Jen on the Edge

May I have your attention please?

I have it?

Good.

Elegant, at the mature age of seven-and-a-half, has announced her future baby names. In order to fully illustrate this, let’s assume that she’ll be marrying someone named John Smith.

El’s boy names, in order of preference:

1. Martin Luther Smith (or possibly Martin Luther King Junior Smith)
2. Benjamin Franklin Smith
3. George Washington Smith
4. Abraham Lincoln Smith

The girl names:

1. Rosa Parks Smith
2. Susan Beatrice Smith (as in, Susan B. Anthony — no, that’s not what the B stands for; the B comes from Junie B. Jones)
3. Sacagawea Sacagawea Smith (she likes it so much she’ll use it twice)
4. Helen Keller Smith

Graceful is thinking she likes the name Butterfly.

When I asked Elegant to repeat her list for me, she said, “Are you going to blog this?”

Graceful said, “I’m SURE she is.”

Busted.

Once upon a time, Pete and I lived in a house that had all sorts of things that we do not have here in Jenworld. Back then, we had a two car garage that led to a wonderful mud room, which led to the rest of the house. There could be a Category 2 hurricane roaring outside and we could unload our groceries without getting wet.

When we bought Jenworld, we were actually looking for a house with a garage, preferably one that was attached to the house in some manner, whether it was a mudroom, a breezeway, or even just a cardboard refrigerator box. Alas, Jenworld does not have a garage, nor could we squeeze one into the existing space.

We did the next best thing and built a screened porch. (Okay, it’s nowhere near as good as an attached garage, but my brain can rationalize just about anything short of cannibalism.)

The thing about our screened porch is that it serves as a de facto mudroom. We pass through it from the car to the kitchen and vice versa. We dump muddy shoes, wet umbrellas, and snowy boots on the porch. Our recycling resides there too.

But we also love to hang out on the porch and admire our little domain. We have wonderful views of the back yard and enjoy hearing the girls play back there. It’s a very peaceful place.

So we have this lovely space that is also functional, which means that the lovely space is often an unlovely mess. Plus, I never really decorated the porch. It’s not one of those beautiful “outdoor rooms” you see in all the glossy magazines.

No more.

Here’s what the porch used to look like:

Boring, I know. All that creamy white and it isn’t even clean!

(And yes, I tidied things up a bit before I took the photo.)

I kept meaning to do SOMETHING with the porch, but never quite got around to it. At one point, I had planned to paint the interior of the porch a really bold color scheme, but (again) never quite got around to it. Last week I decided that it was time to Take Action, so I went to World Market and bought cushions and pillows. Then I spent some time cleaning and painting this weekend. Here are the results:

What do you think? A bit more colorful and welcoming? It’s still not one of those beauteous magazine porches, but it’s my porch and I’m pleased with it.

What you can’t see is the grouping of potted plants I have by the door going to the kitchen, but they’re pretty, I promise. Nor can you see that the ceiling is painted sky blue, which is quite soothing. (So much so that it is inhabited by Charlotte and all of her arachnid friends.) Oh, and the recycling bin is still on the porch, but it doesn’t take up much space.

Now, whenever I Twitter that it’s Happy Hour here at Jenworld, just imagine me in the chair on the left with a drink in my hand.

Go over to Eco Women today, because Enviro Girl has written about greening your bedroom and Recycla had a nice experience at the grocery store today.

Dear Design Within Reach,

We have to talk, you and I. When I first heard of Design Within Reach (DWR), I was excited. I foolishly assumed that meant your prices were actually affordable. You know, that whole “within reach” part of your official name. Within whose reach? Because I am here to tell you that your furniture, no matter how cool it is, is not within most people’s reach. Who did your market research? Paris Hilton?

Don’t believe me? Let me elaborate:

I like this lamp:

The Artichoke Lamp is cool and fun, without overdoing it. However, I refuse to spend $7,000-$13,000 for a lamp. That’s some serious money and no one I know spends even a tenth that for lighting. Maybe 1% but that’s it. For that kind of money, I expect a lamp to be powered by the energy produced from fairy wings.

