Beach House Update

Here are a couple before pix of our beach house as it looked when we bought it in June. In the living/dining area we found: beat-up, possibly asbestos-laced linoleum tile. Cheesey ’60s panelling below equally cheesey chair-rail. Concrete block walls covered with what looked like contact paper. Fast forward to this past weekend, five months later. Linoleum is outta there. Contact paper and panelling outta there. Drafty windows so outta there. Now showing: gorgeous reclaimed heart pine floors. New energy efficient hurricane-rated windows. Blown-in insulation. Currently nearly installed: horizontal spruce planking. The stuff you don’t see is the unsexy but very necessary expensive stuff: all new plumbing, electrical, heat and air.
Here’s how the kitchen looked when we bought it: dropped ceiling tiles, cruddy cheap-o cabinets, Nixon-era yellow vinyl wallpaper, skanky formica countertops, and more linoleum. The fridge pictured here is but one of the three that were left in the house when we bought it. The other two were out on the screened porch.

Picture the same space–in the soon-to-be Obama era. Dropped ceiling dropped in dumpster, revealing high, board and batten ceiling, which are found throughout the house. Scads of new white cabinets with deep pull-out drawers and roll-out canned good cabinets and under-cabinet lighting. Built-in space for stainless steel fridge. New slot for gas stainless steel stove between windows on the right. More gorgeous reclaimed heart pine floors.

Coming soon to a kitchen right here: black granite countertops, vintage porcelain double sink, white subway tile backsplash, pair of adorable schoolhouse ceiling fixtures, a splash of jadeite green paint, window treatments made from vintage linen dishtowelling.

Stay tuned for more updates as they happen!

SHOPPING OPPORTUNITIES!

I’m doing four signings of the newly re-released BLUE CHRISTMAS in the next week–so I really hope to have the chance to see new and old friends. The fun starts tomorrow night, Thursday Nov. 6, from 5-8 p.m. at the Holiday Open House at the fabulous Decatur, Ga. home of Marie Mealor.

Sat. Nov. 8 I’ll be at Seaside Sisters from 1-4 p.m. on Tybee Island, Ga. for our first anniversary celebration. I’m bringing lots of vintage treasures to re-stock my booth, so you don’t want to miss a chance to snag the goodies, as well as do some early Christmas shopping.

Mon. Nov. 10, 11: 30 a.m., I’ll give a talk and sign copies of all my books, including DEEP DISH, at the Cobb Library Foundation luncheon in Marietta, Ga. Tickets to the luncheon are $25 and can be purchased online at http://www.cobbcat.org/. Books will be available for purchase.

Thurs. Nov. 13, I’ll give a talk and do a signing at the Bowling Green/Warren County, Kentucky Public Library main branch at 6 p.m. Check here for details.

Yes We Did

I’ve deliberately stayed away from politics on this blog. I’m a novelist, not a pundit. I write for pure entertainment and cheap laughs are what I’m selling. But last night, when I was watching the election returns in bed, beside the sleeping Mr. Mary Kay, this is what I felt like. Tears running down my face. My late father–bless his heart–(as we say here in the South) was first generation Irish-American from the Southside of Chicago. With a name like John Patrick Hogan–this is no surprise. When I was a child he was a Kennedy Democrat, who late in life, morphed into a Reagan Republican, W-stalwart and dedicated Hilary Hater. At midnight, I was watching the celebration in Chicago’s Grant Park. I nudged MMK and asked him “you hear that sound?”
“What?”he asked groggily. “That sound. That’s the sound of my dad, spinning in his grave at the thought of a black man from the southside of Chicago being elected president. And I helped.”
OK, that’s it. I swear, no more politics. But peeps, I gotta be me.

Aussiedoodle Puppies

Can you feel the love tonight? My sister-in-law Laurie is thrilled that the first litter of puppies for her Abounding Grace Kennels has arrived. Four darling little females. Check her website here, and spread the word to anybody you know who is thinking puppy for Christmas. Or birthday. Or just because. Remember what Linus said: “Happiness is a warm puppy.”Or maybe that was Charlie Brown? Anyway, just this time last year I started hunting for a puppy for Mr. Mary Kay for Christmas, and our own Weezie turns one this week.

