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The Man in the Other Room

I left the life of a newspaper reporter way back in 1991, and since that time, I’ve worked at home, solo. My first “office” was our dining room table. Since our children were four and eight at the time, I pushed aside the mounds of unfolded laundry and toys, and wrote there. Later, I converted a closet into an office, setting up my very first huge desktop computer. Several years after that, my husband built me an office in a shed left-over from the 1996 Atlanta Olympics. It measured 10-by-10, was heated and cooled with a motel HVAC unit, and was frequently visited by bugs and birds, who figured out how to get in through the eaves. We moved to Raleigh, and I got a nicer, bigger office, in the back half of our garage, from a room that had once been a work-out room. Hah! When we moved back to Atlanta three years ago, my office was set up in a former sewing room. All this time, as I said, I’ve worked solo. But now there’s A MAN IN THE OTHER ROOM. Mr. Mary Kay is working from home these days. Gulp. Our home. His office abuts mine. I can hear the squeak of his office chair. He can hear me muttering under my breath. He doesn’t like the way I sort the mail. I don’t like having to share the morning paper. But we are working things out. Since he’s in such close proximity, he actually agreed to read the latest draft of my next book, and he had many amazingly helpful suggestions. Of course, some of them were amazingly pain-in-the-ass comments. I mean, come on, we’ve been married for centuries. Many days, he pokes his head in the door and wants to know my thoughts on lunch. Usually my thoughts run to….leftovers. Or M&Ms, but I never tell him about those M&M lunches. MMK’s thoughts run to something hot, and specially prepared, because for all these years, he’s used to business lunches. So…as I said, we’re working it out. Now that what I hope (and pray to GAWD) are the final revisions for SUMMER RENTAL are in, I’m noodling around with ideas for the next book. I’ve had this weird vision of an opening, and I’m trying to figure out what the story is. Yesterday, I sketched out some ideas, and showed them to him. His general reaction was…WTF? There’s no book here. Which was true,all I had was a name for the main character, and a description of her ex-husband, which was to say that he was an asshat–a phrase MMK had never heard before. Today was one of those very special days. I suggested a lunch place to him, barbecue. He agreed. On the way to the restaurant, I filled him in on the conversation I’d had with my agent, and told him I needed a family business for my character to run. I suggested one, and he quickly came up with another suggestion. WHICH WAS GENIUS. Truly. We went to lunch, and my mind was running a mile a minute with ways this could work. So. Maybe I’ll have to overlook the squeaky chair and the picky lunch notions. Yeah. I think I’ll keep him.

Winners of the Beach Basket Giveaway!

With summer is drawing to a close, I figured it was high time I awarded the prize in my Book Club Beach Basket Giveaway. As you may recall, I invited anyone in a book club to share their most memorable experience. Reading all the e-mails gave me a nice break in the action from revisions on my next novel. There were some great entries—many which reminded me of exactly what I love about taking part in the two book clubs that I’m in.

I heard all about cocktails and BBQs in backyards, on decks and porches while gathering to talk about books and life in general. I heard about Andrea and the Chick Lits’ trip to Savannah, GA, Kathy’s club’s adventures on Fripp Island, SC, the time Kristi’s club got snowed in at a ski house, and Felicia’s long-distance club’s first-ever in-person meeting in Texas. Your stories about your club saving you with their friendship, seeing you through cancer, and surprising you with baby showers warmed my heart and had me reflecting on the true blue friendships I’ve made through my own clubs. Your tales of potlucks with food and cocktails inspired by the books, of girls’ days out and movie nights made me look forward to whatever adventure my club’s next meeting will bring. Ann-Marie relayed a story about her club sharing bar space with the local men’s softball team which reminded me of a school dance with the boys lined up on one side of the gym and the girls on the other. (The more things change, the more they stay the same.) Several readers wrote in to say how much they enjoy having the author join their discussion by phone and Skype. I loved to hear this because, as an author, I so enjoy meeting with clubs who are discussing my books; as a reader, I’m thrilled when my own club manages to get an author to join our chat. I propose a toast to Jennifer who wrote that her favorite moment with her book club is trumped every time they meet again!

OK, now for the envelope please. Again I found myself with the familiar dilemma of not being able to pick just one winner. So I will be sending out two baskets.

