Urban Comfort

Taking Time

I know I keep ducking out of here lately but I'm racing against the clock, trying to meet deadlines before I FINALLY get a chance to unwind for a little while. I saw this on Pinterest and thought it was a good reminder for all of us. I plan to take it to heart in exactly eight days (that magical day when my to-do list will suddenly shrink to a manageable size). 

On another note, I haven't had a chance to respond to emails lately and many of you have been commenting, which I deeply appreciate! So even if I'm not responding personally, please know that I'm reading them and taking them to heart.  They make my day!

Back soon... 

Home

I am disaster weary. I have no right to be, nothing has happened to me. But Mother Nature has been a beast around the country and across the globe, so much so that I can't quite process one disaster before another occurs. Still, my heart is heavy today, heavy with the knowledge that many of my neighbors outside of New Orleans will be suffering catastrophic losses this week, suffering losses so that I might stay dry in my city. I understand it intellectually. I'm sure most do. But still, it seems so unfair.

I made the mistake this weekend of reading comments on various stories about the flooding of the Mississippi. So many who stand in judgment, deciding that those who live in disaster prone areas get exactly what's coming to them, that they'll just be another community waiting for a handout. It made me think a lot about home, the place that our heart can never quite leave, the place we feel lucky enough to inhabit.

A sense of place is so prevalent here in the South. Perhaps it's not like that everywhere, maybe I take it for granted. But I know that you can't just plant yourself anywhere in the great wide world and expect that it'll become home. Some places grab you and don't let go, places where you aren't able to tell where your body ends and the Earth begins, part of everything above and beneath you. If you had that, what wouldn't you give to keep that sacred place? I know a lot of my fellow Louisianians understand this.

My husband and I were talking about living here in New Orleans, about the possibility of losing everything and having to start over. Such conversations are commonplace for us, usually just about the time we're entering a new hurricane season. It's a reminder every year, much like the letters the Army Corps of Engineers send out to homeowners in the flood plains annually - we just want to remind you that disaster may occur, we may take away your way of life...For us, we've decided that our experiences here, our passion, outweigh the potential losses. We'll continue to take the risk.

The water gives and the water takes away. I doubt there are any that know that better than the Cajuns. They're resilient and they'll take care of each other, their families, their communities. They'll come back, they'll rebuild on the sacred ground they call home. But still, my heart is heavy on this beautiful sunny day. I am sorry for their sacrifice, so sorry, that it makes it difficult to feel relieved.

Dining Chair Makeover

Before I move on from milk paint this week I wanted to show you a quick project I did, one that was less labor-intensive because I didn't have to strip the pieces first. I had two of these chairs left over from a project and I thought I'd use them for extra seating in my dining room. I also wanted to try out milk paint on a previously finished surface, using Real Milk Paint's Ultra-Bond.

I started with a quick scuff sanding, just to dull the glossy surface (on the frame, not the cane back) and wiped it down with a damp cloth. Then I mixed a small amount of milk paint for the base, including the Ultra Bond,  and lightened the rest of the milk paint I had left over from my china cabinet by adding white milk paint powder to the existing color. I applied two coats of the paint with a regular 1-inch brush for the frame, but I tried something different for the cane back. I applied the paint to the cane with a damp natural sponge (available at craft and art supply stores) in a pouncing motion.  That gave me just enough coverage without heavy paint buildup. 

For the cushion, I used a piece of oatmeal linen to cover the seat but I borrowed from this tutorial and painted stripes along the center of the fabric first. I didn't know what grout tape was (and couldn't find any at my hardware store), so I used good quality, double-sided craft tape and that worked just fine (I used Therm O Web brand, which I found at Michaels). I also mixed my own paint color using regular acrylic craft paint (Plaid Folk Art paints) and turned it into a fabric paint by mixing in a little textile medium (found in the same section as the craft paint). I applied it with a small stencil brush in a pouncing motion to minimize any paint seepage.  

And that was it. Minimal effort and I found the Ultra Bond did exactly what the label said it would. Yet another reason for me to love milk paint.

