Inspiration Thursday! Missing home.

It seems like I just wrote about our vacation - stealing those last warm, sunny days - and fall blew into DC. I'm not complaining, mind you. Fall is one of my favorite seasons. Fall is when I acquired new school supplies in anticipation of a new school year. Fall is when the air becomes crisp. Fall brings the kind of sleeping weather where you can leave the windows open and wake up perfectly snug in a quilt.

Although I've lived in the DC area for 15 years now and have a home of my own, I tend to long for "home" this time of year - West Virginia is the home I long to see. When I was in college, our choir sang "My Home Among the Hills." There's a land of rolling mountains, where the sky is blue above. And though I may roam, I hurry home to the friendly hills I love... there autumn hill sides are bright with scarlet trees....

That's what I miss the most in this season, the rolling mountains of color. It's a sea of reds, greens, yellows, oranges or the harder to define colors like a coral or chartreuse that give my hills life in autumn. The color blankets the hills in undulating waves that coat the Appalachians like my quilt covers me in warmth. Although it's the end of their cycle, those leaves give a last burst of life that even now I see in my mind long after they're dust on a forest floor. It's life. It's comforting. It's home.

And so as it turns chilly, my feet itch to return to my home among the hills so I can tuck away another WV autumn in my heart.

Inspiration Thursday! Defining Vacation.

We just got back from vacation. A lovely vacation complete with a swimming pool, views of the water, walks on a deserted beach, kayak exploration, fresh seafood and sunsets beautiful enough to bring tears to your eyes. For many people I know, "vacation" means going to the beach: you pile your family into a car, you drive to the beach and you enjoy the sunshine. Period. I can't say, however, this was my experience growing up. Vacation - in my family - involved three possible scenarios.

The first scenario was a trip to Tennessee via Kentucky to visit family. Twice a year we'd pile into a car - a ~tiny~ Toyota Tercel in my teen years - and drive 12 to 14 hours on roads like the "Purchase Parkway" past "the castle" to spend at least two weeks at my grandparents farm. In Hornbeak. West Tennessee.

Those vacations were usually spent rowing on the lake behind my grandparents house, lassoing the Tennessee Walkers for some wild rides or roaming the fields or gardens that made up the farm. Occasionally we'd walk into the woods and swing on the swing my father put up for my grandmother. We'd stand at the top of the hill and pull our legs up to swing down the hill and oh so high on the other side. This is where I learned about "frog gigging", crafting a barbecue pit, had a wrestling match with a barbed wire fence that left a scar, and learned the importance of wearing shoes in copperhead country. At night we kids "performed" shows for the adults, sang around the piano or playing a deadly game of Chinese Checkers with my grandmother - the queen of Chinese Checkers. One memorable year, a little Shetland pony lived outside the window of my bedroom calling to me in the morning to get up and come out and play. This was most often my family's definition of vacation.

The second scenario was the working vacation. Mama was an artist who did shows up and down the East Coast. A "show" could be defined as an outdoor arts festival (with lightening, wind and rain), a museum exhibit or a convention floor fair with a 100,000 person gate. Again, we piled people, luggage, stock, display cases and a booth into or on top of that little Toyota Tercel and drove off to some far away place. We'd talk our hearts out trying to sell Mama's wares, answering questions like, "Are they made of fudge?" and, "How does she MAKE them?" knowing we'd all be richer for those sales if we could keep them talking long enough for Mama to close the deal.

And after the show was done, the booth taken down and whatever stock was left packed back into - or onto - the car, the treat would come. Mama would always find a way to do something special like taking us to a movie or spending a couple days exploring the area on our way home. Once, right before my sophomore year in high school, she took me on a shopping trip in the local mall where I got a raspberry beret a la Prince. I felt so wicked! Thankfully, Mama never fully understood what that was all about... or maybe she did?

The third scenario was an extra special treat. It was a "vacation" where we didn't visit family and we didn't have to work. Our sole purpose was to see something new and exciting, to stay in a hotel room and eat out - all things very exotic on my father's college professor salary. Mama would save up and find deals to make these trips. I can count these vacations on my fingers they were so rare. They were incredibly special and shaped our lives in ways my parents may have intended, but may not have imagined. One of these trips was a visit to DC when I was about eight. Standing behind their bench seat of our Buick LaSabre (prior to seat belt laws), I told my parents I'd work and live on Embassy Row when I grew up. And I did.

So no. We didn't go to the beach and spend a week on the water. We didn't pull out the beach chairs and pails, coolers and umbrellas. I only saw the ocean twice before my 20s and one of those times was in December (after a show).

This "going to the beach" thing is still new to me. I'm learning not to feel guilty with the luxury of it all. My constant is that just like my Mama, I save, find deals and work to make it the best adventure ever - or at least to feel like it is in the moment. And though "vacation" is defined differently than it was when I was a child, it's an adventure still. And that's a tradition I intend to treasure.

Inspiration Thursday! Do you have a great idea?

Apparently there's a new reality show in town. Or there's going to be. I'm not sure.

The first I heard of this company called Quirky was through a friend who'd posted an article - "Quirky: The Solution to the Innovator's Dilemma". She'd posted Entrepreneur Magazine's profile of the company and it's owner on FB. It's an amazing article for people who dream big dreams, but have no idea how to make them a reality.

