My Chandelier

My daughter Hannah made me a beautiful chandelier. (Read about it here)

This past Saturday, Tim-the-Tool-Man-Husband finally had time to wire and hang it in my dining room! It is a sparkly gorgeous work of art, and the quality of the light in that room is exactly what I have been longing for. On the cloudiest day (we had storms here in East Tennessee this afternoon) my dining room looks like a clear, sunny summertime morning.

Beautiful, bright, crisp light. A must for me, in this season of my life.

Take a look:


I think rooms are not complete without something old and scuffed, paired with something fancy and shiny. Yin and Yang. Leather and Lace. Pearls and Jeans. Marrying the opposite textures creates such interest, whether in fashion or interior design.

My floors are (purposefully) worn and scuffed oak. My table is an oak antique. And on the wall, I have two sunburst-style grapevine wreaths. The sparkle of the girly chandelier balances out the scuffed masculinity of the wood and the grapevine. Walls are the white neutral backdrop that I have come to require.



"Hey baby, he's my handyman..."




(In the corner, behind the pocket parrot's cage, is a walnut room divider...put there to add warmth and texture.) All this room needs now is the right area rug, and a rustic, beautiful bird cage. With the right finishing touches, this will be the French/Swedish/Gustavian/Ecclectic/Undecorated look I've been going for.

I told you Hannah is a gifted designer.

(Real) Birdcages As a Design Element - Cachepot of Knoxville, TN

Long ago, I promised you a visit to a special shop. I was dying to show you the most beautiful, real bird cage I've ever seen - one used as a design element.

Well, it sort of had to be today. Why today, I honestly don't know.

There has to be some name for it - this disorder I seem to have that puts me at the utter mercy of my impulses. I was dressed like I was running errands for Old McDonald's Farm. I was having a bad hair day. There was no rhyme nor reason for my sudden urge to keep my promise to show you this bird cage...right now.

No rhyme, no reason....and no camera. I didn't have my SLR. Just my camera phone.

I know, right? Oh well. Come with me to Cachepot - a completely lovely and unusual floral/garden design shop. It is tucked into the corner-end of a row of other unique and special shops, on Kingston Pike in Knoxville, Tennessee.

Here is what you see, when you first walk in: Moody lighting. Swedish/Gustavian inspired whites, creams, grays and the barest kisses of blue. This is a tablescape that sits between the bare branched trees...notice how another chair is used on top of the table, to add height to the display.

Turn to your left, and this is what you see:

(Ignore scary looking woman, who looks like she is running farm errands. She is not for sale.) This mirror...well, words fail me. Warning: "beautiful" is going to be an overused adjective in this post.

Turn to your right, and this is what you'll see:

Be. Still. My. Heart. Do you see the birdcage? (With yellow orchids in it...) The most-visited post on this blog is my post on real bird cages, used as a design element (a couple thousand views and counting). I love this cage so much, I wish I could date it. If I weren't already married to the Preacher, I'd marry it. And the framed letters on the wall behind it?

Beautiful.

Please note: I am saving the best for last. As pretty as this cage is, it isn't "the one". I'll show you the birdcage I promised to show you at the end, here. Hang with me.

More letter love...and a look at the birdcage roof...

...and the glass wall pockets, filled with orchids... ...and the chair with the beautiful plate and bird bath filled with the beautiful glass wall pockets - those wall pockets that are just waiting to be hung in my house and filled with my favorite flowers. The whole thing? Yes, please. I'll take all of it. I'll even take that cracked concrete floor. It is all perfect.

I think this wants to be tucked in the corner of my future office/sewing room. With my pink wool snood around its neck.

You do realize Cachepot has a whole outdoor area for us to peruse, don't you? You can hear the soothing trickle of the fountains as you walk through the shop.

...and you can purchase flowers and flower arrangements here. This is the flower 'fridge. I was told it was spare pick'ins today, but I still thought this was...beautiful.

::cough:: I warned you about my use of that word.