The first goes to Michelle Swindle Pardue whose Barbie Book Club sounds like a heckuva good time to me. OK, so they did read my very own Savannah Breeze on a group trip to Tybee Island, GA, but their excellent taste in books and getaway destinations did not sway my decision. It was their incredible spunk, their “togo Bloody Marys” fixed out of the trunk of a car, and their “happy place” under a pink and green beach umbrella that really got me.

The second winner is Sheila DeChantal who wrote in about The Bookies’ annual tradition of crowning a queen at an event complete with formal wear and a talent competition. The queen gets to be the tie-breaking decision on book selections and meeting places for the entire next year. Sheila, I bow to you and your fellow members.

Congratulations to Michelle and Sheila. Enjoy the baskets with your clubs in good health. Thanks to everyone for entering. And for anyone who is not already subscribed to my e-mail list, be sure to sign up. Another newsletter will be coming out soon featuring a recipe, a giveaway, and other good stuff.

Cheers!
MKA

Better Living through Chemistry


Innocent-looking Chemcraft chemistry set

Friday’s round of estate sales started with an early-morning outing to the far suburbs of Atlanta, which was unusual for me, since I usually stay ITP–or inside the perimenter. The sale was in a subdivision of large newish homes–again, not somewhere I normally stray, simply because I assume the good old stuff will be found in dinky cottages in in-town neighborhoods. But the sale ad looked promising, so off we went. Everything was clean and well-organized, laid out in the large driveway and garage–again, not the norm. I’ve gotten so I actually don’t trust a potential sale unless there’s a towering pile of mouldering mattresses at the curb, a dumpster in the front yard, and the heady aroma of cat piss and mildew wafting from the front door. Can you believe it–the pros running the sale had a basket of fresh-baked brownies and cold complimentary bottles of water at the cash-out table. Say what??? I was highly suspicious, to say the least. But the stuff was actually pretty good, and the prices were only slightly inflated.

Willlow child’s rocker, globe, pick-up stix

I managed to score a willow child’s rocking chair, a Replogle globe, the USA pottery pitcher and creamer, a Pickup-Stix game, a repro ice tea decanter, and an intriguing 1940s Chemcraft chemistry set. Went on to another sale, where I found an awesome hand-caned shabby chic chair and a pair of cool industrial looking lab stools.

Shabby chic cane chair & ice tea decanter

Still later in the day, at an intown sale, I bought a huge chippy picture frame, and what I’m assuming is a repro tin Coke bottle thermometer.
Once I got home, I took a good look at the Chemistry set and was astonished to find that it promises fun with atomic energy! WTF? There are lots of nifty test tubes and beakers and stoppered bottles of chemicals. Oh yeah, and a bottle containing an alleged URANIUM ORE as well as a Radio Active Screen which looks a lot like cardboard to me.


Hand-dandy radio-active screen plus test-tubes


Cork-stoppered glass bottles of chemicals

Um, yikes. I’m actually having second thoughts about putting this in my booth at Seaside Sisters because I’m afraid some little kid (or Tybee miscreant) will yank it down off a shelf and smash all the glass bottles–or swallow some of the alleged strontium, not to mention accidentally set off some not-so-fun nuclear incident. So…all you pro junkers out there–any suggestions on how to sell a vintage chemistry set without harming life on this planet as we know it?

The Kindness of Strangers

Lick-skillet Love
On Friday I went tooling around to some estate sales. At the last one of the day, I was at a sale with ridiculous prices. All I bought was a $7 skillet for The Breeze Inn, and a pair of ’40s black satin slips. As I was leaving two cheerful women were loading their SUV with rakes and shovels that they’d bought. “What’d ya get?” they called. When I told them I’d bought a skillet, one of them asked “want another?”. Well, sure! They told me they’d just found two old skillets on a curb, and although they were going to keep the smaller one, they’d be happy to GIVE me the larger one. “Follow us,” they said, telling me they lived just around the corner. So I drove around the corner, pulling into their drive-in behind them. And the random thought occurred to me: what if these were not harmless, slightly butch-looking women? What if they were serial psycho killers? What if they were planning to lure me into their home with promises of a free skillet, and instead planned to sell me into white slavery? I know, I am slightly, er, OVERAGED for white slavery, but these are the things that occur to somebody who makes a living making up stuff. So I called Mr. Mary Kay and read him their license-tag. “If I don’t come home,” I told him, “call the cops!”. Of course, they came out moments later with the promised skillet. It had a little rust, but we cleaned it up and seasoned it in the oven with some vegetable oil, and it is now good as new–ready for the next fish-fry at The Breeze Inn. And I have a new appreciation for the kindness of strangers. As long as I have their license tag written down.

