Cottage Love

Living room, Dutton-Waller Cottage Exterior, Dutton-Waller Cottage

I ran down to Tybee this evening to do a walk through of the beach house. Tonight I’m staying at a Mermaid Cottage called Dutton-Waller. Sigh. It’s true love. Built in 1938 and added to the National Register of Historic Places in 2006, DW is a beach house with soul. It’s the beach house The Breeze Inn wants to be when it grows up. This is yet another Jane Coslick/Diane Kaufman creation, and it was restored with so much love, so much thought, so much care, it makes my heart go pitter-patter. Tomorrow when it’s daylight, and before I go over to the Breeze, I’ll walk around and take some pics of all the glorious details to post. Until then, here’s a little cottage porn for your perusal. Dutton-Waller says don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m beautiful.

Boxing Day Greetings

The good china, silver and crystal are put away. The damask tablecloth and napkins are in a puddle on the floor, waiting to be dropped off at the cleaners. The fridge is full of left-overs. I’m sure I’ve gained ten pounds in December. The old mister is off golfing, which leaves me home alone to slog through 200 pages of copyedited manuscript–which have to be sent off to New York by this evening in order to make my deadline for THE FIXER UPPER. But it was a very, very wonderful Christmas. All my chicks were home to roost for Christmas, and they even went to the children’s mass with us on Christmas Eve. It’s always such a sweet service, with the little ones re-enacting the Christmas story. The whole family converged for Christmas dinner yesterday, and we gorged ourselves on standing rib roast, the old mister’s famous Christmas ducks, and all the trimmings. Afterwards, the younger set had a blast playing with my son-in-law’s new Wii Rockband game, and we nearly laughed ourselves sick watching them. So, back to work for me this morning, but first I thought I’d share some pix of our holiday decorating. After nearly killing myself decorating for our neighborhood tour of homes last year, I didn’t even put out half of my vintage Christmas collectibles this year, although it still looks like a lot. Old bottlebrush trees mixed in with my blue and white transferware on the Welsh cupboard in the dining room, gold and silver glass grape clusters mixed in with the mantel greenery, my goofy snowmen gathered in the antique secretary, and the old dime-store Christmas boxes on the sunroom table were among the collections that did get put out this year. I hope your holiday was just as blessed and filled with family, friends, love and laughter!

Darlene Love on Letterman 2-Nite: Must See TV!

Yessss! The night I wait for every Christmas season. Darlene Love singing the song she owns. CHRISTMAS: BABY PLEASE COME HOME. With the exception of last year, when the writer’s strike was going on, Darlene has appeared on Letterman’s Christmas show every year since 1986 to perform her masterpiece. Last year, thankfully, CBS showed a re-run of her 2006 performance. Folks, it don’t get no better than this. Just in case you are a pathetic little girly-man who has to turn in early this time of year, as a public service, here’s a link to Darlene rockin’ it in 2004. Fix yourself an adult beverage, kick back and relax. No, really. You’re welcome. It’s nothing at all. Merry Christmas!

