the mud

My new love in decorating is Barclay Butera.  I came across one of his books at a bookstore in Yardley last spring and I keep looking his stuff up on Pinterest.  I may need a twelve step program to get me off there.  It's really bad.   Anyway, Barclay's signature designs include lots of blue, lots of beach, lots of burlap, and he's not afraid to mix everything together.  Also lots of pillows that are plumpily fluffed, or fluffily plumped.  I just love this room!  I wish!  So simple, so lived in, yet so elegant.  I'm not spending any money, but he gave me lots of ideas.  (It makes it sound like I had lunch with him, which I didn't.  But if I'd known he was there when we were in California, I would've made my husband take me to his store!)  What I did learn is that I want to accentuate with pillows a bit more.   Here is what I did on my bed: Plain old pillow... Two ribbons... (I learned how to tie this from Runner's World...) Make an N

Imagine that you entered every relationship as if your life depended on it.  As if what you put in and took away from that relationship would keep you alive.  I am continuing to learn how special my brother was. I met friends of his the other night down the shore and it made me realize what it was that made him so special. Austin lived as if his life depended on other people. And it did. What if we all lived that way - as if our lives depended on the love we had for other people everyday.   Two stories: The other night I visited the bar where Austin used to work.  His picture hangs over the bar with a quote that he is now famous for:  "Dude, you've been waving me down for ten minutes, and now you don't even know what you want to drink and you're making this beautiful girl next to you wait - at least buy her a drink!"   We've analyzed this story so many ways.  On one hand, it seemed it was his temper coming through on a busy weekend bar shift.  But if y

An old boyfriend of mine way back in college once said to me, "I never want to feel that way again," after an argument we had.  The problem was that after that, we, or at least he, didn't feel much of anything.  Trying not to feel masks everything.  Later that same summer after the heart-breaking breakup, I went on a business trip with a friend and she had sage Jewish wisdom.  She said, "Aren't you glad you're feeling something!  That means you are human, you are alive!  Imagine life without feelings!"  And of course we can't. I went to the doctor a few weeks ago and they offered to prescribe something, but I think I'm okay.  I mean this is like, um, depressing.  So it's okay to feel a little depressed.   I'm glad I had my brother.  I wouldn't trade one minute with him to not have these feelings.   It's just hard.  It's painful.  But it's real.  I'm feeling something.  Not to feel would mean that I couldn't feel