchid. It bloomed a glorious fuchsia shade for about a month and then, as they do, the blooms all fell off. 
After four years of living in our apartment sans draperies, I finally purchased curtains for our living room. Because we live in easy breezy CA, I selected very soft, white, sheer panels that are uncharacteristic of my usual exuberant color choices.
"The main point is to be moved, to love, to hope, to tremble, to live. To be human before being an artist!" -Auguste Rodin 
Though you might not guess it from my Pink Frenchie exterior, I LOVE baseball. I love that the season lasts from Easter to Halloween. I LOVE listening to baseball radio. I love talking ERAs and RBIs and OBPs.
Thanks to a faithful reader for reminding me about the loveliness of blooming Jacaranda trees. In Southern California, these purpley flowering trees are a botanic harbinger of summer. They line so many streets in our neighborhood that the skies appear to have produced lavender snow. Will someone please build me a Jacaranda flower snowman with a tulip nose and poppy eyes and a celosia mouth?
The current issue of Saveur magazine is entirely devoted to markets. When I set foot in a new city, I usually head for the local food market first (don't tell my art historian buddies that cathedrals and museums are sometimes second or, gasp, even third on my list of sites to visit). 
I not so secretly wish I had a little more Tony Bourdain in me. In a world of fake folks, Tony is among a rare few television personalities who says what he thinks (with or without the assistance of the local beverage of choice). 
I am catching up on the chick movies in my dvd queue and finally got to my disc of It's Complicated. Most anything that Nancy Meyer's touches turns to cinematic gold (Something's Gotta Give, The Holiday, The Parent Trap--- a.k.a. before Lohan went cracko, Father of the Bride); and, I knew from the initial credits that I would find equal satisfaction in her latest flick with Meryl, Alec, and Steve (I like to think of them as my friends, so I refer to them in the first person).
Americans save sparkling wine for special occasions far too often. Bring out the Champagne at Christmas or the Blanc de Noirs for a graduation or Cava to celebrate a promotion. I believe in popping out the sparklers for all the little everyday achievements! 
In response to a special request from a reader, I wanted to take an afternoon break and talk tapas. As the days grow warmer and the nights grow longer, tapas are the perfect mid-evening patio snack.
On the weekends, I often indulge in a little midday snacklet in the form of cheese (pictured here is the herb and garlic Boursin--yum!). A fresh crusty baguette and some Spanish olives compliment the ensemble. And du vin blanc never hurts....
Today's flowers are not trapped in a vase or contained in a bundle or stashed in a grocery store cooler. Rather, they are out in the California soil, soaking up the sunshine.
I perpetually rearrange my coffee table to reflect my current taste. Sometimes the table is quite minimal with three sleek silver candlesticks. Other weeks I'll have a large bowl of seashells out.
Ever since I watched Up, I have dreamed of tying balloons to a little house and going aloft with all of my domestic goodies. Since that would only happen in Pixarland, my fantasy has morphed into a fascination with taking a hot air balloon ride. This dream is only ever so slightly hindered by the fact that I am really scared of heights. I'm talking knees-knocking-in-the-nosebleed-seats scared of heights.
When I was at my grandmother's house over the weekend, she showed me a small photo of her mother and said, "she never went anywhere without a hat and gloves."
"Well, butter my behind and call me a biscuit." -Southern Saying