A Junker’s Price Puzzle

Stangl vase, 10-inch, matte turquoise

Tiny Steiff Elephant, minus tusks

Tonka stake-truck–early 1960s?

When I got home from Tybee on Monday, I was delighted to find an email from my favorite estate sale dealer, Vicki, about a rarity–a Tuesday estate sale. Of course, I rushed over there Tuesday morning. The street was swarming with cars, and the yard with shoppers, because it was a driveway sale. Lots of early shoppers had already picked over the goods, but I managed to score a few things. The three things I’m going to show you were such good buys–and so collectible–I think–that I’m pondering how to price them. The little Steiff elephant still has his ear-button, but the pads on his feet are worn through to the straw stuffing, and he’s apparently missing his tusks, although he does still have his red felt saddle blanket. I’ve checked eBay prices, but particularly for the Stangl vase, which has no chips or cracks, I can’t find anything really comparable. I’m stumped on the Tonka truck, too. From looking at various toy sites, I’m thinking this guy was made in the early ’60s, maybe ’63 or ’64. The tires are rubber, and the windshield appears to be plastic. There isn’t a rear tailgate on the truck bed, not sure if it’s missing, or how that would affect price. Any suggestions from my junker buddies out there in blogland would be greatly appreciated.

I’m baaaaack



Joel and Mr. Mary Kay with the pause that refreshes



So sorry for the interruption in bloggosity. What with finishing revisions for TFB (the friggin’ book), construction projects at The Breeze Inn, and a LOT of company, I sorta got sidetracked. But no worries. I’m back, and ready to “share”–as they say in school these days. First off, here’s a look at the construction projects completed by Mr. Mary Kay and good friend Joel, who came in from Birmingham just to tackle the difficult, sweaty stuff.

The challenge was to enclose our skanky old carport into a garage, where we can secure our bikes, beach carts, yard tools and yes, my extra junk inventory for my booth at Seaside Sisters. After taking a look around at lots of the original Tybee raised cottages on the island, MMK decided to give our humble garage the same kind of look by enclosing the carport with 1-by-4 vertical boards. He and Joel sunk posts in concrete, then built headers and footers, and screwed down the boards. They even built nifty barn-doors so we can lock up our stuff. Cool, huh?



Our new Garage Mahal

Once the garage was complete, they turned to the outdoor shower. We’d had an area beside the screened porch at The Breeze Inn plumbed with a shower two years ago when we were restoring the house, but had never gotten around to building an enclosure. Again, they sunk posts in concrete, then built the enclosure. For doors, they incorporated two of the old wooden shutters I’d been hoarding from my last trip to the Brimfield Antique Market. Then, they put down a boatload of concrete pavers for the floor of the shower and the area next to the garage.



Pam checks out the new shower

Finally, for privacy, Mr. Mary Kay put up a towel rod on the door, so that someone who decides to shower in the buff can simply drape their towel over the crescent-moon cut-outs in the shower door. He also installed four towel or robe hooks made from four old chrome faucets i’d been hoarding from an Atlanta estate sale.



Old faucets make great towel hooks

Once the outdoor projects were finished, we decided to play catch-up inside. In the dining room, we hung the two gorgeous bird paintings I bought in Destin while I was on book tour in July, and created a new sleeping area downstairs, moving furniture around and de-cluttering. For the bed there, I bought a pair of beat-up mahogany headboards at the Scott Antique Market for $50 in August. I painted them the same bright turquoise as the hall tree in that same area, and the Mister hooked them up with a pair of salvaged bed rails from our basement in Atlanta. We took a trip into Savannah and bought a nice new pillow-top mattress, and a pair of new feather pillows and mattress pad at Homegoods. And then the fun began. Rummaging around the closets and crannies at The Breeze Inn, I found a perfect white matlesse bedspread from a forgotten yard sale, two huge linen euroshams with a nautical blue piping, a pair of blue and white ticking striped shams, and yet another pair of blue and white quilted shams left-over from the Better Homes and Gardens shoot last summer. Accessorized with a quilt bought at an antique shop in Tennessee last summer, I think the bed looks pretty and inviting. Best of all was the fact that I had all the bed linens pre-hoarded, er, stashed.