But wait. There's more. I'm serious. There's more hydrangeas. They go all the way around that corner you see there... ...more flowers. I think these were going to be used in some arrangements that someone had ordered.

One of the pillars that lead to the back area, where Cachepot Magic happens, I suppose. I didn't go past the pillars, since I tend never to break rules and all. And stuff.

Stop laughing. I'm a preacher's wife. We don't break rules and tell people about it. (I really didn't go back there. Promise. But I wanted to...because I'm curious like that.)

Can you even stand the un-Photo-Shopped beauty of the deep green, and the creamy-white hydrangea, popping against all that pale neutral beautifulness? And all that glass...vignettes like this were everywhere.

Would you like a mini orchid? I am going back for one or forty-seven of these. Maybe a gray wool-felt cachepot is more to your liking? What about all those aged, rusted corroded wire thingeys? It is all for sale. Trust me - rusted corroded aged wire thingeys are all the rage. I have some. I want some more. The "greenhouse" in the center of the shop - full of orchids, ferns, vines and several other varieties of plants. Note: rusted, aged, corroded metal.

And now. The part you've all been waiting for. The most beautiful (real) birdcage ever. Anywhere. Ever, ever.

Are you ready?

Are you sure?

Are you sitting down? (Okay, I'll stop.)

If you were standing inside the greenhouse, this is the birdcage on the opposite wall.


Here is one view of the cage...

...and from the other side...

...a close up... And just one more, for good measure:

Thanks for stopping by. I hope you have enjoyed our visit to Cachepot in Knoxville, as much as I enjoyed my impulsive photo shoot.

I arrived feeling harried and a bit scurried with a lot on my Preacher's Wife Mind. I left feeling tranquil. I realized, as I drove home, that I was humming "Somewhere Over the Rainbow".

How many places do that for you?



Cachepot
(865)212-2225
5508 Kingston Pike
Knoxville, Tennessee 37919

Ephesians... and not just "adequate grace"...ABUNDANT GRACE!

Did you realize that, by grace, God decided - long ago! before the foundation of the world! - that you would be holy and without blame before Him, as an object of His love?

Before you could have ever worked a righteous work, before you could perfect your own holiness, before you could sin, sweat, or be sincere, God had already decided that you will be loved and holy and blameless. Your sins were forgiven at the cross. The anger of God was spent on the cross. Jesus took the whole penalty - not just part of it.

How do we react to this good news? How do we receive it? With deep, humble thanks. Your sins...all of them....were forgiven, when Christ was crucified on your behalf.

How do you live and walk in this good news? You get in a church that preaches the gospel. Where grace is preached in all its glory. Week by week, day by day, you sit under the full and true preaching and teaching of the gospel, and over time, your mind becomes renewed. The truth of your "so great a salvation" will begin to affect more than your destiny. It will begin to deeply affect your day.

When you renew your mind in the truth of your inheritance, the truth of your utter freedom from the condemnation that comes with the law, Ephesians 1 will blow your mind. I'm in love with it...I've been in it (for the fiftieth time) for two days already. Enjoy!

...He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before Him in love, having predestined us to adoption as sons by Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the good pleasure of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, by which He has made us accepted in the Beloved. In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of His grace,which He made to abound toward us in all wisdom and prudence...

Friends - this is called "The Finished Work of Christ". Grace plus nothing. If you renew the spirit of your mind in these truths, your foot cannot be moved off of them. You will live securely. You will live so abundantly and sacrificially and joyfully.

You come to Christ through Grace Plus Nothing, and in time, God will fashion you into a son or daughter that walks in Grace Plus Everything. When we come through the one, the narrow door, by grace through faith, we get all of Him on the other side.

He is our sanctification. All of Him, none of us. Such a glorious unbalanced stunning exchange. I long for the Good News of the Gospel to actually be the Good News God means for it to be. He entrusted it to those first apostles, and it behooves us to get back to the things they taught about the New Covenant, salvation, grace, and our response to the love of God.