Instead, if I were so inclined to buy such a lamp — and I am, however, my husband most definitely is not — I would buy this one instead:

That’s the Knappa by Ikea and it’s only $24.99. It’s not identical to your lamp; however, I’m willing to sacrifice a little on this one. Actually, I prefer the look of the Ikea lamp over yours.

And check out the Venezia chair that you have listed in your SALE section:

It’s PLASTIC, so I assumed it wouldn’t cost too much money. It’s marked down to $150, so I was clearly a bit off in my thinking.

By contrast, Ikea sells the Urban chair for only $34.99:

Guess which one I would choose if I were in the market for an uncomfortable plastic chair?

It’s not just Ikea who is kicking your ass in the style-for-less department, so are other stores.

You sell this:

Normally this light fixture is $700, but right now you have it marked down to the low low price of $490. Are you people on crack?!? We’re talking about electrical wiring, a light bulb, and some shells. That’s it.

Luckily, World Market has this:

Normally only $19.99, right now it’s on sale for $15.99 AND they have it in other colors, such as pink and blue, which is important if one is at World Market with a seven year old girl and she is certain this lamp will change her life forever. (Alas, the seven year old’s life remains unchanged at this time.)

I’ve been thinking about getting an ottoman for the living room in Jenworld. Something simple, like a black leather cube.

You have this:

I am NOT spending $550 for something I’ll put my feet on.

Instead, I very likely will buy this instead:

That’s from Tar-zhay and it’s only $49.99. I don’t care if it’s faux leather, because frankly I’d rather not feel guilty for killing cows in my quest for cheap chic.

I will admit Design Not-Within Reach that you do carry some amazing items, including all the great mid-century style icons. For example, this:

When I bought this — and I debated this purchase for months — I checked your website for information and a price comparison. And I ultimately did buy My Precious. That said, I most certainly did not spend the $3,000 you were asking. Oh no, my friends, I did not. Instead, I went somewhere else. Another website where I can find pretty much anything you sell, but for much much less.

eBay.

Yep, that’s right. I am not ashamed to admit that I bargain hunt for my style, as do most people. And I am a huge fan of “Buy It Now” auctions.

In conclusion, I can only say that you, Design Not-So-Much-Within Reach, are falsely named. I suggest you change to something more honest, such as Design Within The Reach Of The Upper Class But Not The Rest Of You Little People.

Sayonara. I’m off to hit the sales at Pier 1.

XO,

Jen

Friends of ours have a 14 month old daughter, M, who is full of vim and vigor. Much vim, much vigor.

For various reasons, M’s childcare provider was out of commission for part of yesterday, so I decided to revisit my past and spend the morning with a toddler.

I am exhausted.

Okay, not completely, but I had forgotten how BUSY toddlers are. There’s just so much to do. Cheerios to eat. Birds to spy on from low windows. Cabinets and drawers to explore and empty. Toys to be carried from room to room. Magazines to tear up read carefully. Elegant’s mini trampoline to test — repeatedly. Big People shoes to be tried on in various ways. Diapers to be filled with nasty brown goo.

I had forgotten how much attention toddlers need. There’s no just leaving them in a room alone and hope they don’t climb in the fireplace or stand on a chair. Mini blind cords must be looped way up high. Books and knitting are not safe. Stairs have to be cordoned off. I felt like the Secret Service, with my eyeballs constantly scanning the perimeter for danger.

[Note to self for the future: Do not be sidetracked by the cute smile when little hands are simultaneously reaching for a potted plant, hoping you don't notice.]

I had also forgotten that toddlers are just so much fun. Peekaboo is the funniest game EVER, as is pat-a-cake. Stacking Tupperware is also quite engrossing. Looking out the windows at the birds and squirrels is another activity that, while not active, is time consuming. Not to mention, how important it is to drag around some of Graceful and Elegant’s stuffed animals, which could not miss out on the fun. Oh no, the monkey and the panda had to be there too.