We finished the new sleeping area with only hours to spare before my college roomies from UGA arrived for our chick weekend. We had a great time reconnecting. All of us met when we were living in Creswell Hall at UGA in 1974–except for Sheryl, who roomed with some of us our junior year. Pam and friend Linda are south Georgia girls who come from farming backgrounds. Pam arrived with the best kind of hostess gifts–food! Pecans from her orchard, gorgeous fat blackberries from a friend’s garden, and frozen corn she’d put up herself. We had two nights of feasting. Friday night MMK and I fixed shrimp and grits with shrimp right off the Lazaretto Creek boats.



Mr. Mary Kay’s Really Big Redfish

On Saturday, he went fishing and caught a gorgeous redfish, which he fried up for the girls. A Tybee neighbor gifted us with okra from his garden, which Linda expertly fried up. Pam cooked her creamed corn, and baked an awesome peach and blackberry cobbler for dessert.

A feast fit for old friends

Sunday morning, we prevailed on Pam to fix us homemade biscuits and sausage before we walked down to the beach for an hour or two. We had such a fun time we’re already plotting our next getaway. And Mr. Mary Kay, who’d originally planned to vacate the premises when the girls arrived, will definitely be part of the proceedings again–because who else is going to provide us with seafood? Or build a garage? Or help us figure out the remote control. Ya see, it really is good to have man around the cottage.

Close Cover Before Striking


All in a weekend’s junking

For a brief, shining moment this week, I thought I was done with TFB. (The Friggin’ Book.) Then came a phone call Friday, from my editor, and a six-page edit letter explaining what further trimming and tweaking is needed for the manuscript in ROUND TWO. Ah well. Another opportunity for greatness, right? In between, editorial discussions, I managed to sneak in a little junking at a couple of estate sales and this month’s Scott’s Antique Market.

Posse member Susie and I did a quick sweep at Scott’s on Thursday, which is set-up day. I spied this stuffed wolf, or is it a coyote? peeking out of a dealer’s van.

Taxidermy coyote? peeking out of van at Scott’s Market

The only thing I bought was a vintage cabinet card of a solemn little boy dressed in a sailor suit. I was so struck by his charm that I immediately went home and scored four more little sailor children from eBay and Etsy. They’ll either join this lil’ fella in our nautical bedroom at The Breeze Inn, or make a collection at my booth at Seaside Sisters. I do love a theme, ya know–which is why I have dozens of vintage beach and bathing suit photos scattered around the Breeze and my booth. In fact, I bought a few more little black and white beach snaps to add to the goodness in the booth.


A solemn little sailor boy
On Friday, Mr. Mary Kay made a rare outing to an estate sale with me. He was looking for a power tool for an upcoming construction project at the Breeze, but the tool that was advertised was not the right thing. Still, he was surprisingly patient while I cruised through the sale. I did manage to snag a pair of scrolly wrought iron planter thingies, but the big buy of the day was a set of 16 vintage Griffith’s milk glass spice jars. After some research on eBay I was thrilled to learn that I’d snagged a rarity–16–and they all have their original paper labels intact. They are going right to my booth!

Despite my vow to stay home and work this morning, I caved and went back to Scott’s. But hey, I got home by noon. I did a fast tour of the outdoor dealers and got a neat pre-1960s globe, a vintage framed Girl Scout photo (Girl Scouts were founded in Savannah, you know), and the best buy of the day, an old jar with wire bail handle, full of old matchbook covers. I had the best time sorting through them when I got home. There are several covers for Atlanta area hotels and restaurants, including one from a furniture store that was located right in my little bitty town, as well as covers from Ohio, California and New York. But the best one of all–this little beauty, which is apparently an ad for uh, “social responsibility”. Love the graphics and the slogan–“You’re no MATCH…Don’t get Burned…Use Cover. And the flip side? “…for V.D. NO IS THE BEST TACTIC…The Next Prophyactic.” Couldn’t have said it better myself!


Don’t get burned…or VD!

