Nature walk

(I see you!)

Speaking of butterfly gardens, this morning Pierce and I actually went to one: the Judy Istock Butterfly Haven at the Peggy Notebaert Nature Museum in Lincoln Park.

Everything you need to know, here.

Pierce is down to one nap a day now, usually after lunch, and he is so mobile so we need to get out of the house in the am, if we can. Thus, these posts are going to start coming a tad later, unless I have a sitter or get myself out of bed before he wakes, which is ultimately my goal. As is his sleeping until 7am.

See? Mobile.

So, we took advantage of the glorious day and strolled down to the museum. I have driven, biked, run, and walked past this place at least a hundred times and have never once darkened the door. If you have young children and have not been here, you should go. And, I discovered, if you go on a Thursday and are an Illinois resident, admission is free.

My water baby kept trying to climb in the pond. I think he was going for the change. Thata boy.

I would recommend going early. We arrived at 8:57am and the doors opened at 9. I didn't know what to expect but the man at the desk suggested we go to the butterfly haven before the "groups" arrived. So we did. Butterflies everywhere! Pierce loved it and we had the place to ourselves for most of the time, which was nice.

Friends don't let friends steal butterflies.

Though two ladybugs may or may not have tagged along with us...

After the butterflies we strolled though the rest of the museum.

Have I told you about my slight bird obsession? Specifically, my tweety bird obsession? It took everything in my power not to purchase this gem at Home Goods two days ago:

Then, today, I came across this. Clearly, I have found my people:

I took Pierce out of the stroller three more times to splash in the RiverWorks exhibit and play in the Hands-on Habitat play area. We also walked along the Micole Birdwalk and perused the well-stocked gift area.

On the birdwalk- boardwalk- Beaches- Bette Midler/Barbara Hershey combo- Best. Casting. Ever. Can't resist:

(Blossom!)

We were in and out in an hour- perfect.

As I was walking through the park home I came across a favorite restaurant that I haven't been to in years, North Pond.

Image via Stay.com

Jack and I went there on one of our first dates and I once took my mom there for a very memorable brunch for Mother's Day. They have a wonderful seasonal menu and the location is second to none. I checked and they serve brunch on Sunday- a perfect post-museum stop for a mimosa and a bite that will guarantee a nice long afternoon nap for the whole family.

Xoxo,

Jenny

Stage 2

So, the stager was great.

Not only do I think we improved the space, but he also loved all of my things and it was actually kind of fun. Also, he reminded me of one of my new favorite characters:

He kept asking me where all of my bling was- “bring out the bling!"

I have bling. I love bling. I just thought I was supposed to put it all away. Oh no. Artfully placed accessories are the key to a finished space.

Yes, I know this, but for a showing? Isn’t this considered “junking it up"?

I guess it isn’t. Only time will tell. So crystal vases, my grandmother's random Lalique cat, colorful votives, silver platters and footed porcelain bowls with no clear purpose are now front and center.

Also- plants.

I knew this! And am slightly annoyed that my agents didn’t bring this guy in sooner. Why didn’t they tell me to get plants? I asked about plants and was told weren't necessary. And I was worried they would die when we were away, like the time we left for a week for a family wedding and returned to find our only pet, and plant (at the time), Chia Tweety, with a nest of grey/green dead ‘hair’.

Available here

It looked like Medusa and was so terrifying I had to pitch the whole thing.

Well, the obvious solution to this is FAKE plants, Dummy.

Really?

Yes, nobody cares. And try to stick with greens- resist the flowers.

So when I found myself at Home Goods a half an hour after he left, I grabbed an armload of 'plants' in the least offensive containers I could find and dashed out the door, $100 lighter. (There must be a less expensive source for fake plants but I was rushed, as we had a showing today).

He also moved the LOVE pillow to the bedroom. But isn't that cheesy? He gave me a look and I answered my own question- no cheesier than having a love pillow on my sofa. And it brought out some of the pink from the painting above our bed.

When I moved in, a framed copy of Jasper John's American Flag hung above the bed.

Then it moved to the Office. Now is lives in storage, and the butterfly garden painting hangs in it's place. I think it is okay for master bedrooms to be a little more feminine, and they often are. Perhaps because they feel very restful, like a sanctuary. Here are a few good examples from HB:

Photographed by Pieter Estersohn. Designed by Amanda Nisbet.

Photographed by Don Freeman. Designed by Robin Bell, Lake Bell's mother. We use the same upholsterer in NYC. She is a lovely woman.

Photograph by Simon Upton. Designed by Meg Braff.

Not sure if the butterfly painting will stay in our room after the move, but it looks good for now, especially against the walls in another Farrow and Ball color, a little lighter and greener than the Pale Powder, called Pavilion Blue:

Okay- I promise this is beautiful in person. And in a room with natural light. Otherwise it looks a tad too yellow, as it does here. Two words: Sample pots!