There were the cheeks to smooch, a poochy little belly to pat, and a head full of curls that begged to be played with. M would be walking by and then suddenly decided she needed to be in my lap. After a moment or two, she’d wiggle off and go about her merry little way, only to repeat the process a few minutes later.

As a good friend to my friends, I felt it was important to help them educate their little girl in music, so M got a starter course on Queen and Led Zeppelin. She didn’t seem much moved, so clearly further tutorials are in order.

[Note to M's parents: I did not teach your child about "Rosalita", as I felt that was a rite of passage you should handle.]

Do you know what is GREAT FUN? Yarn. All over the place:

I fully admit to allowing this and laughing while it occurred.

Do you remember the bead incident from two weeks ago? M helped me round up a few more. Wasn’t that helpful of her?

M also helped me organize papers:

Surprisingly, I didn’t end up in the fetal position over this. I enjoyed watching M explore, which somehow kept my head from exploding over the mess. Was I this relaxed when my girls were little? I don’t actually remember, but I’m guessing I wasn’t.

One thing I do remember about the toddler years is the bliss of nap time. I put a quilt on the floor for M and she laid down and was asleep in about two minutes, no exaggeration. It was fun to just watch her. After about 30 minutes, she started stirring, so I scooped her up and we napped on the sofa together for an hour. As I said, bliss.

After lunch, M left Jenworld. The house was quiet. I could go to the bathroom without anyone watching. I could eat without anyone wanting to share my fresh mozzarella. I could let my guard down for a few minutes.

It’s too quiet around here. I might have to babysit again soon.

A while back, Mrs. G. over at Derfwad Manor asked for questions from her readers. We could ask her just about anything and she said she would respond.

My question was:

Of all the books you’ve read, which one is your favorite and why? That’s a tough one, I know, because it’s like choosing a favorite among one’s children. So, to be fair, when you post your response (and there’s no time pressure), I’ll post the same on my blog. Hopefully, by then I’ll have decided which of my children I love the most.

Mrs. G. responded:

Last year, Mrs. G. finally quit equivocating and declared Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird her favorite book of all time. The story holds up generation after generation, its themes are timeless and Atticus Finch is her Secret Boyfriend #8.

So now I have to uphold my end of the bargain and declare my favorite book of all time. Perhaps it would be helpful if I first list my three favorites:

• Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
• Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier
• The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas

These are the true loves I return to again and again, even when I’ve whored my brain out to the likes of John Grisham and Clive Cussler.

These are not necessarily the best books I’ve ever read — although they are quite excellent — they are merely my favorites. Like Mrs. G., I believe To Kill A Mockingbird is one of the best books I’ve ever read.

Of these The Count is my favorite.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read it, but it’s at least a half dozen.  Every time I do open its battered cover, I’m completely transported into this tale of love, revenge, and redemption.  If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend that you do so.

So now it’s your turn readers. What is your favorite book of all time? It doesn’t have to be the best book you’ve ever read, just the one you return to repeatedly.

And while we’re on the subject of reading, go over to Eco Women and check out today’s posts!

Something I know my husband would appreciate, but which I will never knit for him:  The Knitted TARDIS.

It is now High Gardening Season here in Jenworld. For the next six-ish weeks, I will spend countless hours outside, trying to hoe the Jenworld Botanical Gardens into some semblance of civility and order.

During this time, my hands will be constantly chapped and rough, in spite of lubricating my epidermis with vats of Badger Balm. My nails will chip and break and I’ll have to scrub extra hard to get the dirt out from underneath. I’ll probably develop blisters and slash myself on the climbing rose at least twice in five minutes before I remember that roses have THORNS. I have several pairs of gardening gloves, with which I could protect my non-manicure, but I will invariably forget.

During High Gardening Season, my thoughts will be obsessed with plants. About what combinations of flowers, vines, and leaves would look best in the pots by the front and back doors. About how many azaleas I can buy before I drain the girls’ college fund to the point where they’ll have to take out Pell Grants. About how many trips I can take to the garden shop before Pete asks me to stop before I landscape us into financial ruin and then we can no longer afford the Jenworld part of the Jenworld Botanical Gardens.

