Today's Topic Is "Cards"

I've finally narrowed my craft focus to two things: cards and jewelry. So on days like today when I have soo much writing to do for other people that I don't feel like writing for myself, I'm going to post some of my favorite projects. Here's a birthday card I made for my beloved C. The colors actually matched quite a bit better than it looks like here. :o\ (Sorry for the quality of the pics--they were taken for my own memory before I even thought about having a blog!)



Here's Mama's most recent birthday card, with a velvet flower and real pearls!



Hmm I guess these were both made during my "side borders, layered-paper" phase. Tomorrow: Favorite projects from my days as HGTV.com's queen of crafts.

I'm BACK! and the Cent Sign

My name is Tammy and it has been four months since I blogged. *head hung in shame*

The first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem, so today I admitted to dozens of people that I created a blog and then let it die from lack of identity. I could never decide what I wanted it to be. Jewelry and gemstones? Cards and other crafts? My adventures? D, all of the above? I'm so passionate about so many things, and sometimes I get all in a fizz over the smallest things, and they need a place, too.

Like today. I was driving down a major highway when I saw a sign advertising something for 89 cents. But it didn't say 89 cents or 89¢ or even $.89, it just said .89


That made me start thinking about the poor cent sign. Where has it gone? You never see it on price tags anymore, probably because there's almost nothing cheap enough to be priced in just cents, without at least one or some dollars. Even if you do find something for sale for only cents, it's listed like the sign I saw--$.99 or $.79 or $.59.

The cent sign has become one of those things that we no longer need, one of the things that not-too-future generations may never see or hear of, like phones with cords you can idly play with while you're talking to a cute boy, address books made of real paper, or records that snap and crackle on record players. There's not even a cent sign on my laptop keyboard, and that makes me sad.

Inflation isn't the cent sign's fault.

Just like my ADD isn't this blogs fault, so I'm vowing not to let it go the way of the cent sign. I'm back!

Photo by Branddobbe.

and now, the pearls

The name of this blog can have lots of meanings, and only those who know me fairly well will get all of them, but the pearls are the most important bit. Simply put, I ADORE pearls. Ultimately I expect that there will be more pearls here than anything else, and to kick things off with style, meet my favorite: Paspaley, "the most beautiful pearls in the world."

Paspaley. Ahh... I even like saying the name. My friends at Stuller introduced me to the glories of Paspaley Pearls, the glowing little creamy white wonders from Paspaley Pearling Company in Australia. While visiting Stuller once, I got to try on a perfect $100,000+ classic strand of Paspaley South Sea pearls like these.

Just look at them! In all their big round satiny white glory. They look like they would melt--or disappear--if you touched them, like the most perfect little snowballs ever made, and so perfectly matched. It's hard to believe they are formed from an irritant or bead nucleus inside of something so akin to... well... slime... And though these could be your grandmother's pearls (she should be so lucky!), most of Paspaley's designs are not--but they are unique and beautiful while still being contemporary...



Like these pendants. *bites lip* Oh, I want 'em!

It's clear that Paspaley doesn't lose sight of the beauty of their pristine South Sea pearls, which remains the focus of Paspaley's designs. I love how they work with and build on the beauty of the pearls themselves, like the way these pendants incorporate tiny micropavé strips of diamonds around the circlé pearl's bands. Fabulous!

It was the Lady Alexandra ring designed by my friend at Stuller that first introduced me to the beauty of Paspaley Pearls, and now I'm enamored with these BHPRs (big honkin' pearl rings), though they cost as much as my car...



Ohhh, my precioussss!

Want to see the other Paspaley pearl jewelry I'll buy when I win the lottery? Oh, alright. ;o)

Pearls in gemstone roses and daisies made of pearls. Just gorgeous.

And after I win the lottery AND become queen, I'll wear this delicate little concoction of diamonds and one perfect, creamy South Sea pearl:


Swoon.