Before & After:

 

Color recipe for the chair base:

Oyster:

1 cup white milk paint
1/4 cup cream milk paint
1 teaspoon black milk paint
1 cup water (add a little more if too thick) 

Tobacco Road

It all started at Pegu Club in New York. My husband came home with the tale of a chance meeting with Ted Breaux, a chemist from Louisiana who was creating an artisanal liqueur from a rare tobacco called Perique, a tobacco that could only be grown in one small area of Louisiana. Being a great romantic at heart, I was immediately intrigued by something so remote and mysterious. I wanted a bottle. 

Eventually we acquired this liqueur, which only increased my interest in the cultivation of this rare crop, its planting and harvesting methods passed down to the French from the Native Americans who were in Louisiana at the time. Finally, last summer, with tobacco season in full swing, I set off with my cousin and a friend to St. James Parish, to a small town nestled against the Mississippi River, just an hour away from New Orleans. There, near the end of a dead end road, lay an ancient story, a living history with only a toehold in the present.

We were greeted by Jimmy LeBlanc, a Cajun with a deeply tanned, permanently etched neck and an accent so thick that it required careful listening, who told us the story of this tobacco, his family's passion and livelihood for generations. They were down to harvesting just a few barrels of Perique a year, striving more to keep the tradition alive than to turning a profit. 

It was hot and I was sweating in the intense humidity, but the scent of mystery hung low in the air. The barn, with its many tobacco leaves hanging, drying in various stages, smelled sweet and warm. The scent was pleasant, though heady, and we were warned that we might feel sick if we spent too much time in the barn. It happened to each of the workers throughout the season, as they bundled and stripped each tobacco leaf by hand, a labor-intensive process that led to a small amount of the finest, rarest tobacco in the world.

We all had our roles, my cousin asking the right questions, one man of the land to another, my friend capturing the beauty of the details with her camera, and myself, simply listening and observing for future distillation. A small moment in time, a glimpse of the past, a heartbeat in the middle of nowhere. I love this wild, tangled land I'm lucky enough to live in.

This year, the story came full circle and my husband created a cocktail using Perique and tobacco bitters, along with rum, velvet falernum (a clove liqueur), and a drop of chocolate bitters. It's an incredibly smooth, complex drink that's perfect for the gentleman (or cocktail snob) in your life. The ingredients aren't readily accessible, but I wanted to post this cocktail anyway (for the intrepid hunters and gatherers) and because when I drink this cocktail it takes me back to the end of a dead end road where tobacco leaves rustle in the occasional breeze and history lives on.

 

Tobacco Road

1 3/4 ounces Ron Zacapa Rum
1/2 ounce Perique Liqueur
1/4 ounce John D. Taylor's Velvet Falernum
1/4 ounce fresh lime juice
2 drops Snake Oil Tobacco Bitters
1 drop Bitter Truth Xocolatl Mole Bitters

Combine all ingredients in an ice-filled cocktail shaker. Stir to chill. Strain into a chilled coupe or old-fashioned glass. Garnish with an orange twist.
 

Note: My husband took creative license with the naming of this cocktail, since Tobacco Road actually refers to the tobacco producing area of North Carolina. I mention this for the know-it-alls who will write to tell me that he got it wrong.

China Cabinet Makeover

I picked up a mahogany china cabinet at a thrift store and knew all it needed was a paint job and some new hardware to turn it around. The piece was solid and the drawers intact. The only structural flaw was the back panel, which was nothing more than thin fiberboard anyway. But I will be honest with you. I rescue pieces of furniture and they sit in my house, awaiting their transformation. Sometimes I'm indecisive or afraid to mess something up. Sometimes I'm just plain lazy, which is what happened here. But I was working on my June column for Family Circle and tried out milk paint for the first time. I fell in love with it and knew I'd found my answer for this cabinet.

The cabinet had to be stripped - and needed to be stripped indoors - so we went with an eco-friendly stripper with minimal odor. (Look for brands like Citristrip, Peel Away, and Ready Strip.) After that, I mixed up a custom shade using milk paint powder and water. I gave the cabinet two coats of paint and finished it with Mylands Wax in a clear finish. I replaced the hardware as well as the back panel, using another piece of fiberboard covered with wallpaper remnants left over from another project. 