Chairish is the word I use to describe

The Goldilocks approach to junking for chairs

Yes, I know I should have stayed home this morning to finish what my agent and I have come to call TFB–a mysterious acronym for The Friggin’ Book. Only we use a very bad word instead of friggin’. But I stayed home yesterday, ignoring the call of several promising estate sales. And I worked very, very hard all week long, trying to finish revisions of TFB. And I swear, I am this close. But all work and no junking makes MKA a very cranky girl. So posse member Shay and I saddled up and set out this morning for an estate sale in Buckhead, run by Vicki. We love Vicki’s sales, because she gets down to business. Vicki greeted me this morning with the news that she liked the sex scenes in LITTLE BITTY LIES, which she’d just finished reading at the beach, which made us both giggle like naughty school-girls. We traded some more naughty gossip, and then I got down to junking. My first purchase was the little wicker boudoir chair above. Later I found the fun green butterfly chair in the garage. My parents had a pair of those when I was a kid in the ’60s, in a hip orange, so I was happy to find this ‘lil green butterfly, which will join the wicker chair at my booth at Seaside Sisters. I was getting ready to check out when I spotted a trunk which Vicki had just unearthed. Digging around inside, I came up with the adorable plush baby blanket from the ’50s, which is in new condition. And then I found the fun chenille high school letters. Remembering our naughty talk, I suggested that somebody could pin those letters on their sweater and tell everybody they lettered in ‘SLUT’ in high school. Immediately, I realized this is a line I could use in my new book–so you see, junking is a valuable creative outlet for writers. At least that’s what I tell myself. We motored on to another sale, which was a bust, except that it’s always fun to see estate sale ladies like Ann and Dell and Myrtice. And at the last sale of the day, I struck gold with this primo newly slipcovered wing chair. It’s done in great beachy blue stripes and looks like it just came from a showroom. Yay me! If I could find a spot in The Breeze Inn for this lovely, I would, but I think we’ve got a gracious plenty of chairs there, so this puppy will be heading down to my Seaside Sisters booth next weekend. And in the meantime, I’ll have it to “chairish” for at least a week, until I send this and my other treasures off to worthy new homes. Also, now that my creative juices have been re-filled, I’ll just finish TFB.

We Interrupt this Blog

MKA’s McGyvered Manuscript

News bulletin. Your erstwhile blogger is in revision hell. She is overdue, cranky, pathetically needy. Her newest novel is printed out, its chapters scattered all over her sunroom floor, with giant post-it notes telling her what those chapters are trying to accomplish. Her characters are balking at letting their story go, and her editor, up there in New York, is tapping her foot impatiently, beating out a Morse code-like message that seems to say ‘FINISH THE DAMNED BOOK, ALREADY.’ In short, your correspondent is not herself.


The curb sofa that got away

How do we know this? Because she missed out on this super-swell curbside bonanza 1940s sofa this week. Can you believe it? She walked past it, photographed it with Mr. Mary Kay’s cellphone, then strolled home and waited a fateful twenty minutes or more before going back to pick it up in the family truck. Of course, by the time she got her rear in gear and got back there, another neighborhood scavenger was already loading said sofa in her vehicle. Sob. So yes, dear reader, this is what I do, the sacrifice I make for art. Be assured, however, that the revisions are underway, and I intend to make those pesky characters toe the line. Because there’s an estate sale Friday, and there’s a limit to what one poor author can endure.

Junk Throwdown Winners

Wow! After my junk buddy Sue from Vintage Rescue Squad joined me for a junk throwdown at Scott’s Antique Market a couple weeks ago, we invited y’all to guess whose haul was whose. Guess we must be pretty predictable, because just about everybody was able to connect the dots. If you were not correct, or didn’t guess, my haul was A–the $10 bar cart and 3 blue Ball jars with zinc tops for $10, and Sue’s was the vintage basketball poster and dominoes. By divine intervention (meaning I asked Mr. Mary Kay to give me a random number) the winner of my The Fixer Upper beach basket o’ goodness is Mona Kay from Creating A Vintage Life.
Sue, despite a vicious case of poison ivy, managed to do a random drawing and chose Angie at http://www.fabulousthriftyfinds.blogspot.com/ as the recipient of her big box o’ emphera.
Thanks everybody, for playing along, and be sure to watch next time for our interstate spelling bee and trivia fest. (Kidding, although I’m thinkin’ she’d probably whoop my azz at spelling, since she was an English major, although I might give her a run for her money with trivia, since my so-called brain is a goldmine of useless information.)