Archive for the 'interiors' Category

my world

Author: angiem, 05 18th, 2011

The light is so lovely today, that I’ve been walking around snapping photos with my iPhone. I thought I’d share with you a peek into my world, my home, the things that make me happy. I thought long and hard about this because I value my privacy, and the older I get the more paranoid I become about sharing my space. Above is a photo of my kitchen. I love this room. My dad built those slender armoires behind me, years and years ago, and for the longest time they sat in his garage collecting dust and mice. They’re all cleaned out now and used as storage for my innumerable dishes. I have still to replace all the knobs.

My yard is tiny. It’s mostly a patio with an ivy wall, a trellis, and a few flowers. I don’t have a green thumb, although I wish I did. Bugs and worms and the thought of encountering either, has kept me out of the garden for years, which is really okay because my husband and kids love digging. And I love sitting out there and watching them at work. Or just sitting and enjoying the beauty of nature.

You know, I’ve never had a room of my own. Someplace where I could just go and be. Daydreaming, reading, writing, all those things requiring solitude and quiet, I’ve had to perform while interrupted by the spoken thoughts of others. That must be why I love watching my daughter owning her space. She goes in there and shuts the door, and demands that we all stay out.

Thanks, friends, for visiting my world. I hope your week is sunny and warm. Come back on Sunday as I am going to have a great book giveaway.


the other purpose of flour

Author: angiem, 02 08th, 2010

this is a photo of the stuff I don't want ruined. the priceless artwork is made by my son.

priceless art created by son

The microwave caught on fire soon after dinner.  My son placed two sugar cookies on a napkin and set the heat on for 45 seconds.  I heard him yell fire, fire, fire and I looked up from my book to see grey smoke fill the kitchen.  The fire extinguisher was down the hall, but the flour container was handy. I opened it and threw it all over the microwave, causing even more dark smoke.  Somehow I yanked the cord out of the outlet, picked up the microwave and ran with it outside.  I was afraid it would explode and kill us all, or at least ruin my furniture and books.

I took it to the curb, thinking that in the morning I would call the appliance recycling people to come and pick it up.  Yet when I checked a while back, it was gone.  Who would want a flour drenched and smoke smelling microwave?  Whoever it was, I hope they don’t bring it back.  My son was worried they might come and throw it through the window in protest that it doesn’t work. He’s got me worrying now, although I didn’t sell it, nor did I claim it reliable.

Well that’s about all the excitement that occurred this Monday.  I’ve been really wanting to stop using a microwave.  This could be a blessing in disguise.


perky boobies

Author: angiem, 12 18th, 2009

perky boobies

perky boobies

One of my daily indulgences is stopping by my favorite blogs while the morning is still in its infancy and my little angels sound asleep.  I have all my favorite sites bookmarked, and am so thrilled when I notice that there is a new posting.  After our conversations I leave feeling amazed, happy, a bit more cultured, and a better woman.  Or more correctly, a woman better equipped to take care of her house, her kids, her hubby, herself, and her job.

I first came across Lisa Borgnes Giramonti’s blog in the spring of this year, and immediately felt a connection. It could be perhaps that we both share some of that European sentimentality and affinity to tradition, or perhaps because she is so naturally chic and stylish and my little self wants to be just like her.  Whichever it is, I am glad and will not question it. After all, I benefit from her natural graciousness and elegance on a daily basis, and often find myself wondering just how she would approach a certain design dilemma or dinner seating issue.

She is the ultimate designer, hostess, writer, and artist. I mean really, how many of you like to spend your time embroidering? I certainly didn’t until I saw Lisa’s work, and fell under the spell of this form of documenting the passage of time. She made this long-lost art, chic again. Check these three posts out: this: and this: I absolutely adore them, and her, and I don’t know how she manages to make something so time consuming seem so pleasant.

And… Lisa has given me permission to say that something MAJOR is in the works with her embroidery, which thrills me because I can boast that I knew her way before she was a world famous billionaire artist.  So leave me a comment and then head on over and check out her site.  You’ll love it!



Author: angiem, 10 06th, 2009

Sometimes when I glance around my curio cabinet of a house, my thoughts inevitably stray to my mom and how difficult it must have been for her to up and leave, not just her sisters and friends, but her home, the home she had known since infancy. I look through my collections, and while they are hardly of the expensive variety, they are priceless to me.

There’s that entire row of my journals from my mid teens on. Then there are boxes of china, some chipped here and there, and silverware picked up at fleamarkets. Paintings by unknown artists picked up on our travels, old books, love letters and cards between hubby and I, and mirrors that have witnessed somebody else’s story as well. And then there’s the stuff I cannot imagine not passing on to my daughter: linen embroidered by my grandmother, rugs woven by my great-grandmother, fragile lace made by aunts and great-aunts, my grandmother’s hymnal in which she writes in her schoolgirl text: “Lord have mercy on me, a sinner”. How many times have I run my finger over the faded letters and wondered what sort of sins a twelve year old could have committed?

I imagine having a suitcase per family member. What would I stuff it with? Would it be filled with daily necessities, or sentimental frivolities? My mom did not worry too much about the necessities. After all, we were coming to a land of plenty. She filled our suitcases with linen and quilts and paintings and books. She filled them to capacity with our history.

What would be in your suitcase?


on my nightstand

Author: angiem, 07 03rd, 2009

my attempt in the dining room

my attempt to design my dining room

my study... favorite room in the house

my study... favorite room in the house

Many houses are deserted by the men of the family for lack of… simple comforts. ~ Edith Wharton

I love interior design almost as much as I love to read. I salivate over glossy magazines and books featuring exquisite residences from around the world, and wish that my work would be featured as well. Wishful thinking. For one thing, it’s nowhere near as good, and for another, I could never be as detail oriented as required.

Edith Wharton, however, was not just one of the best female American authors (Ethan Frome, The Age of Innocence, The Custom of the Country, and The House of Mirth, are just a few of her novels) she was also a superb interior designer. The Decoration of Houses, is one of the best books I’ve read on design. On the Lenox MA property she had bought in 1902, five years after she wrote the book, she created a peaceful and harmonious space where she was able to entertain her closest friends. Known as The Mount, it is currently owned by a preservation group, who has restored it to its original grandeur, as the original furnishings are long gone.

Readings of her books and tours are offered daily during the summer months. Check out: for more info and some great photos.