(All photos from Paspaley.com)

Raindrops on roses and soft fuzzy kittens...

...or is it mittens? Anyway...

I've spent the past couple of days "building out" this page with my favorite bloggers, websites, designers of jewelry/pearls, books and music, etc. I started it two days ago... and two days and hundreds of newly discovered blogs later, I'm taking a break. The web is big, y'all.

Just in time, too, because reading so many other blogs (actually I only skim most of them, just looking at the pics, except those done by friends--real-life friends not webernet friends... anyway, I digress...) As I was saying, seeing all those other bloggers listing their favorite this or that and all of the beautiful things they make got me to thinking about my favorite this-or-thats and all the beautiful-if-I-do-say-so-myself things I've made. Being HGTV.com's Crafts Editor for seven years turned me into quite the little "handmade'n" and I have the sparkly crown to prove I'm the other Queen of Crafts (thank you, Carol Duvall!). So... expect to see some of that in the coming days.

First, though, in my own little effort to stave off the death of even more magazines, I'm giving my first ever shout-out to some of my other favorite things--lovely eye-candy magazines.

The loveliest of all is Victoria. I was thrilled when Hoffman Media brought back my beloved Victoria magazine a couple of years ago, and I hope that this stupid economy doesn't kill it off again. Browsing through the pages of Victoria is like taking a trip through all of the cities I want to visit, but with all of the ugly bits blocked out. It's cover-to-cover beauty--linens, clothes, jewelry, dishes, silver, shops, streets, inns, homes, art... The photography is intoxicating and the quotes from classic literature peppered throughout are the icing on top. Get a scone and a cup of tea and check it out.


Bonus: The issues of Victoria magazine never go out of style. I often find earlier issues at antiques stores for $1 apiece, and I always buy them because their contents are so timeless... but it's fun to come across an old Victoria unknowingly mixed in with a stack of new Victorias and wonder, while browsing the pages, where all the URLs are. There aren't any--it was pre-internet-bombardment with the www's all over the place. Ha!

Another favorite is the new life: beautiful "faith for your journey" magazine. It's Martha Stewart in church, really--filled with all the beautiful photographs and inspiring ideas for fine home life but with the added bonus of spiritual topics and Bible verses scattered throughout. You'll find Joyce Meyer's voice inside, along with other Christian leaders, and you can learn more about life: beautiful's mission here.


I have the biggest crush on the sassily-named, swoon-filled new Garden & Gun magazine. It's the magazine equivalent of a tanned, handsome Southern gent in perfectly worn jeans, a crisp white shirt, and a smart jacket sitting in an equally-perfectly-worn leather chair nursing a well-aged glass of Johnny Walker next to a vase of perfectly blooming peonies in a fine crystal vase. *fans self* It's published in Charleston, which I like to call the pearl of South Carolina, and it makes me happy any time good media comes out of a city other than New York or L.A. The name is so fitting for a magazine filled with all the finest things about the South, from gentlemanly cocktails to hospitable cities with Southern cuisine and, of course, two things we do best--gardening and hunting. If your mouth isn't watering yet, just go see the amazing photography. (P.S. Sign up for the Talk of the South, y'all.)


So there are the three periodical addictions I'm nursing through Depression 2.0. Hang in there, darlings.

(Photos of magazine covers from Victoria.com, LifeBeautifulMagazine.com, and GardenandGun.com.)

Word of the Day: Florid

I just learned a new word, and it's fabulous. No, the word itself isn't "fabulous." It's "florid." It sounds bad, doesn't it? Like "horrid" or "torrid." But it isn't, it's very good:

flor·id (flôr'id, flor'-) (adj.)