During High Gardening Season, the mini van will have a constant smell of fresh mulch about it, as well as spills of dirt and mulch in the back. It’s not a pick up truck, but it masquerades as one during this time of the year.

During High Gardening Season, I will spend much of my free time outside. On the weekends, this will be no problem, as that’s easily 28 hours of daylight over the course of Saturday and Sunday, if one counts dawn and dusk as part of daylight hours. I’ve never gardened by flashlight, but there’s a first time for everything. There’s just so much to do during the season and I must finish my work before the heat of June makes further planting unwise.

During the week, it’s a bit harder for me to find time to garden, as I have to work in order to afford this habit of mine. Once the girls get home from school, I’m usually done with work and can putter around outside. “Putter” is a bit of an understatement as what will happen is that I’ll tell the girls, “I’m going to go check on the herbs, in case you need to find me.” Thirty minutes later, someone will wander outside to find that I’ve checked on the basil, but then have moved on to transplant a mature butterfly bush and am now sweating and filthy.

I know, I know, each and every one of you is saying, “But Jen, we all know you don’t transplant mature butterfly bushes, as they can’t handle the shock of the move.” Such is the power and joy of High Gardening Season that I believe I am all-powerful and can do ANYTHING in the garden. I am the MASTER OF MY DOMAIN — bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha!

In the past two days, I’ve made two trips to the garden shop. Here are the efforts of my Thursday excursion:

That’s just 30 minutes at one shop. I hadn’t bargained on getting so much — silly me — and had taken the car, not the van, so there was some creative maneuvering to fit everything. The flats of impatiens went into the trunk and everything else went into the back seat. I still had room in the front seat, which is pretty impressive. I once took the van to a garden shop, filled the back and the second row entirely and then had to seatbelt a large shrub into the seat next to me. The shrub and I conversed all the way home and I named him Norman.

During my Thursday buying binge, I bought only plants for the pots by the front and side doors, annuals for a couple of shady spots, and one truly amazing planter that I will have to take a photo of for you, because it’s just so great. I’m not taking the photo now because it’s 3 a.m. and too dark outside for photo taking.

[Awake at 3 a.m. Jen? Yes, well that's another story for another time.]

Yesterday, for various reasons, Pete and I decided that the girls would have a Mental Health Day from school. The junior gardeners and I went to another gardening shop, where we picked up several azaleas to fill in one relatively new flower garden that has some bare spots just begging for shrubs. We also stocked up on some of our sun loving annuals. There was also some negotiating on the girls’ parts to buy other things, including a small koi pond and several fountains. They made a compelling case for adding water features to the Jenworld Botanical Gardens, but for various reasons, I had to say no. I did promise that we would consider a fountain next year, but that our focus on Friday was on sun loving annuals.

What will probably save us from financial ruin this year is that my across-the-street neighbor, a wonderful retired lady who is a dear friend of mine and also my gardening partner in crime, is convalescing from surgery and won’t be able to hit the garden shops this spring with her usual ferocity and determination. We’ve had some epic excursions, Barbara and I, and often slink home in guilt, hoping our husbands won’t notice how much money we spent on daylillies alone. And you should see her yard. Barbara has THEME GARDENS — the Zen garden, various butterfly gardens, the shade loving garden, the hillside garden, the herb garden, the vegetable garden, the rose garden … the list goes on and on. Neighbors walk from many blocks away to see what Barbara is up to that day and what is blooming in Barbara Park. (Yes, we all call it that.) By comparison, my own not-too-shabby yard looks like an abandoned lot.

Today, Elegant and I will be transplanting flowers from her personal garden to Graceful’s and then planting beans in Elegant’s space. I’ll also be planting everything purchased on my two trips to the garden shop, while Elegant will take on watering duties, which means that I’ll have to tell her repeatedly to stop watering herself/me/the driveway/the sky and to aim the water back on the plants. Graceful will probably help with putting in annuals along the borders, as that’s a task that she enjoys. Soothing and contemplative and with immediate results. They are budding gardeners, those two girls of mine.

When my labors are complete, I plan to sit on my screened porch and admire the view that I created.