The Mama Roo Swing

This is the way-cool baby swing I told you about. (I'm hoping this YouTube video embeds properly!) This is Jeremiah Bailey's swing - called "The Mama Roo Swing". It can play your music from your ipod, and the movement of this swing is amazing...specially designed to soothe babies.

My, how times have changed.

24 years ago when my twin girls were born, it was a big advance to have one of the first battery powered infant swings. And I did have one. One. It was purchased gently used and given to me, a gift from our then-pastor's wife Sandi Fatow. The other was also a gift, a wind-up model. Those two little swings sat, side by side, in our tiny living room, for months. I used them every single day, as you could well imagine....two babies, with no one available to help consistently. Those swings were my lifeline.

Three cheers for technology! Here's hoping this sweet, amazing swing will give Jeremiah hours of entertainment and great napping...all while NOT playing those annoying, mechanized, computerized baby ditties.

The Preacher's Wife Makes Mac N' Cheese

First, you pop your tiny net book on the counter, because it is so much smaller than your laptop...

...and so that you can (not) follow the recipe you have chosen.

Because you realize that you don't have the entire amount of cream cheese this recipe calls for, and this recipe does not include Asiago (which you love), and you want to use heavy cream instead of milk, and you are thinking that white pepper will be better than regular ol' black pepper.

Next step: Toss recipe, and start cooking this stuff your way.


peel the wax from your Gouda cheese...("eatin' Gouda cheese, eatin' Gouda cheese, goodness how delicious, eatin' Gouda cheese!" ...nevermind...you never heard of the "Goober Peas" song, have you?)


grate about this much. (okay, okay...about 1/2 to 3/4 of a cup)




Get out your Asiago...ooooh, baby. Then, grate about this much:


Okay, okay - about 1/2 a cup! Gosh, you are demanding. I can't believe you actually want correct amounts.

Next, get out your husband's stash of Cracker Barrel cheddar, and use it. Because you love him, and you are very concerned for his health. He shouldn't be eating all that cheese by himself.




Grate nearly all his cheddar. But do save him a tiny bite.

Then again...


Nah. Sorry honey. You really shouldn't eat too much cheese.



Then, because you are a Goober-Blogger-Geek, you gather all your ingredients together. For the money shot. Yeah. Then, realize you forgot to include the white pepper. No matter, you'll slip it in a photo, later on.



Next, melt your cream cheese (only 4 ounces) and Asiago and Gouda cheeses in 2 cups of cream. Okay, a cup and a half of cream, and a half cup of skim. Feel better?



Then, melt your cheddar.



Add about 1/4 tsp. white pepper. (I promise, that is white pepper.) Then, salt generously, using coarse salt. I'm sorry, I wish I could be more precise. I grab a palm of salt, and then I take pinches out of my palm. Just taste as you salt. Remember - you can add salt, but you can't take it away.



Next, you realize you forgot to cut your cream cheese up into little bits before tossing it in the saucepan. So you find the lumps and try to smoosh them smooth, to speed up the melting process.

Just keepin' it real, people. Folks don't trust me for no good reason. Um. Meaning they DO trust me for very good reason. Ohlord...am I making sense?



Pour creamy awesomeness over your undercooked noodles. Very Al' Dente noodles. Trust me. You got good reason to trust me (see picture above). I didn't take a picture of boiling noodles...I didn't want to insult your intelligence.

At this point, feel free to slip in your shameless husband-grandson plug:



And now, back to your regularly scheduled program.

Bake the creamy heavenly deliciousness for about a half an hour, at 350. Then, you will enjoy this:



Mmmmm.

You really should drop by for a little sustenance. We'll make room at the table for you.

My sweet, sweet grandson in a captured moment of limp bliss, after a busy day...

"Boys are found everywhere -- on top of, underneath, inside of, climbing on, swinging from, running around or jumping to. Mothers love them, little girls hate them, older sisters and brothers tolerate them, adults ignore them and Heaven protects them. A boy is Truth with dirt on its face, Beauty with a cut on its finger, Wisdom with bubble gum in its hair and the Hope of the future with a frog in its pocket."