Such simple improvements that get lost among the huge heave-ho that happens before every showing.

All in all, it was a success. We hung a bunch of art and mirrors that I had put away, and added little decorative touches that I would have done on my own had our place not been on the market. I thought people wanted sterile. I guess clean, accessorized and green is more accurate. At least according to my Cam. A fresh set of eyes, indeed.

Oooh- just got a text from our agent- "showing went well- were in there for 20 mins- place looked good".

Fingers crossed.

Xox,

Jenny

Home Sweet Home

111 Archer Avenue, by Maxim Dalton

Well, we're back and it is raining. I suspect the rain has not stopped since we left.

I hate to confess this but as we still have not sold our apartment I am *GASP* meeting with a 'stager' today.

Can you sense the disdain in my voice?

The suggestion that I, with an aesthetic inclination and decades (okay- one decade) of experience decorating for the who's who of here and there, would not be able to stage my own apartment is absurd. Right? Right.

Well, my agent threw it out there and, after swallowing my pride, I thought why not? Fresh eyes are fresh eyes and I know that I am not the target audience for this newly constructed former bachelor pad blocks from Wrigley Field.

I am reminded of my first apartment in Chicago in a wonderful vintage building steps from the lake and Michigan Avenue

I never completely decorated it but furnished it with vintage finds and furniture passed down from my grandparents and parents and one or two random pieces I literally picked up off of the street. This wonderful chair upholstered in pink velvet with cabriole legs and this vintage bar cart/garden caddy that I salvaged from a dumpster down the street.

It was collected.

With wonderfully low, minimally-stuffed old school upholstery.

Sparse and a perhaps a little worn, but never shabby.

I even had this old TV with wood panelling, to blend in with the floors, surely. It recalled my parents first station wagon. And the beloved Woody.

(Ford used real wood through 1951)

And an age when wood paneling on everything to walls to cars to, yes, TVs, just felt right.

A friend told me he felt like he was on the set of the Royal Tenenbaums. Could you give me a higher compliment?

You could not.

The Royal Tenenbaum's Ballroom

And again at night. When I moved into my apartment the walls were pink- but a fleshier, beige-ier pink. Not okay. I painted them this pale blue/green/grey from Farrow and Ball:

Pale Powder 204.

I always put a swatch up on the walls before buying all of the paint and F&B sells paint pots in-store and online, here.

One more. Well, this room was inspired by the movie and created for Domino for their Jan/Feb 2006 issue. Check out this detail from the above painting of the Tenebaum's house, available here:

And the still:

You know I am not the only one obsessed with this Scalamandre paper- see a great post on it here.

(And this post by Apartment Therapy highlighting 20 great film interiors, including TRT. I am so on-trend.)

AND- this article from House and Garden, January 2007:

(My copy is in storage. Read more here.)

Anyway, while I would not have kept it this way forever, it was the perfect rental for a 23 year old me.

And I loved it.

I remember when my younger brother first came to visit.

He took in my artfully placed furniture, unique lighting with colorful shades, threadbare antique rugs and smartly arranged art and said, in all seriousness: "What you really need is a big leather sectional sofa and a huge flat screen. Then this place would be cool."

A dagger- I tell you- right through my heart.

Some people don't just get it. And I suspect those people might be my target buyers.

We shall see....

So I will let you know how it goes.

Xoxo,

Jenny

*I just heard that they are remaking Dirty Dancing. So soon? And yet, are we not surprised? Let's let this one sink in...

One word

La Cadeaux Tray

Well, the whole famdamily has arrived and the games have begun.

We started this morning at the beach and then drove into Sutton's Bay for the Art Fair that doesn't start until tomorrow. Alas.

This has been a wonderful trip for us- I have loved exploring the area and still have much to share when we get home next week.

Speaking of home, I went back to At Home and took another look at the display I had photographed for this post. I was surprised to realize that these charming plates were melamine!

Now- "French country" does not usually appeal to me unless we are planning a trip or recalling my Pierre Deux luggage from college. Though these dishes are so colorful and crisp and I can't decide which one I like the best. They do not have the saccharin sweetness of so many similar patterns and are inexpensive and indestructible to boot!

You can view the whole collection here.

I am telling you, people: Plastics.

But you don't need to hear that from me- go here for the real deal.

Have a great weekend!

Xox,

Jenny

Bowl cut

David Lory works his magic

Another favorite spot in Michigan is the Tamarack Gallery, located in Omena and online here.

There are so many cool things in this store that I can't cover everything in one post. So let me begin with the first objects of my desire.

On my initial trip to the gallery few years ago (while we were waiting for a table at The Knot across the street) I fell in love with these beautiful wooden bowls made by David Lory.

They are incredibly smooth, unusually thin and impossibly light- an extremely refined version of your average wooden salad bowl. Read all about David's painstaking process here.

They aren't cheap, with the smaller sizes costing around $100 and the larger ones between $250-$400, but they are so worth it.

