grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Built by Tom Tate

By

In 1954, Daddy built this piece of furniture in high school shop class. Staci and I used it as our night stand for years and then it was Tate’s. Now it’s in our Fayetteville house.
It belongs back in Arkansas.
When I was in 9th grade, I decided to take shop instead of home ec. I thought I might build some furniture too.  Daddy ix-nayed this idea right away, saying you only want to take shop because Craig is in that class… I was forced to go straight to home ec with all the girls. Turned out to be pretty fun other than the sewing debacle. And I still managed to spend plenty of time with Craig…
Craig and Me 2011
That little night stand is sturdy and very well built with dove-tailed joints. He did a great job on it. In the back of the drawer, upside down and hidden, Daddy burned an inscription into the wood, Built By Tom Tate 1954. The inscription is only visible when the drawer is emptied and removed. The inscription itself is a treasure, written in Daddy’s hand.
The little drawer has held all sorts of trinkets beginning in 1962. During the past year, Tate’s room has been empty, but the little drawer still held his things. Things left behind. Some not touched in years. A time capsule from childhood through high school. Plastic ninja toys from Ci-Ci’s Pizza, his Harry Potter Halloween glasses, guitar pics, golf tees, boy scout badges, his lifeguard whistle, a Little People person… 

Now it’s empty and polished and sitting by our bed in Fayetteville. I’m not sure what will end up in it, but I know whenever I go, it’s going with me. Until it can’t.
talya
Musical Pairings:
I Love, Tom T Hall
Craig and Me 1966?

Is it the size that counts?

By

How small is too small? Could John and I possibly downsize from nearly 3,000 sf to 900 sf on a permanent basis? Without killing each other? There was a moment this week I thought he might suddenly pull a Katie Holmes and disappear the day before my 50th birthday. Poor Tom Cruise and me. Katie moved to Manhattan. I went for a walk and noticed an unmarked white van at the end of our block … Scientologists? Then I remembered we aren’t in that cult. All is well.



Being in Fayetteville is liberating, not being weighed down by stuff. Stuff we never use or see or need. But sometimes having that stuff tucked away in a closet is comforting. It’s there if we want it. Or need it. Once a year. Like the giant turkey roaster pan we use only on Thanksgiving. 

900 sf, two adults, two miniature schnauzers and one teeny bathroom. This is a challenge for a Southerner. In NYC it’s no big deal, but I doubt those people even know about a properly brined turkey.


I bet Katie’s new uber exclusive NYC home is huge.

But I need this…

Everything we bring into our Fayetteville house must be carefully considered, its merits debated as if we have decided to live in a Volkswagen. Could that square inch be utilized better another way? 


In Dallas, we really only use a few rooms in our house unless we have visitors. But our closets are crammed packed with clothes we never wear and things we don’t need. Because they can be.

Why on earth do we have so many sets of sheets? For a possible toga party? or to build a fort in the living room? 

I have three deviled egg platters. John hates deviled eggs. 

I see an incredible estate sale in the future. Maybe. Someday.


Unless we kill each other first.

talya


Musical Pairings:


Our House, Crosby Stills Nash & Young

Small rooms or dwellings discipline the mind, large ones weaken it. – Leonardo Da Vinci

Are we really leaving Dallas?

Book Club

By

Finally, after 10 long years of wishing and hoping and thinking and praying and dreaming, I’ve been invited into the exclusive Munger Place Book Club. Through the years I’ve dropped innocent little hints about this nonchalantly with other club members, making sure they realize how much I LOVE to read. Hey Debby, I read the best book this week… Or, Sandy, what are you reading this month in your book club? (emphasis on ‘your’)

Smooth, I know.

Could they really not squeeze one more person into the fold? Someone who would bring wine and make homemade desserts or appetizers if requested. Or host for God’s sake.

I was forced to start my own book club with my former Lake Highland neighbors. We had been friends for years through marriages, divorces, childbirth, death of parents and neighborhood drug busts. It was great. We took turns hosting, sometimes meeting at my house while our Munger neighbors continued to gather and read all around us. Sometimes we met at a neighborhood restaurant or wine bar. Sometimes we actually read the books.

John and I are good neighbors. We have been good stewards of our home. We’ve improved it and try to keep our yard nice although we did have a bit of erosion in the front yard last winter. But we re-sodded, correcting this eyesore. John sometimes drinks too much at the neighborhood parties, but doesn’t everyone? We have hosted neighborhood porch parties and the New Year’s Crawl. We always help with the annual home tour. But still, it took 10 years to earn my way into this cloistered club. 

Munger book club chicks

I imagine the conversation was much like a sorority rush meeting as these women, my neighbors, friends, sat around discussing my merits and whether or not I was worthy for inclusion… She really does want to participate….She knows how to read…..She likes wine….I heard she is writing a book….

Just when we bought a house in Fayetteville and I am only in Dallas part-time, they invited me. And then I was out of town and missed the first two meetings… So now they probably think I’m a flake. But I will be attending the next one tonight. And I’m almost finished with the book, which I love!


It may be the only one I attend, a part-time flake is probably not allowed in the Munger Place Book Club. But at least I was asked.


MustGoFinishTheBookNow.


talya


Musical Pairings:

Who Wrote Holden Cauldfield?, Green Day
Wishing and Hoping, Dusty Springfield


Books are useless! I only ever read one book, “To Kill a Mockingbird,” and it gave me absolutely no insight on how to kill mockingbirds! Sure it taught me not to judge a man by the color of his skin… but what good does that do me? – Homer Simpson

Food. Farm. Garden. Life.

THANKS FOR READING!