A Command Performance

Every year, the first Sunday in May, I make sure my boys' hair is combed perfectly, their madras or seersucker shirts are pressed, and their manners are fit for the queen.  Today is the "command performance" of the year, for today is the annual picnic at Still Hopes, the Episcopal Retirement Home where GrandMuz resides.   The flowers are blooming in the manicured beds, and it is the day where all the lovely, little old ladies show off their families... especially the grands and great-grands!  (It is a day that is a "reoccurring" event on my calendar.)

I had to giggle as we arrived.  I thought of Tickled Pink and Green's "I Spy a Preppy" posts.  She would have had a field day here.  Little boys in their Vineyard Vines polos and belts.  Bigger boys in madras (mine in Kelly's Kids). Girls in their Lilly Minnie shifts with great big grosgrain bows in their hair.  Babies in smocked bubbles and jon jons.  Women in their Jack Rogers and Lilly skirts (oh, wait... that was me too!).  Men in Lacoste, Southern Tide, Brooks Brothers, and Masters (guess that is a southern thing!) polos.  All here for the "command performance" at Still Hopes.


I used to wonder why it was named Still Hopes.  As a child, I always thought it was an absolutely horrible name.  I could just hear someone say, "It's ok, Mrs. Jones... there's still hope..."  Actually, the land was an old plantation named Still Hopes on the banks of the scenic Congaree River.  The mansion still stands and has lovely dining and drawing rooms where the residents can hold elegant catered dinner and cocktail parties.  With this, the lovely Bistro and formal dining room, and state-of-the-art Wellness Center, Mike and I are ready to put our deposit down as we are ready to move!  LOL

My grandmother also loves it here.  She has a precious apartment on "the floor" as she says.  The way she talks, it reminds me of my college days in my all-girls college.  They leave little treats at each others doors.  They get together to go to the symphony or choral society.  On birthdays, each lady takes turns holding the  birthday brunch.  So reminds me of Converse!

But I digress... GrandMuz loves to show us off.  She loves to introduce my boys to her friends, have them walk her to the dessert table, introduce them to her friends, go on the carriage ride, introduce them to her friends.  You get the idea!  And both boys rose to the occasion, as my mother loves to say.  They were sweaty hot.  They wanted to untuck their shirts.  But they smiled and hugged, and complied with every request.  Even posed pictures for their mama!

The staff put together a wonderful event.  Valet parking with men in bright turquoise polo shirts driving golf carts greeted us at the gates.   Huge white tents were set up all over the front lawn.  Blue table cloths covered the tables.  For lunch they served barbeque with all the fixins' and too many desserts to count, including my personal southern favorite:  peach ice cream.  Perfect for a warm spring day!  Other events to celebrate the first of May were...

A horse-drawn carriage took the residents and their guests 

for trips around the beautiful grounds.

Some children were coaxed to do the traditional Maypole dance.  

Too bad my boys were on the carriage ride when it began.  

But I don't think I could have convinced them to do it... sigh

A putting green for pro-golfers in-training...

Thank you for a wonderful day, GrandMuz.  It was Golden...

Summertime is for Seersucker

Received an email a few days ago from the bastion of men's clothing:  Brooks Brothers. Love, love, love the website, and have had so much fun picking out "nice" summer clothes for the boys.  I am just in love with all the seersucker!  Thank goodness they are partial to it too.  I am even ordering for myself, and I'm thinking a summer photo in the cool mountains will be in order with the some of goodies we have picked out. Won't we be just dashing?

  Sumter

Jackson

Bevy

 Mike 

(not ordering for him as he already has blue, red, AND green!!!)

Here are some other seersucker goodies available from my beloved Brooks Brothers (although we are passing - this time!).

Oh, I am so ready to feel that cool, crisp feel of seersucker... it makes my heart scream, "SUMMERTIME!"  ...And, yippee!  Only twenty-four more days!

Tuesday's Kitchen Inspirations

I have this little easel by my coffee pot.  It is Proverbs 24:3-4.  Glancing at it each day reminds me that as my husband and I continue to build our home for our family, we must continue to grow in Wisdom.  Not the wisdom we all have to know what foods are healthy for our children to eat.  Not the wisdom to keep our cars and sprinkler systems maintained.  Not the wisdom to help our children with their homework.  We must grow in the Wisdom that is of God.  This Knowledge (Wisdom) sustains my family... and our home.  And everyday, I see its rooms filled with the rare and beautiful treasures.

DesignHer Bevy!

How many of you have discovered this fun website: designhergals.com? I do know a bunch of you have as I have seen a few of your creations on your blogs.  I had more fun a few weeks ago "putting myself together" as it was.  It's like making your very own virtual paper doll!