Quirky was founded by Ben Kaufman, a young man who had invented a set of headphones in college and worked his way through the process of getting them produced and sold. Having gone through the pain - and the investment - of getting an invention into the market, he saw an opportunity for a business. Quirky helps other inventors get their products to market. You have the idea, bring it to the Quirky masses, they vote on their favorites and the top pick gets put into production once a certain number of people pledge that they'll buy the product. The catch? Since Quirky is investing the money in the design and production phases, they take a cut in the profits. The good thing for inventors, though, is that you see your product come to life and you too get a cut in the profits.

To learn a little more, you can see the Sundance Channel's new show about the company on Hulu or you can wait for the premiere on the 30th. This first episode follows the design and production of two products. One of those products  - Pivot Power - is estimated to pull in roughly $125,000 this year for the inventor. He's a recently-graduated design student who thought $10,000 was a lot of money! I'm hoping this is the first of many of these shows.

So what about you? Do you have a great idea whose time has come? Well, get submitting already!

**Photo is from Quirky.com - check it out!!

DIY Monday: Estate Sale Score Re-do

I subscribe to the email list of a local Estate Sale company and most weeks I faithfully check their website's "Current Sales" page to see what's coming at the weekend. I spent a good bit of last week in great anticipation of the sale last weekend. You see, not all estate sales are created equally.

Some estate sales are clean and pristine. Someone's already gone through the house and picked through. There are no piled up closets, no hidden cubby holes filled with newspaper and boxes, no spidery basements with wooden crates of stuff in these clean and pristine houses. They may have a few pieces of china and silver and crystal, but they don't necessarily speak to my treasure hunting heart.

This past weekend, however, my MIL (who is also a treasure hunter at heart) and I hit the gold standard of estate sales. It was a sale with a garage filled with boxes, trunks and crates that were, in turn, filled with everything a treasure hunter would want. It was a house with linens galore. It was a house with cubbys and closets full of stuff. A cook, a reader, a collector who had traveled - a treasure hunter's dream.

I was in the last room when I saw them. In fact, I saw a stack of them walking out the door and kicked myself for not getting there even 30 minutes earlier because the price was fantastic. But then, when digging through vintage clothing in the closet, I found them... two of them: vintage metal card catalog files.

I've been looking for a vintage set of these for years with no luck. Granted I've been looking for wooden versions, but what I've found have ranged in price from $800 to $3,000. And here in front of me was a set of 30 for $12. TWELVE DOLLARS!

After controlling my hyperventilating, I found my MIL and explained that if I left these here I'd never forgive myself (upon which she insisted we get them), we found help to get them to the car, quickly paid for them and hauled them home to try and convince my husband of their value.

Although I'm perfectly happy with the set - or would be after wiping them down a little - the hubby isn't happy with the color and insists we paint them. Since I'm not worried about the value of these babies (like I'm ever going to get rid of them), I agreed. But after nixing brown, we've settled on a blue/green... or as blue/green as I can get in a spray paint. I'll show you the steps in the next couple weeks! I'm hoping hubby will forgive me when they're done!

Foodie Friday: Grits Y'all

Since we're talking Southern food lately, I thought I'd give y'all a tip on making grits. The key to making good grits is to use milk instead of water. Mama still uses instant grits, but she makes them with milk to make them creamier!

Just use the portions listed on the side of the box substituting milk for water and stirring constantly as the milk heats (so it doesn't stick or scorch). Pour in your grits and stir until they're done (again, check the box for how long it should take). Put in a pat of butter and you've got some kind of delicious!

DIY Monday: Dreaming up a design

One of the hardest things to do in creating a design can be visualizing how the finished design will look. Some are gifted with a clear vision while others can only see the full picture when the design is finished. Some people buy architectural or design magazines and tear out pictures that they like. Others may search the book aisle at their local home improvement or the design section at Barnes and Noble to find inspiration. Still others may go straight to the source - the cabinet maker, the tile store, the appliance section, or even a craft fair - to get that spark that fires design.

I recently found a site that's helped me with a design. It's called Houzz. My husband and I have been arguing over a project. I see clearly how it should be done, but no matter how much I've drawn it out and explained the steps, he can't see enough to be comfortable to move forward with the design. So I've spent some time perusing the pictures on Houzz, adding to my photo ideabook to somehow convey that this design idea will WORK in our space. It's a wonderful tool to get design ideas and get comfortable with your design ideas. Now on to trying to convince the husband that this dream can become a reality on our DIY budget! You'll know soon!

Foodie Friday: Southern Cooking

Y'all know what country ham is? Or side meat? Unfortunately, I do. And even more unfortunately I find it delicious.

One of my most pleasant memories of my grandparents' house is waking up to a good old Southern breakfast. Daddy Doug (my grandfather) would wake us up just in time to grab biscuits (made with lard) hot out of the oven. He'd have been up cooking up some country ham, eggs, biscuits, red-eye gravy and oatmeal (that he would later douse with sugar, cream and butter). Talk about a feast!

We'd have a difficult choice to make. You see biscuits could hold some ham, be covered in molasses or homemade jam OR be drizzled with red-eye gravy. And because I'd bet many of you don't know what this is much less how you'd make it, I'm here to oblige.

After you fry up your country ham, pour off the grease from the pan (my uncle keeps this fat to season other cooking). You should have little bits and pieces of ham "drippings" left in your pan. Pour in some water - enough to completely cover the surface with extra depth left over. Put the pan back on the heat and stir the mixture until it comes to a boil. Allow it to simmer until the water turns the color of the drippings. You then pour it into a dish or serve over biscuits.


I know, I know: heart attack on a stick. But oh so good!

P.S. Daddy Doug lived to be 87 years old and his wife lived to 90!