1. Flushed with rosy color; ruddy.
2. Very ornate; flowery: a florid prose style.
3. Healthy. (archaic)
4. Abounding in or covered with flowers. (obsolete)

[French floride, from Latin floridus, from flos, flor-, flower.]

n. - floridity flo·rid'i·ty (fl?-rid'i-te, flô-) or flor'id·ness
adv. - floridly flor'id·ly

So I'm going to start using it as often as possible. I thought about making a new blog for it (another one? already? but wouldn't it be full of pretty things!), but a silly boy already wasted the name with a blog that sparked once and died four years ago. Humph.

Florid would be a great name for a little shop, too, and not just a florist, but one that sold 1000-thread-count pink pajamas and ridiculously expensive candles and delicious hand creams. I'd like it on a T-shirt: be florid. That would send a lot of people Googling on their crackberries, for sure.

It would make a great color name, too, since I'm in love with color names. It could be the color of pretty red nail polish from OPI, or a preppy beet-colored cardigan from J.Crew, or a cute rosy-red T-shirt from J.Jill. It also sounds like a great way to describe the color of a juicy red spinel, ruby, or rubellite. Sigh.

Florid could be the color of your lips after you eat a cherry popsicle, or the color they are after you've tried on seven shades of lipstick at the Clinique counter. It could describe a sunburn on your nose after driving around in a convertible all day.

But there's not just florid, the color, there's florid, the style. Like the ornate iron gates guarding homes in Charleston and New Orleans, the decadent jewelry of Penny Preville, or the lacy curtains in my bedroom.



Plus there are the noun versions, floridity and floridness, and since this word is nearly obsolete, I'm going to take it upon myself to make my own definitions of them. Floridity, for example, could be what you show when you're being particularly sassy. Her floridness is what you love about your craziest friend from college.

And then the adverb, floridly. A girl could flip her hair floridly--that sounds right, doesn't it? Even if it isn't. Or kiss floridly or walk floridly or even laugh floridly. I think I'd like to do all of those things.

I like peppering it into literature, too. One could go floridly amid the noise and haste. In fact, that's very good advice. Baudelaire could "be florid" instead of drunk, though a florid wine would be a good thing, too. How about, "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a florid wife." Ha!

What a fabulous word, florid.

First First: I Hereby Blog

It's hard to start a blog. It's different than when you start writing in a blank book, where you can always turn in a few pages and start on, say, page 3 or 4, so that whatever you put there doesn't seem like it's so important, on the front page and all...and if you ever have a need to "start" that book differently, or find something that should be first, you have those few pages at the front to leapfrog before what you've already written first and write something first-first.

But on a blog, you can't do that. Even if you decide to go back later and add an entry before the "first" first entry, everyone knows and the chronological (chronoblogical? blogological?) order gets messed up and the page gets all wonky... No, you can't do that in a blog. In a blog, the start is the start and everyone saw it so that's all there is to it. So let's get started.

Partly because I'm a recently downsized, returning-to-freelancing writer who needs to, well, write, on a regular basis, and partly because Brother makes fun of me for updating my Facebook profile too often (I'm a writer, there's pressure to have a cool profile!), and partly because I'm newly addicted (nay, obsessed?) to wheat toast and strawberry jam and feel the need to confess it publicly (my name is Tammy and...), and partly because all the cool kids are doing it... I hereby blog.

As for the toast addiction... *reclining on couch* I'm fairly sure it all started when my sweet friend read me the accidentally brave adventures of Mercy Watson, an adorable pig who loves "hot buttered toast," preferably in very large stacks.

It was only a few days later that I first ordered (innocently, absentmindedly) wheat toast at the Double T Diner while visiting Brother in Merry-land. It was the best toast EVER, and it's all crumbs from there.

(By the way, I've already found camaraderie for my lil toast problem in a fellow blogger. Molly Wizenberg, foodie-blogger extraordinaire (of Orangette fame) turned foodie-author, gave me relief when she confessed her own version of what I will no longer call a rut: "I think my problem is peanut butter. I lose all motivation when there is a jar of peanut butter around. Given an adequate supply of sandwich bread, I will eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches indefinitely, to the near-complete exclusion of other foods.")