What cute clothes and shoes!  Jack Rogers, TB Revas, Longchamp bags.  (Wish they had cute Lilly skirts!!!) And how did they ever know my exact hair style and "cullah"???  I created my Bevy as my profile picture on Facebook.  When my husband saw it, he was pretty amazed at how much he thought it looked like me - and my personality.  You must try it!  Very fun...

Other than it being a little more trim 

than I am in real life...
Welcome to Me!

Tuesday's Kitchen Inspirations

This picture was taken this past Saturday evening at my father's 70th birthday party (this post).  However, today is actually the big day.  Here is G-dad (pronounced Gui-dad like the French Gui) with his four doting grandchildren, my two boys and their cute cousins.  This is already in a frame in our kitchen... therefore, a Tuesday's Kitchen Inspiration!

G-dad is a rather unusual name, I know.  As the oldest, Sumter was the one who came up with it.  (I too was the oldest grandchild, and I had the honor of "christening" my grandmother Muz... even the great-grands call her Grandmuz!)  My father is also named Sumter (see this post on how we are ALL named after relatives, both dead and alive!).  And his father was named Sumter.  We called him "Grandaddy Sump".  When my Sumter was a baby, my father wanted to carry on the "Granddaddy Sump" tradition (goodness gracious, we don't like to break with tradition in my family, do we???).  Anyway, that is quite a mouthful for a toddler, and anything Sumter couldn't say, he called Ya-ya instead.  So guess what Sumter called my father?

I suggested that "Granddaddy Sump" was a little more than he could handle... why don't we try "Grand-dad" and work our way towards the desired moniker?  We tried it.  And Sumter took one look at his grandfather and said, "G-dad".  Not quite what my father was looking for... but when asked how he liked being called G-dad, my father would laugh and, with a twinkle in his eye, answer, "Well, it sure beats Ya-ya." 

We think G-dad fits you perfectly and couldn't imagine any other name for you... You are the one and only.  We love you G-dad!

Would You Care to Shag... um, I Mean Dance?

Last night we celebrated my father's 70th birthday.  My mother, sister and I sent out almost 100 invitations for a soiree with jambalaya, beer and shagging.  It was a wonderful affair, with 150 of his dearest and closest friends celebrating a man they love.  The supper was eaten, the Amber Bach consumed, and the shagging commenced. 

"What?  The 'shagging commenced?' " you non-southerners may say.  (And you Brits may be a little more appalled.)  Yes, shagging.  I do know what some of you may associate with the term, but if you live south of the Mason-Dixon line, your parents do it right in front of you, and encourage you to do so too!

Shagging is the state dance of South Carolina... yes, our legislature obviously didn't have much on their plates the year it was passed.  Think a variation of the 40's jitterbug, old Motown (affectionately called "Beach Music"), and a couple in bare feet on the beach.  Shagging is so ingrained in our society down here that at my debutante balls, in addition to the Grand March and the waltz, we danced to The Drifters, The Four Tops, The Temptations, and the other old Motown bands.

I, like all other young southerners, was expected to learn how to shag.  My parents are fabulous dancers, and my mother taught me by having me hold onto a door handle as "my partner" when I was around twelve or thirteen.  She also had me hold a pencil between my fingers and a cup of water filled to the rim in one hand because she knew that at some point I would probably have a "drink" and cigarette while I was dancing and she didn't want me to spill either.  (Yes, this is Mimi from previous posts!)  Needless to say, my sister and I are pros, and nary a drop has ever been spilled by either of us!

So now it is my turn to teach my children.  Sumter just started dancing with me just this past month.  And I must say he is pretty good.  So glad he is a willing partner!  Last night, he wanted to try some of the moves he saw the adults dancing.  I wish we had some pictures of us...

But I do have these little gems.  

This is Jackson and his best friend/cousin MS.  

Aren't they precious?

Please excuse the pollen "dots"!

Can you say "Dancing with the Stars"?

Mom, I thought my name was D*** it

In reading Jillian, Inc.'s post from a week or so ago, I was reminded that I say "damn it" too much.  But you really wouldn't know it spending time with me... just me. I am the girl who always says "Oh, my word!" and "Oh, my goodness!" - not "Oh, my God".   I say "shoot" and "shucks" - not "s***".  I say "That really irritates me" - not "That p***** me off".  I just don't.

But I do the "damn it" quite a bit.  And it's when I have FINALLY HAD IT with one or both of the boys.  I admit it.  I crack.  I am spent.  I am done. I'm like the Bill Cosby comedy segment where "...my brother Russell thought his name was Damn it!"



My youngest told his Mimi (my mother) a few weeks ago that I cursed at them.

Mimi:  Oh my, what does she say?
Jackson: She says "the D word".
Mimi:  Well, what do you do to make her say that?

Thank you Mimi!  I love you!