The Breeze Inn Update

Jane Coslick’s Luscious Little Cottage, as seen in Jan. COASTAL LIVING

The utility room–with sink base awaiting the perfect vintage laundry sink

My washstand–too short, too small

The inspiration: Garner Cottage washstand

Kitchen sink–awaiting retro faucets

Our Tybee rose, Christmas week

Back bedroom, Morning Sky Blue ceiling

Cottage exterior awaiting new Aquatint color scheme

The old mister, his brother Bob and I drove down to Tybee early Friday to do a walk-through of the house. We thought the carpentry inside would be completed, and that our painters could get started. But we were mistaken. No single room in the house was complete, which was a disappointment. Still, there was big progress. The kitchen sink is in! The old mister gave me such grief over that old sink. It won’t fit. It’s too big. It’ll never work. Blahblahblah. He was sooooo wrong. The sink looks fabu, as you can plainly see. Can’t wait for the plumber to install the cool retro chrome faucet I picked out. In other news, the painters actually had started work. They’d patched all the bazillion nail holes in the 1×6 plank walls, primed the dark wood ceilings and even painted the ceilings in the two back bedrooms. Love, love love the ceiling color. It’s a Benjamin Moore shade called Morning Sky Blue, and we have used it in our Atlanta house. It makes ceilings look high and cool, like, well, a morning sky. And in such a small house–the Breeze is only 1,750 square feet, we wanted to maximize ceiling height. I finally found a wall color. Jane Coslick, who is the design whiz behind the most wonderful cottage restorations on Tybee, (and many of the Mermaid Cottage rentals) and who has been consulting on the Breeze, insisted the only suitable white was a shade called Glass of Milk. One problem—it’s a Martha Stewart for Sherwin-Williams color, and it’s out of production. Martha has changed paint houses twice since SW, and I couldn’t find anybody who’d share the formula. Luckily, the folks at the Benjamin Moore dealership in Savannah, on Waters Avenue, said they had an equivalent–called Moonlight White. How poetic does this sound? Moonlight White walls and Morning Sky Blue walls. With a dash of Shimmering Lime on the kitchen walls. I’d planned for all the other rooms to be Moonlight, but when I saw how pretty the Morning Sky Blue ceilings were, I changed my mind–and now our master bath walls will be that pretty blue. I love the idea of lolling back in my old clawfoot tub, looking at Morning Sky. The outside of the house, currently painted in a hideous combination I call Safety Yellow with Smurf Blue trim, is going to be painted a soft blue-green called Aquatint, with white trim. At Jane’s suggestion, all the exterior doors will be painted a hibiscus pink color called Blossom. On Saturday, the weather was unbelievably beautiful–74 and sunny. The guys went out fishing and I went hunting. For sinks. Yes. Again with the sinks. I bought an old metal washstand at an estate sale months ago, with the idea of installing it with a sink in Boomerang Boy’s bedroom. It’s an old Tybee beach house tradition to have sinks in bedrooms. My friends Ron and Leuveda have such an adorable sink in their Garner Cottage guest house, and I decided to copy it. But my washstand has two problems. It’s short. Boomerang Boy would have to get on his knees to brush his teeth in it. It needs to have five more inches added on. No problem-o. I found a welder who said he could easily do the job. Problem 2. The opening for the sink is only 14-3/4 inches. The smallest sink I could find anywhere in Savannah is 17 inches. So now I will have to turn to my friends at Sandpiper Plumbing Supply to see if they can hunt me up a weensy little sink.
My other sink search involves the ideal sink for the laundry room. Of course I want an old sink, the kind with the porcelain over cast iron finish, preferably with a drainboard, so that Mr. Mary Kay can clean fish in the laundry room, instead of splattering fishguts all over my pretty shimmering lime kitchen. But the sink cabinet is 36 inches. Closest vintage sink I’ve found so far is 42 inches. Ah well, the hunt will continue. In January, I’ll hit Scott’s Antique Market and look up the guys who sold me my other sink and clawfoot tub. Speaking of Scott’s, did I mention that Katie and I are going flea marketing there with mon amour Eddie Ross in January? Eat your hearts out, fellow junkers. But in the meantime, when we pulled up to the house Friday, I discovered that we have a rosebush in the front yard. I guess I overlooked the puny little stick last time I was there. But this time? Our rose–creamy yellow with peachy pink centers, was in full bloom. Five days before Christmas. I call it an omen of good things to come. P.S. To take a gander at one of Jane Coslick’s genius cottage restorations, check the Jan.Feb. issue of Coastal Living for their piece on Luscious Little Cottage.

Santa Claus sez: it’s Jeanie!

The crackerjack staff here at Mary Kay Andrews Global Industries employed a random number generator to pick the winner of my holiday book giveaway. Survey sez: It’s Jeanie–who was in the hospital without wi-fi for six days. Now that’s misery. Jeanie, hurry up and email marykayandrews@aol your snailmail addy so Grace can ship off your autographed copies of SAVANNAH BLUES, SAVANNAH BREEZE and BLUE CHRISTMAS. You can also hop over to Vintage Rescue Squad to see who won Vintage Sue’s giveaway of my books. PS, Jeanie, let me know how you want your books signed. Happy Holidays! Keep watching this space. Hope to give an update on the Tybee house later today, after I finish some last minute Christmas shopping.

Don’t forget the Holiday Giveaway!

Cmon, you guys! Leave a comment, and take a chance at winning autographed copies of my SAVANNAH trilogy: SAVANNAH BLUES, SAVANNAH BREEZE and BLUE CHRISTMAS. Contest ends tonight at midnight. In the meantime, we’re actually down at Tybee Island right now, to do a walk-through on The Breeze Inn. The bathrooms are tiled, painting has started…so close, and yet so far. Hope to post updated pix this weekend. In the meantime, Don’t forget to go over to Vintage Rescue Squad for a second chance to win. My blog-buddy Vintage Sue is a retro-riffic queen!

Holiday Skullduggery

Posse member Susie’s daughter Maggy was coming home from a semester abroad in Italy last night. It was a special occasion that called for a black bag job. We began reconnaissance of the ‘hood yesterday morning. Jinxie’s assignment was to find a discarded toilet. For years now, when any member of the posse has had an elegant party or event, posse members (and their husbands) have contributed a discarded commode to the outdoor decor. Jinxie radioed in at 1100 hours yesterday. Toilet in the dumpster on Stratford. Roger that. Jinx also requisitioned some large empty wine bottles from the recycling bin at the Farmer’s Market, along with some tasteful plastic poinsettias from the Dollar Store. She also created a rockin’ Welcome Home sign. (Jinx is a retired school teacher with many empty hours to fill.) When I got home from another mission last night (gift wrapping party at Katie’s house), the troops began to assemble. Mr. Mary Kay had liberated said commode from said dumpster. Jinx had the sign and the plastic posies. I contributed a fake white tree left over from last year’s Christmas tour, and the all-important cardboard Elvis. (Doesn’t everybody have a six-foot-tall cardboard Elvis in their basement?) We sent a scouting party over to Susie’s house to see if the target had vacated the premises for the airport. Three operatives; myself, Jinx and Shay, skulked around in the D’s backyard, checking for signs of occupancy. Curses! Maggy’s flight was delayed. Repeatedly. To be continued.