Alan Marshall Beck

Swedish Style? French Country?

I'm in love with two seemingly unrelated styles. Which one to commit to? Which one is the better looking? Which one would make a worthy partner? Which one to wake up to each morning?

Lover's dilemma. I am truly torn between two aesthetics: French Country Farmhouse....and Swedish/Gustavian.

I used to like the whole rustic/lake house vibe. Then I had a brief fling with Arts and Crafts style...but both rustic and Craftsman = too much wood. Way too much wood. The older I get, the more I don't want lots of brown wood. I need ethereal, romantic, lovely light. I need light neutral wall surfaces and a few furniture pieces painted white.

Then I sort of enjoyed a cottage style - but that style can gravitate to cutesy, and I am a big believer in the axiom "cutesy kills". (Okay, so maybe no one else has said that besides me, but I swear it is true.) And the whole cottage vibe tends to be more cluttered than I'd like.

For a long time now - much longer than I've let on, I've been loving the two styles French Country, and Swedish.

So. Much like I would if I were the type to be in love with two men (which I'm definitely not...I am The Preacher's Wife heart and soul - there is no man on earth I respect and love more), if I were, I would examine the basic philosophy of each one, and try to determine which one resonates with me the most deeply.

Carl Larsson, of the Swedish style, declared himself an enemy of ”gaudy rubbish and tinseled knickknacks.” That sort of makes me hate my Easter/Resurrection tree, but hey...I'm deep in grandbaby mode. I am living this season of little ones to the hilt while it lasts...so get this: He also said, and I quote, "A home is not some lifeless object, but is alive and like all living things it must change from moment to moment.” Easter Tree stays. It will go away in May and come back out next March. My home is alive. I love it.

That is a design philosophy I want making my breakfast every morning. The Swedish design is so, so, so good looking. Lord knows, I gotta have good looking. Thank God for good looking.

(Image of the Swedish Style from Country Living) Mmmmm-mmmmmm-MMMMM. That clock, that nubbly worn table covering. I know. Nubbly is not a word in most people's vocabulary. It is my blog, so deal with it.

Since Swedish style leans more towards light colors, here is an even better example:

Oh. So good looking. The beat up doors and floors...the clock...the light walls...the leggy furniture...that chandelier. (Secret: I have one. Prettier than the one in this picture. It is waiting for Tim to wire it and place it in my dining room ceiling. God is good to His children. Amen.) I do love me some beat up floors and a fancy chandelier together.

Here is a French Country kitchen:

No granite - instead, the counters are wood. (Granite is so last decade, anyhow. At least one of the biggest design blogs out there says so. Instead, think quartz or marble or wood or limestone. I say wood.) Copper pots. Light colors, painted cabinets.

More French country:



The elements of French Country are time-worn, beautiful and functional. Think of light spaces. Of bringing the garden into the house. Of old furniture. Chipped paint. Texture. Layers of natural fabrics. The French value the handmade and the heirloom, so things rarely match, and, in fact, the look of a well-worn piece of furniture is the favored aesthetic.

I'm still torn. There are some similarities - the graceful curves, the leggy furniture pieces, the well-worn surfaces. But there are big differences. I'm not wild about all the stenciling found in rustic Swedish/Gustavian style, nor am I crazy about the gilded, too colorful nature of some French country.

I am going to try to combine the best qualities of both design suitors, and live with both.

Both, I say. I shan't choose. You can't make me. So there is no name for this new style I am forging. So what. No one has ever been able to label me or my style under any particular category. I'm your generic Sanguine/Choleric/Melancholy, with the Presbymatic theology, the self disciplined hedonist with the Gustavian-French thing going on in her house. Sort of "east meets west", Mother Teresa gives birth to Raquel Welch.

Works for me. Who wants to hire me to design their interior?