Blue Christmas Signing, Shopping Opportunities

If you live anywhere in Georgia I hope you’ll join me for the first of three fun signings I have coming up in the next week. The first event is this Thursday night, Nov. 6, from 5-8 pm. in Decatur. My old friend Marie Mealor–who many of you will know as the former owner of the fabulous FINAL TOUCH BOOKS AND GIFTS and later, MEALOR-BENZ Antiques, also in Decatur, is hosting a holiday open house and gift show at her beautiful art-filled home. In addition to having the newly re-issued BLUE CHRISTMAS which I’ll be signing and personalizing, Marie and friends are offering all kinds of gifty goodies, including antiques, framed original art, lamps, home accessories and much more. If you’ve ever seen Marie and Annie’s booth at the Scott Antique Mart you’ll know just how chic and elegant their offerings are. In addition, Marie’s talented daughter Stephanie Corder will be accepting commissions for her charming children and pet portraits. Please do join us Thursday night. Believe me–you’d pay admission just to see Marie’s home. I’ve been buying art and antiques from her for years, and she even much of the fluffing for me last year before our home was on the Avondale Holiday Tour of Homes. Did I mention there’ll be wine? and nibbles? Above are some photos of just a tiny portion of the offerings. Don’t miss it!

A big loss and a tiny win

Sigh. We went to the big football party down the street. Everybody was dressed in red and black. Katie actually brought UGA pasta salad. Apparently, you can buy collegiate-shaped pasta. Who knew? They had a movie theatre-sized viewing screen set up in the carport. It should have been fun. But our team lost. Wait, they didn’t just lose. They sucked out loud. Our team lost the biggest game of the year. I just hate it when that happens. The only good news was that my Gatorhater Chili won the chili cook-off and everybody scarfed up the crockpot-full of chili we brought. We won a festive red insulated totebag. Oh well. It’s only football. We’ve got much bigger fish to fry. Like the election. I early voted the first week the polls opened in our county, way back in early October. Come Wednesday morning, I’m hoping for a huge, huge, history-making win. Also a return to civility between people of opposing opinions. And that’s all I’ll say about that.

Boo Y’all!


Above, some Halloween ’08 scenes from our ‘hood. As always, we had a great time. Posse member Jinxie (that’s her, with her dog Patches) and I took a break from decorating yesterday morning in time to hit a few estate sales. One sale was at a sadly neglected old house on a great intown Atlanta street. We knew it had possibilities because the ad mentioned that the previous owner had been there for sixty years, and the sale incorporated “attic to basement.” The deceased homeowner, it turned out, had been a schoolteacher for many years. She had a whole library of vintage textbooks, phonics books, flashcards, and other school type goodies. At the other end of the spectrum, she had a fully tricked-out bar, complete with dozens and dozens of shot-glasses, many of them presumably pilfered from bars and restaurants around the country. So we figured she liked phonics….and doing shots. But the folks doing the sale told us she was actually a teetotaler–who just happened to groove on barware. Go figure! I bought a pair of old hardback Bobbsey Twins books . . . and a delightfully smutty-looking paperback copy of A Summer Place, by Sloan Wilson (better known as the author of The Man in the Grey Flannel Suit) with jacket copy promising “A compelling and adult novel about husbands, wives and lovers.” At the same sale, an elegantly dressed older lady stopped to ask me some earnest questions about a ginormous crate of Poise pads she’d found. Were they better than Depends, she wanted to know? I guess I looked to her like the go-to girl on such matters. The same sale had some elegant vintage clothes, including lots of sequinned cocktail confections. That was one rockin’ old lady–we could just see her dancing the night away in her sequins and Poise Pads. The next sale reminded us of why we love estate sales. It was held at a gorgeous Spanish-revival estate on Habersham Road, in Buckhead, which is one of Atlanta’s priciest addresses. Again, a presumably elderly homeowner, and a house that was sadly in need of repair. But oh, the architectural details! It was such a treat to see a house like that. There were some great antiques–not to mention lots of vintage furs, which we did not purchase. Jinxie got a great faux bamboo and wicker table, and a table lamp for her screened porch, and I bought a pair of nightstands for The Breeze Inn. Then we hurried home to sew up a Halloween costume for Boomerang Boy. Yes, at 22, he and his best friends and roomies were getting suited up to hit the bar scene on Halloween. (They took cabs!). Jinxie had already made the crayons for Michael (red) and Kevin (blue). So we whipped up a third for Andy (green.) As a retired schoolteacher, Jinxie amazed me with her ability to cut-out felt letters free-hand. While we were waiting for the boys to arrive for their costume fittings, we got a little glue-gun crazy and crafted a hat and collar for Patches. Then it was back home to our house to get ready for the great Halloween candy giveaway. We figured we handed out a new record 1200 pieces of candy last night. And we even won a Holiday Spirit award. Katie did all the hard work, dressing up the house–and me, as an old crow. Above are Katie and Mark and their dog Tybee. And Mr. Mary Kay, who is too cranky to wear a real costume. Today I hit a couple more yard sales, and scored a vintage chenille crib blanket for three bucks. The seller, a young woman with purple hair and multiple nose piercings, proudly told me she’d given her other one to the dog. I went on to another sale, which was really a goodie. I bought a 20-yard bolt of flannel interlining for five bucks. This will be great for the new drapes I’m having made for my sunroom. I also left a bid on a gorgeous Mitchell Gold linen armchair. The seller’s kittens had shredded the beautiful linen upholstery, and she’d bought the replacement linen to re-do it, but hadn’t gotten around to ever having it done. I couldn’t quite go the $200 price she wanted, which was actually pretty good for a $1500 chair, so I left her my phone number and a lower bid, and I’m hoping she’ll call. This is a really good strategy if you find something you love at a sale, but really don’t want to pay the stated price. You’d be surprised how many people don’t want to haul their stuff back into their houses at the end of the day. And now, it’s on to a neighborhood football game-watching party, where I will be taking my GatorHater Chili. Go Dawgs!