So what do I love about milk paint?  First of all, it doesn't require primer (!!) If the wood is bare or has been stripped, you just apply the milk paint directly to the wood. If you're painting over another finish, you can purchase an additive for the paint that allows it to adhere.  (I used the bonder for some chairs that had a light coat of varnish on them and it worked like a charm.) Second, it dries quickly and you can use your piece within a few hours, without having to wait for curing. Third, it's fun to work with.  Apply it with a foam brush for more opaque coverage, a natural bristle brush if you want more texture, or a natural sponge for a more variegated effect. Use the colors straight or mix them to your heart's content. It can go modern or vintage, depending on the application. I also like that it dries to a matte finish. You can leave it that way if you like a chalky finish or you can apply a wax like Mylands, which deepens the color and gives it a nice satin sheen without the slightest bit of tackiness.

I've become a huge fan. I'm using it to paint chairs, finally tackling the kitchen cabinets, and pretty much painting everything I can get my hands on. The brand I used was Real Milk Paint and I find their website to be a wealth of information. You can also email them with any questions and they're quick to respond and very helpful. If you decide to try milk paint, I urge you to read everything on their site first. You'll find out what to expect from milk paint, how to apply it, what products are best for your particular application, etc. Also, if you like more subtle colors, I'd suggest buying a box of white milk paint (quart size) and smaller amounts of colors like Black, Cream, and Raw Umber. I find these colors give me more flexibility when I'm trying to get a color just right. (See below for the color recipe I created for this cabinet. I call it Mushroom. Others might call it Greige.)

 

Before and After:

 Paint Detail:

Note the slightly variegated color, a hallmark of milk paint 

Color Recipe:

2 cups white paint powder
3/4 cup raw umber paint powder
1/4 cup black

(Mix with about 2 3/4 cups water.) 

Wallpaper Detail:

I thought this wallpaper from Neisha Crosland gave the cabinet some depth and brought a more modern sensibility to a traditional piece of furniture.

Vintage Baking Tins and Gelatin Molds

I have never been a fan of any sort of gelatin salad or mold, Southern as I may be. So when my grandmother was moving from her home and gave me three of her gelatin molds, I kept them because they were from her, not for any practical use. They sat in my baking cabinet until I determined that they might look good on the kitchen wall, complementing the other vintage industrial type pieces I have. I found a few more in antique stores to round out the collection (managing to snap up a number of small baking tins and molds along the way) and made them into wall art (or a sentimental keepsake, if you prefer).

The best part about collecting everyday vintage pieces is finding new ways to use them and I turned to Pinterest for inspiration on how to use my other finds. Here are some of my favorites: 

I think these tin collages from Jenni Bowlin are just brilliant!

 

 

A creative way to package a gift of jewelry (via Caroline Arber Photography

 

 

Baking pan planters via ethanollie

 

 

This cake mold pendant light is from Pottery Barn, but I've seen collections of smaller pendant lights made from silver molds and tart pans as well.

A fun idea for next Easter (via Etsy)

 

 

Baking pan storage from Ready Made

In My Neighborhood

You don't need an expensive camera to capture great photos.  In fact, some of my favorites have been taken with a camera phone or plastic Holga.  But if you do invest in a decent camera, you owe it to yourself to invest in a lens that allows creative freedom. I made that leap recently, going from a middling digital camera to a Canon EOS 50D. I got the kit, with its all-purpose lens. But then I also bought a 50mm lens (f1.4) and it's completely changed the way I shoot. In fact, photography is just more fun now.  

Ever since my weekend of shooting in the French Quarter, I've been taking walks around my neighborhood at dusk, playing with my camera and getting to know it a little better - learning how things like white balance can completely change the feel of a photograph, or how opening the aperture wide allows for great bokeh effects. 

I'm also having more fun shooting for this blog. Still lifes don't fill me with quite as much dread these days, knowing that I can finally achieve the shallow depth of field that I admire in so many beautiful, dreamy photographs. I could never capture that effect with my last camera, a fact that always frustrated me.  

The only thing that hasn't changed for me is my photo editing software. I still don't know my way around Photoshop but I find iPhoto to be about as easy as it gets. In the end, they're just tools. But they're tools that have given me a new creative perspective - and that's been worth every penny.