You can imagine my delight when we received a medium sized bowl as a wedding present. I think serving pieces make the best gifts because they are so useful and you can never have enough.

My mom has a collection of beautiful wooden salad bowls, and when I first moved back to Chicago we would make caprese salads with little mozzarella balls and chopped grape tomatoes, putting each serving in its own big bowl. There is something very dramatic about this presentation- the red, white and green of the salad complimenting the patina of the wood.

I would love to amass a collection of these David Lory bowls and use them at a dinner party- they would look so good around the table-- each place set with a unique bowl-- and would also be great at a buffet because they are so light.

Some day.

Oh, and speaking of serving pieces, I didn't want to mention this in my earlier post and ruin the surprise but I bought this charming platter for my in-laws as a "thank you" for hosting us for the last month+ and they loved it!

Platter by Geri Mateus Studio

Oh, the gift of giving.

Okay, I have work to do and the family is starting to arrive!

Xoxo,

Jenny

Family ties

Yesterday was overcast and a little rainy so I went out and cleaned the boat in preparation for Jack's family reunion this weekend. Jack's family from his mothers side - his mother's mother's family, to be exact - has gathered every summer here in Michigan; this will be the 20th year since the tradition began.

I was thinking about how I have become part of this new family tree. Both of my parents have large extended families, but their immediate families are quite small and I cannot remember the last time we were all together. Maybe at my wedding...

My father passed away in 1992, so we were just a family of four until I met Jack. And then my mom met her husband, Bob, and his children. And Pierce was born. We've come a long way!

Family Tree

I have never known much about Norman Rockwell save for his prints I saw in my pediatricians office growing up.

Before the Shot

Then I came across this book at a friends apartment years ago and spent the entire night pouring over his wonderful illustrations.

You can buy it new for around $150, but used for only about $10, here. We have an original copy published in 1970 though the newer versions might be better.

There is something so wholesome and hopeful in his subjects, drawing out the good in people and highlighting the beauty and humor of every day activities.

I especially like his series of illustrations that tell a story:

The Gossips

A Day in the Life of a Boy

(A boy! Pierce!)

When I was at my in-laws in Florida over Thanksgiving, I discovered that they had the same book. I sat with two of my younger nieces and we spent over an hour looking at all of the images, discovering new details and little jokes that I had missed the first time around.

Happy Birthday Miss Jones

It was such a fun thing to share with them. I feel all warm and fuzzy just thinking about it.

Mr. Rockwell was often not taken seriously as a real "artist" and instead called an "illustrator" by his haters in attempt to dumb-down his magnificent talent. This did not bother him, though, as he referred to himself as an "illustrator" too.

I loved this line from art critic Peter Schjeldahl in a 1999 ArtNews Article: “Rockwell is terrific. It’s become too tedious to pretend he isn’t.”

I need to start using the word "terrific" more often.

Oh, and could I really have that heading without including this?

No, I could not.

Xox,

Jenny

Cider party

About a mile away from the 45 parallel, there is a little barn that produces the most delicious hard cider.

Read the endearing story of its creation here. Jack, we will ride through Europe on a bicycle built for two (with a sidecar for Pierce, of course)

I first tried the cider last week while pitting cherries for jam and later sitting on our friends' porch watching the sunset and eating pizza.

Sweet, but not too sweet, light and crisp- not thick. Also, for whatever reason, you can happily drink it all night without the after effects of this other jugged frenemy from my Freshman year in college:

You know I have me a sweet tooth so it should be no surprise that I love cider. I actually remember being a little girl and plotting that as an adult I would survive on Apple Juice and Pop Tarts.

When I was living in San Francisco after college, I used to pick up a few bottles of cider and go with friends to the paddle boats in Stow Lake in Golden Gate Park and feed pink popcorn to the ducks, like my mom did when she was living there as a child.

Stow Lake- it really is this pretty

So last weekend, when Jack and I were contemplating our lunch options, we took the back roads and came upon this special place. Jack was worried that I was dragging him to some tourist trap- on a Saturday- at noon- but when we showed up there was not another car in sight.

Literally.

I am convinced that the two people working there arrived on the bike and then mounted it above the entrance.

The bar

The gear

The glasses- and picked eggs, in the background, for the brave.

We stuck with peanuts.

We purchased a few different bottles and a jug of the Sweetheart, our favorite. It was a scorcher that day so when we came home we took the boat far out on the lake, shared a bottle of cider and jumped into the water.

I am telling you, my fully-realized Michigan summer is coming to fruition. And with only a week left I have to make every day count!

One more thing... my younger brother's first apartment out of college was with some friends in a coach house on Dickens, in Chicago. The perfect post-college pad in the heart of Lincoln Park. I will never forget the blend of horror and amusement that struck me when I received the evite to their cider party, the Dickens Cider Party.

I will just leave you with that.

Xox,

Jenny