Come on Down to Bainbridge This Saturday

I’ll be speaking and signing books at the Georgia Literary Festival being held in Bainbridge, Georgia this weekend. My panel discussion on “Mayhem and Magnolias” will be at 3pm Saturday. Authors Glynn Marsh and Claire Matturo and I hope to cook up a fun time for all. Books will be available for sale, and most events will be on the Bainbridge College campus. So c’mon down!

Weekend Junking

I have a three-inch-thick manuscript on my desk screaming for revisions that are due back to my editor at the end of October. My house is so full of stuff for the under-construction beach house that it looks like a furniture warehouse. There is no room in my antique booth at Seaside Sisters on Tybee Island. Did that stop me from junking this weekend? NOOOOOO. On Friday I flew solo. Went to an estate sale at a ’50s brick ranch house a few miles from my own house. The sale was my favorite kind–a true estate sale of a hoarder. Even the dealers running the sale seemed overwhelmed by the volume. They told me people had started lining up outside the house at 6a.m. I myself made it over there around 11a.m. I’ve written before about my love of old linens, and this house had some goodies. I bought exquisite monogrammed banquet-sized damask napkins with entre-doux hemstitching, a dozen of ’em, for fifty cents apiece, along with six matching luncheon napkins, same price. A sweet blue cross-stitched bridge cloth for a buck. A darling organza apron, also a buck. A straw coolie hat (halloween costume for a neighbor) a buck. Also a nifty German silver bar set, with two monogrammed tumblers, matching tray and six thimble-sized shot glasses. I was going to sell these in my booth, but when I got them home and examined the monogram, it turns out to be KA–my daughter’s initials. So she got herself an early Christmas gift. Yesterday was another neighborhood-wide yard sale in Ansley Park. Ansley is another beautiful in-town Atlanta neighborhood very near the High Museum of Art. Posse members Ellen and Susie joined Katie and me. At first it looked like dreaded yard sale fare: lots of strollers, plastic kid’s toys, low-mileage exercise equipment. We resigned ourselves to just enjoying seeing how the other half lived. And then we hit a goodie: a 1920s house with an adorable carriage house in back. The home-owner was wearing yellow rubber gloves–always an interesting wardrobe accessory. She’d been hauling stuff out of an attic or basement that hadn’t seen the light of day in thirty or forty years. I scored a huge old glass jug. I think those are called carboys. It’ll look dandy with palm fronds at the beach house. She had three beautiful hand-done candlewick bedspreads, but she wanted $50 apiece for them, so we passed. A few houses later, Susie found two folding luggage racks, one for a buck, the other for two bucks. She’s been hunting them for months now, wanting to needlepoint straps for them as Christmas gifts, but they’re usually $20-$30 when we see them. One of these already even had needlepoint straps. Score! At that same sale, I found four gorgeous old oak hoop-back windsor kitchen chairs–for $40. They need re-glueing and clamping, but Mr. Mary Kay is good at that. At first I was going to put them in the booth, but now I’ve decided to keep them for the beach house. If you’re counting, I now have probably 14 kitchen chairs for the house. Something will have to go. Later, I found a charming and unusal painted watering can. That will go to Seaside Sisters. Also a matte white USA pottery vase. Favorite find of the day: Ellen found a case of cobalt blue water goblets. They were alongside other cardboard boxes full of Ritz-Carlton logo wineglasses and Delta Crown Room wineglasses. The seller told us they’d been collected by a now-deceased friend, who liked to drink, and who liked to take the old five-finger discount. He especially liked to go to the Buckhead Ritz for drinks, and every time he dined there, he’d steal his drink glass. Same thing with the Crown Room. The friend was a skinflint, so he’d take the MARTA train out to the Atlanta Airport, (this was before 9-11 security measures) and he’d happily while away the afternoon drinking for free at the Crown Room. And before he left, he’d steal himself a wine glass. The thief’s friends had kept his stuff in storage after his death, and were selling it all off. Ellen got herself great-looking glasses, and a great story, for the price of a ten-dollar bill.

