Seasons for All

Wednesday's Work of Art ~ July's Flowers

"Twelve Months of Flowers, 1730 - July" by Robert Furber.
Image from Art.com.

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Mosaic Monday ~ Stars & Stripes Forever

I was fortunate enough to spend the Independence Day holiday with my entire family.  The stars and stripes were well represented, as were fireworks and food, and patriotism and love.

Be sure to visit Mary at Little Red House to see the beautiful mosaics she and her friends have made this week.

Credit: All photos from Martha Stewart.

Home Decor ~ Adding Red to a Blue and White Room

Independence Day is only a few days away.  I've found some great inspirational home decor that showcase a bit of red in blue and white rooms and have featured them at Seasons for All at Home.  Take a look by clicking here. 

Credit:  Photo from Coastal Living.

Mosaic Monday ~ Blue and White and Sunshine

Welcome to summer at Seasons for All!  Since yellow is the color of the season, a bit of re-decorating reflects the sunny, cheerful, and warm disposition of Mother Nature.  But before it gets too hot, let's enjoy some cool blue and white outdoors.  Toile, transfer ware, linens, and hydrangea.  Just have a seat and we'll have something cool to drink.

Please be sure to join Mary at Little Red House to see the mosaics she and her friends have made on this first Mosaic Monday of summer.

Credits:  Photos from Country Living, Victoria, and BHG.

 

Sunday's Silence ~ If June Could Talk

"If a June night could talk,
it would probably boast it invented romance." 

~Bern Williams

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Remembering Old Sonoma

During the summer when I was in grade school, my grandparents would take my sisters and me to what would now be considered a very shabby chic cottage.  At the time, it was known as a turn of the century shotgun house, i.e., every room in the house was lined up one after the other.  In our case, it was first the cooking porch, then the kitchen, then the dining room, and then the bedroom. 

A huge enclosed side porch was eventually built off one side of the house, it became the sleeping porch with 2 double beds and 3 twin beds, and what was once the bedroom became a small living room.  The house sits on an old fruit orchard, and the sweet smells of walnuts, apricots, plums, figs, and blackberries were always floating in the air. 

Inside, there was a Victrola in the dining room, a wood burning stove in the kitchen, and the drawers in every room held relics that were nearly as old as the house.  Summer nights were beautiful.  Balmy or windy, the trees glowed with now-vintage outdoor lights.  Well soaked blue hydrangeas lined two sides of the house, and flowerbeds were marked by whitewashed rocks that I recall painting early in the season with my grandfather. 

The neighbor who lived on the orchard next door had a pool and we were always welcome to swim there.  We swam in the neighbor's pool, picked blackberries that permanently stained our clothes, took trips into town for groceries, and catnapped outdoors on a huge blue mattress that was placed squarely underneath the branches of one of the walnut trees.  Upon arrival, my grandmother, who was born and raised in San Francisco and who wore hats and gloves to "The City" all her life, placed a cotton lined vinyl tablecloth on the huge picnic table located outside the cooking porch.  Lunch and dinner were always served outdoors.   

In the mornings, I remember waking up on the sleeping porch and feeling nearly paralyzed by the cold.  My grandparents were already awake and in the kitchen cooking breakfast.  They had lit the old stove whose job it was to heat the house room by room.  By the time we had our robe and slippers on and had brushed our teeth, a hot breakfast was ready.  In mismatched chairs, five of us would crowd around the little wooden table and began our day together. 

Some days turned hot very quickly, and the heat made us lazy.  There was no telephone.  The lone black and white television relied on rabbit ear antennae for reception and, at that, it was hit or miss.  There were a few very outdated magazines were in the dining room but the idea of reading anything, including of the books we had brought with us, wilted in the heat.  

A game or two of cards or Parcheesi on the picnic table would entertain us after dinner as the hot sun finally set for another day. We took baths in an old clawfoot tub and listened to the sound of crickets singing as we fell asleep at night.  

The drive home was equally country-like in that there were fruit stands peppered along the old highway.  We always arrived home with fresh fruit, dusty clothes, sun-kissed cheeks, and an appreciation for life in the country. 

Just like our days and nights in Old Sonoma, my memories of time spent there are quiet and sweet, summery and lingering.

   

Wednesday's Work of Art ~ A Late Summer Stroll

  "Late Summer" by Lene Casey. Image from Art.com. 

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