Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Snapshots ~ FNO

giveaways

getting ready


macaroons dyed to match the merchandise color palette


order.these.now....delicious!


waiting



why, yes please!

gah!

mobbed!


styling the customers

love this town

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Back To School


In the very early hours of this morning I filled out a mock High School Diploma for my son to turn in on the first day of senior year.
A few hours after he left on the bus for his last first day of school, I walked my excited 4th grader to her school.
She was decked out in her "favorite" new outfit ~ a plaid button up with a tank underneath, skinny jeans and these fabulous glittery combat boots that she.HAD.to.have.


Her outfit was not unlike something I wore to a White Zombie concert at the old Limelight in NYC in the early 90's.
"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree" and "What goes around comes around" ~ these cliches all apply to Miss "I'm Not A Girly Girl".


But it was also a melancholy morning for a lot of reasons.
My boy will officially be a man this Saturday as we celebrate his 18th birthday. It was tough to know that this was the last time I'll stand at the door discreetly watching to make sure he gets on the bus safely.
My daughter chatted with me and held my hand as we walked to her school. But then she would only let me walk her to the crossing guard. She didn't want me to cross the street with her and walk her to the front of the school.
I stood there on the corner and watched her confidently walk away and I'd be lying if I said my heart didn't break a little when she didn't turn her head to look back at me and smile and wave.
Like she used to.

The kids don't need me as much anymore and it makes me sad.
As I walked back home alone I thought about how nice it was to walk those sidewalks with her every day.
I reflected on how much I loved taking that sabbatical from working this time last year and what an awesome housewife I make.

Tomorrow I am off to NYC for Fashion's Night Out to help support an event the company I work for is running; complete with celebrity guest.
I'll be tearing through my closet in a few minutes searching for the perfect outfit, accessories and shoes to wear.
There will be a DJ, catered food, cameras flashing all over....my stomach will be fluttering all day in anticipation.

While that girl in me who loves the rush and excitement of bright city lights, events and excitement is getting her fill of the fabulous life she knows she was made for tomorrow night, the other girl in me who loves to just be a mom will sorely miss walking down those sidewalks.



Sunday, September 2, 2012

I Pick, U~Pick

muscadine grapes

On a dreary Sunday afternoon with the berries of the season long gone, we decided to try our hand at picking grapes.
Off we went to the local U~Pick farm, a smallish parcel of land with rolling hills and a derelict looking cabin smack in the middle of it.
Chickens roamed freely around the cabin; roosting under the porch much as you could imagine them doing in the rural South.


Much to our surprise, their is an oversize type of grape that is indigenous to South Carolina and was able to be harvested.
Oversize with tough skins, these Muscadines were tasty but had pits in them which puts me off slightly regardless of flavor.
There's something so uncivilized in eating something where you are spitting pits out of the corner of your mouth.









Apparently there are still places that operate on the Honor System.


And in case people are unaffected by that, there is always a way to guilt them into owning up to what they took.


Since we passed about 9,999,999,999,999 churches on our way down and in the immediate area, I can imagine this system works quite well for the owners.


my son

Everyone got into picking the Muscadines and regular black grapes, including the curmudgeonly teen I call my son.
My daughter followed along until a bee landed on her shoulder, minding it's own business, and startled her so that she ran off faster than any of us knew she was capable of running.
In fact, we had to send the teen after her; at 17 he could hopefully outrun any of us older folk.
Besides, we had all been stuffing our faces full of grapes as we picked so we were a little weighted down.
Instead we watched the whole episode unfold like commentators at a sporting event.

my father in law

We eventually found her by the car in hysterics, the teen trying to comfort her as awkwardly as a 17 year old can as she ranted and raved about how she "hates nature".
We took it as a cue that our grape picking adventure was over and it was time to get on the road.
The haul was paid for and and a guilty soul or two may have slipped a few extra bucks into the Sin Bucket.
You know, in case "someone" {looks upward} was watching.