Call me Crazy–Another Holiday Giveaway

I met my new Washington DC-based friend Sue, of Vintage Rescue Squad through the blogosphere. She’s a fellow junker, with a kinky sense of humor much like my own. We had a fun phone discussion about junk n’ stuff recently, and afterwards, put our heads together to come up with another fun giveaway on both our blogs. So here’s the deal. You can read one of Sue’s recent posts here, then click over there to read her take on our conversation. She’ll send her blog buddies over here, and eventually, we’ll take over the entire blogversity. Ours will be a benevolent dictatorsip, with mandatory daily chocolate intake, twice-weekly junk breaks, and hot and cold running Diet Coke. Did I mention that ours will be a world free of pantyhose, meanies and frozen fishsticks? http://vintagerescue.typepad.com/vintage_rescue_squad/2008/12/nothing-but-smalls.html

Don’t forget to come back over here and leave a comment in order to be eligible for the giveaway: Autographed copies of my Savannah trilogy: SAVANNAH BLUES, SAVANNAH BREEZE and BLUE CHRISTMAS. Contest ends midnight, Sat. Dec. 20.

Christmas Junking

Boyz ‘n the hood: Kevin, Michael, Andy and Andrew
Andy and Andrew approve of their Christmas finery

Last week, just as Katie and I were about to leave for an estate sale, Boomerang Boy sauntered in with a request. “I need a jackass Christmas sweater for the P’s party,” he announced. “Something tacky.” Katie and I exchanged a knowing nod. “We’re on it,” Katie assured him. Thirty minutes later, we were at the sale. The late home-owner had been in her house for over sixty years. From the amount of mildew, dust and debris, we estimated it had last been cleaned sometime in the Nixon administration. Katie was appalled. My daughter is neat, orderly, organized. We fear it’s some sort of sleeper gene. I was thrilled. For you see, vintage treasure-seekers, mildew, dust and debris are the sure signs of a packrat. What you want to see at a good estate sale is a pile of old boxes and rotted army foot-lockers and broken furniture at the curb. What you do not want to see is a newly-mopped floor and a plastic bin full of eight-track tapes. Or a family member with a clipboard and a list of prices. Or, Gawd forbid, the latest Kovel’s price-guide in hand. When you approach an estate sale house, it’s always good to see more piles–maybe some rusty lawn furniture or crusty concrete planters or garden urns. We saw these things and more at last week’s sale. The house was a festival of what-nots, geegaws, whimdoodles, tchtoskes, flotsam and jetsam. Katie’s upper-lip curled. Her nostrils flared at the merest hint of mold. I, on the other hand, nearly leapt for joy, despite the cold I’d picked up in New York. We made our way upstairs. And sure enough, heaped on a bed amidst a mountain of clothing and household linens, we found the perfect vintage Christmas sweater. Three perfect sweaters, to be exact. Two of them were identical, intricate patterns of downhill skiiers, expertly executed, but in an unfortunate cheesey synthetic yarn. The third, green sweater, was really lovely, in a good quality yarn. All for the bargain price of five bucks. Downstairs, as we were paying for your goodies, the deceased’s son nodded approvingly. “My mom knit those sweaters for me,” he told us. “She loved to knit.” He, apparently, did not love her enough to keep the fruits of all those labors, but never mind. To the victors go the spoils. Afterwards, Katie took her outraged sensibilities and inflamed sinuses to bed. And Andy and his best buddies Andrew, Kevin and Michael all wore their “jackass” Christmas togs to the P’s party. Unfortunately, only Andy and Andrew were svelte enough to fit into the vintage sweaters. In fact, if you look closely, you’ll see that Andrew is wearing his red sweater under the green one. Michael did fit into a “jackass” plaid sportcoat his mom and I picked up for him at an earlier estate sale, and Kevin wore his own sweater. Pictured above are the four amigos, all friends since diaper days, enjoying some Christmas libations.

Holiday giveaway winner

Becky 0525–come on down! You’re the big winner of the holiday giveaway. The crackerjack MaryKayAndrews Global Industries Staff conducted a scientific computerized random drawing to determine the numerical superiority of your entry. (Ok, actually my son-in-law picked your number, while watching football yesterday,) Anyhow, the staff will mail off your book as soon as you email me your snailmail address at marykayandrews@aol.com . Today would be good, because the staff, namely Grace, only works for me on Mondays. In the meantime, keep watching this space for another cool holiday giveaway. Also, for some cool random holiday pix.