Eight years ago, we bought our house from the original owner — a woman who was, shall we say, advanced in years. Every now and then, we still get mail for her, including most recently Foot Smart catalog. Tagline: “Smarter, Better Products for Lower Body Health.”

I had never heard of this catalog and, based on the front cover, was pretty certain I was not the target demographic.

I don’t have a problem with espadrilles per se, but if you look closely enough, you can see that the foot models are wearing nude pantyhose.

I could easily rest my case with that one piece of evidence, but I decided to do more investigative research. I boldly opened the catalog and started sniffing out more clues.

The plethora of ugly shoes within the pages of the catalog was painful to my eyes. I’m not actually going to include any photos here, just on the off chance that one of my readers has some of these shoes in multiple colors and they are her very favorites. I really wouldn’t want to offend anyone. Really.

What really struck me was the abundance of support items shown in the catalog: arch supports, gel insoles, and more. I had no idea that some women suffer so much from foot discomfort in their later years.

I saw several variations on this:

In case you don’t know, it’s a nighttime splint for plantar fasciitis. This must be a serious issue for older women (and I’m not joking about this at all) because there are easily a half dozen different splints available, as well as assorted other aids.

I have actually had plantar fasciitis and I can say with certainty that it is painful. During that period, I could pretty much wear only Crocs in order to not walk in total agony. Not once during that time did it ever occur to me that splinting my feet into immobility would help the situation. Then again, the possibilities of the ways I could hurt myself while wearing a splint at night are numerous and a splint worn at night is not a good idea at all. Because we all know the very first night, I’d get up at 3 a.m. to go to the bathroom and would fall flat on my face, thereby needing costly plastic surgery to repair my broken nose.

Also contained within the pages of Foot Smart are a variety of toe thingies — splints, pads, casts, braces and more. These fall within a variety of health areas, including bunions (never had them) and hammer toes (ditto). What is the deal with hammertoes? Is it from wearing too-tight shoes? Or is it part of the aging process? And is it hereditary? As far as I know, neither of my grandmothers has this affliction, but I might have to ask them to take off their shoes the next time I visit.

Again, I am clearly not the target demographic for this catalog.

The catalog also had a few pages of bras, none of which could be found in Victoria’s Secret. I’m not sure what brassieres have to do with feet, unless there’s some fetish I’m not aware of.

The catalog had some oddball gadgets including this one:

That, my friends, is a Stocking Donner. Make sense now? My personal suggestion would be to forgo the stockings. I don’t know how the Stocking Donner works, but I do know that I would probably ruin at least three pairs of stockings just trying to put them on.  If I were so inclined to wear stockings, which I am not.  And definitely not nude ones.

And now I’m on page 41 and see that two items for sale are tweezers and a travel magnifying mirror. See my comments about bras above.

Near the end, the shoes get a little better, including some by Merrell and Teva. But they are mostly ugly and I am definitely not the target demographic for these styles.

Can someone please explain these to me:

They have a non-skid tread, which I think is unnecessary, as most of us have enough friction on our feet to keep from sliding out of our shoes. But maybe I’m missing something here.  Also, if someone has hammertoes, I’m going to counsel against wearing open toe shoes so as to keep them out of sight.

Okay, so I’ve gone through the entire catalog and don’t see anything that makes me want to pull out my Visa and start shopping. As I said at the beginning, this is clearly a clearly a catalog for women who are of a certain age, which is a higher number than my personal age. This does not apply to me at all. No it does not.

[gasp]

I just turned over the catalog and looked down at the address label. It has MY name on it, not the previous owner’s. This catalog IS meant for ME.

*sob*

I went and joined Twitter — all because of Blackbird, Sarah, and Poppy. I have no idea exactly what that entails, but I did it.

Anyone wanting to find me can search for jenontheedge and my usual image of me.

If you’re on Twitter, please let me know so that I can stalk you follow your updates.

Updated to add:  So, um, any WordPress folks have any clue as to how I would add my Twitter updates to this blog?  Apparently putting the html in a text box doesn’t quite do the trick.