Eddie Ross, Mon Amour

It started innocently enough. I was reading the Washington Post Thursday Style section online. Back in the day, when I was a features writer for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, Style was my Bible. Even today, the Post always has great articles about interior design. They pick a blog of the week, and that week, it was Katiedid, written by a young designer in Sacramento, Cal. I checked it out, loved it, and subscribed to her blogfeed. Next, I checked out the “favorites” on her blogroll. It was like discovering a new kind of chocolate/cocaine/crack. I found Cote de Texas, written by a designer in Houston. Mrs. Blandings, who writes about her Kansas City dream home, and Vintage Rescue Squad, where a Washington DC graphic designer documents her weekly junking jaunts. VRS, by the way, is snarky and truly hilarious. Truly. And then came Eddie Ross. Oh my. He had me at helloooo. Eddie is a man with a portfolio. He’s a senior style editor at the high church: Martha Stewart Living. Currently he’s a contestant on Bravo’s Top Design. We all knew an Eddie Ross in grade school. He’s that campy cut-up in the back row of the class picture, the one whose mother dressed him a little too twee–bowties and hair gel. He’s the first kid you ever realized was gay–and you didn’t care because he was so much fun. Little Eddie grew up and eventually traded in his Easy-Bake oven for a career as a caterer before he came to Martha’s attention and became the it-boy of design blogland—and Bravo TV. I was doing all right before Eddie. Sneaking a peek at those design blogs occasionally. I was maintaining, you know? And then, I think it was Mrs. Blandings who wrote about Eddie. I checked him out. Beeg mistake. Every day I check my email to see what Eddie’s up to. And he’s up to a lot. This man has the golden touch. He takes a ratty mahogany secretary, paints it french vanilla and replaces the glass doors with mirrors. Buys deli flowers and turns them into floral masterpieces. He runs into a thrift store and comes out with 19th century French sterling cranberry servers. He finds a whole set of German Bakelite at the Knights of Columbus flea market for fifty friggin’ cents apiece. He finds silverplated trophies from 1928 at the Goodwill for crying out loud. Me? I drop into my Salvation Army and find dogeared Danielle Steele novels and Pflaltzgraf coffee mugs. The Washington Post ran a piece about Eddie and his fabulous NYC apartment last week—I practically took a magnifying glass to the photos just to take in all the details. The picture above is from that article. Now I’m hooked. I’ve watched Top Design two weeks in a row, just to see what Eddie would do. This week he mugged for the camera and declared “I never get enough of me.” Me neither, Eddie. In my sad little fantasy world, Eddie calls me up, and I fly up to New York for the weekend, and we stroll off, arm in arm, into the sunset of the Hell’s Kitchen Flea Market. And there’s homemade popovers served on vintage transferware plates. And Bakelite. And sterling silver bowling trophies.