My Blank Canvas



The Amherst Table from Pottery Barn

Looking back I was truly blessed to grow up in a very creative family.   Trips to various galleries and museums were frequently on our family agenda.  My parents were our own personal tour guides, weaving us through the maze of gallery rooms.  They would point out various brush strokes and shading in Monets and how Rembrandt could capture that soulful look in a child's eyes.  It was probably unavoidable that some of this artistic energy would penetrated my mind and that of my siblings.

But, growing up, I always felt the artistic talent was more innate in my brothers and sisters than in me.  They could paint an apple that looked like you could grab it and take a bite.  My sister, Mary, always fascinated me with perfect drawings and sketches of fashionable ladies that would challenge that of the House of Versace.  I vividly remember after taking a junior high art class one summer at the famous Albright-Knox Art Gallery, my sister, Katie, left with a frame-ready oil pastel painting.  I left with refrigerator art.

It wasn't until years later, as an adult, my Auntie Rose, the free-spirited older sister of my father, who was also a talented painter, made me look at "art" in a different way.  We were chatting on the phone one night about a cake decorating class I was taking and I was bubbling over with enthusiasm about it.  Then, the conversation must have somehow drifted to how much more artistic I felt my siblings were than me.  Auntie Rose backtracked quickly to point out something I had overlooked all these years.  "Well, Margie, cake decorating, baking, decorating a home---you have to be artistic to do those!  Don't sell yourself short, kiddo!  You are very artistic!"   She went on to elaborate on how much artistic expression goes into creating a pie, or a yellow buttercream rose, selecting paint colors for a bedroom.  Suddenly, I realized, "Yes, maybe I was an artist, too!"

Since then, I've learned to appreciated my artistic talents.  Especially when it comes to planning a party!  I might not be able to sketch a table, but I can sure as hell set one! With Thanksgiving less than a week away, I enjoy coming up with creative ways to present my holiday table-- my blank canvas--to my guests.   My table never looks the same, just as no two paintings from an artist ever look the same.  I love considering the possible color combinations and the mood it will all convey.  And, when my "painting" is all done, I hope all the little brush strokes that went into it don't get overlooked as they slice another piece of my carefully crafted pear galette.  But, then again, it really doesn't matter if they notice.  As with all great artists, I do it for me.

Night Owl

Thirty years ago, I recall one of my older sisters reading me the following quote:  "He who hoots with the owl cannot soar with the eagle in the morn." I'm not quite sure why that quotation stuck with me all these years, but, I find myself thinking of it every now and again.  I guess I have always been a night owl and I felt by the quotation that I had to somehow defend myself in being that way.  I just find I am much more productive, after say, four in the afternoon.

Last night I found myself sitting on the kitchen floor at 11:00 p.m. reorganizing my pots and pans cabinet.  Granted, I had to do so with much more delicacy than I would have ordinarily, so as not to wake the family who were already several hours into their 'good night's sleep'.   After that, I started to file paperwork which lead to purging part of my overstuffed filing cabinet.  Before I knew it, when I tapped on computer mouse, who was also sleeping, I saw that it was 1:00 a.m.  Yikes!  I wasn't even that tired, but, I knew I had to be up at 6:15 a.m. to get the kids to school.

Needless to say, morning came quickly and the morning news blared at me from my alarm clock.  Uuugh. After hitting the snooze several times, I staggered out of my room and woke up my youngest, Matthew.  It was still dark.  I wondered, "Are the eagles really soaring right now?"  I don't think so!

Well, here it is three hours later.  I have made three breakfasts and three lunches.  (All different ones, I might add!).  I have gotten three people off to work and school.  I have fed and walked the dog.  I cleaned up all the dishes and have gotten dressed.  I completely vacuumed and detailed the entire inside of my car.  I have taken out the trash, put on a load of laundry and checked emails.

So--- it seems to me---one can hoot with the owls and soar with the eagles in the morn!   Okay, so I'm not quite soaring!  (Truth be told, there's a pretty good chance that once a week, this eagle has to take a fifteen minute catnap.  Or, as I should say, this---Night Owl!)

Rainy Days = Baking Days

Don't you just love the tart pans!?

I can think of a thousand things I should be doing today.  Call the bank, sort through my sock drawer, dust the piano, laundry--- but, on a rainy day, what do I really enjoy doing?  Baking.  Especially on an autumn day like today.  Not that it's chilly, but Thanksgiving is coming, it makes the house smell great, and I can sample a few recipes I wanted to try.  Operative word:  "sample".  (Making a mental note to myself.)


So, I baked a few small apple tarts.  And, yes, the house smells great.

Now, after I wash all the dishes I used, I can go clean out my sock drawer in peace.

My First Post

Testing, testing, 1....2....3!

I figured that would be an appropriate first blog entry. 

(I promise to do better in the days to come!)