Blue Ice And Wind

The end of February was bitterly cold, so I searched my closet for outfits that long underwear could be worn beneath without adding much bulk, since my work commute from northwest Baltimore County, Maryland, to the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C. requires walking outside at both ends of the trip as well as standing on an elevated outdoor platform to await a subway train.  I found the perfect foil in a pair of super-wide belled jeans that were custom made for me from a pair I loved that disintegrated shortly after I bought them (see Hanging By A Thread).  

Besides, I was eager to have another excuse to wear this adorable sweater by My Collection, with its icy blue stripes and unusual muff-style front pocket.  The super-wide, three-quarter length Dolman sleeves complemented my wide bellbottoms and make the piece even more atypical, connected the way they are to the side seams of the sweater clear down to the hem.  This could have made the top a bit awkward to wear, since raising one’s arms means the entire sweater rises up.  However, the fabulous color variegation in the yarn, from gray to light blue to navy, makes it easy to layer the unique pullover with a variety of long-sleeve Tees.  On this day I chose a gray, ribbed knit Tee by Faded Glory, which allowed me to raise and lower my arms at will without worry about exposing myself to the harsh winter elements.

This fabulous sweater was a recent gift from Joyce, the mother of my best friend, Kari.  Joyce sent me the top in a box of gently-used clothing she no longer wore.  I was thrilled to get everything in the box, but this sweater really called out to me because of its extraordinary design.

Robinson's department store in Pasadena, California,
was a frequent destination of my mother and
grandmother when I was growing up

I pulled comfortable booties by Pink & Pepper over thick ski socks and played up the gray in the sweater by covering my head with an heirloom mink pillbox hat by Miss Alice that my grandmother bought at J.W. Robinson’s Department store in Pasadena, California, in the 1950s (I still have the hat box it came in!), and added my grandmother’s dangly earrings -- gray pearls that I long ago converted to pierced from old-fashioned screw-backs.

After one of my black walnut trees
snapped clear in half during a
powerful wind and ice storm in
mid-February, workers from
JamesPickett's Tree Service cut it down

The severe winter ice and wind storm that swept across the eastern half of the country in mid-February wreaked mercifully little havoc on my two acres.  I lost power several times through the course of the storm’s worst 60 mile-per-hour winds and had many large limbs from broken trees to drag cross my property into piles that eventually reached far over my head.  One walnut tree, however, broke literally in half. I didn’t feel comfortable about climbing so far up into the tree by myself with a Sawzall, so I called the owner of my trusty tree service, James Pickett.  It took almost two weeks for the company to clear out their post-storm emergency tree removal work before they could get to me.  But on this frigid day at the end of the month, as I was embarking on my chilly commute to the District of Columbia, the owner’s son and a couple of helpers arrived to make short work of the shattered tree and carry away all the broken branches in my two gigantic piles. 

Let the winds howl.  I was warm and comfy in my ice-blue sweater and giant bellbottoms all the way to work and back!
Cheers,
Lynell

Caped Crusader

The weather was on a roll, it seemed.  Mother Nature would pack a walloping final punch of a winter storm the following day, but on this day, at the end of February, temperatures reached the mid-40s in Baltimore county, Maryland, where I live. Almost 50 degrees!  It was downright balmy compared to the sustained cold we’d endured all season in the mid-Atlantic.

I was on a roll, too.  I have a number of beautiful shawls, most of which are light, lacy confections that wouldn’t offer even a modicum of  protection from bracing air.  But I also own this gigantic, almost blanket-sized wrap in muted shades of orange and gold.  I was dying for a slightly warmer day to wear the cloak for my 90-minute commute by car, subway and foot to Washington D.C.  This last, less frigid day before another round of wintry weather arrived seemed like an ideal occasion for an enveloping cape.

I started with baggy sufi pants by medieval costumer Moresca, which would allow room for toasty long underwear beneath the trousers.  I added a simple brown sweater by Joseph A. and rich, cognac-hued riding boots by Brash which I purchased in New York City just before Christmas.  I wrapped the super-sized cape around me and let the fringe dangle.  I added a wide bracelet of pale wooden beads and a pair of earrings carved from oak to round out my look.

A chill wind picked up in the afternoon, bringing with it barometric changes that foretold the coming storm.  But I was snugly enrobed in my cocoon of soft wool, feeling as if, at any moment, the wind would fill my cape like a sail and lift me to the heavens, Flying Nun style, with fringe fluttering, where I would swiftly flit far above the commuters sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic below.  A girl can dream!
Cheers,
Lynell

Space And Time

Costumed characters greeted patrons at the BSO's
Sci-Fi Spectacular concert on February 22

It was an uncharacteristically mild (for February) Saturday night in Maryland.  I had tickets to the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra’s Sci-Fi Spectacular, a program of mesmerizing compositions from such well-known movies as Star Wars, E.T., Close Encounters Of The Third Kind, and 2001: A Space Odyssey.  Since this was to be a more laid back symphonic production, conducted by the BSO’s esteemed Pops conductor Jack Everly instead of music director Marin Alsop, I chose more casual attire for the evening.

Having spent most of the afternoon attending the American Craft Council’s annual craft show at the Baltimore Convention Center, I decided the same outfit was quite appropriate (and comfortable) for the evening’s venue, as well: a pair of copper-colored BrazilRoxx jeans with shiny studwork and shimmering embroidery, paired with a gossamer shawl by Sterling Styles.  I changed only my top, switching from a simple cotton tank to a sequin-covered camisole by Ann Klein.  With glittery copper earrings from Chico’s to highlight a gorgeous electroplated oak leaf necklace from Nature's Creations which I found at the craft show, I added only a copper bracelet and a “dea dread” hair comb before making my way to the Joseph B. Meyerhoff Symphony Hall in Baltimore City’s arts and culture district.

The Meyerhoff Symphony Hall is
 a study in modern architecture

A lone Storm-Trooper "guards" the
stage before the concert begins

The evening was delightful. Characters dressed in realistic costumes from various science fiction adventures greeted patrons in the lobby of the symphony hall before the concert.  As I took my seat in the beautiful and modern auditorium, which was designed and built in 1978 by the architectural firms Pietro Belluschi and Jung/Brannen Associates, an “armed” storm-trooper stood sentinel at the front of the 65- by 35-foot stage while musicians warmed up behind him with their instruments.

George Takei and Kristen
Plumley added an authentic
note to the evening

Shortly after Maestro Everly took the stage and led the orchestra through a rousing rendition of John Williams’ main Star Wars theme, we were treated to a medley of theme songs from some of the syndicated television shows of my youth, including My Favorite Martian, Lost in Space and Twilight Zone, after which members of the audience were invited to raise their hands to name at least four of the shows whose unforgettable music we had just heard.  It was a riot.

These Star Wars characters helped
put patrons in the mood for space
music

But the highlight for me was when George Takei took the stage to thunderous applause and, after bantering with the audience for a few minutes about how Baltimore compared to Los Angeles, narrated the introductory sequence to the original Star Trek series, “Where No Man Has Gone Before” as the orchestra played the familiar refrain in the background.  Then, just as magically, soprano Kristen Plumley, attired in Lieutenant Uhuru’s dress uniform, took her place on stage to intone the soaring melody as the orchestra enchanted the audience with the Star Trek suite. I was entranced.

Following an intermission, we were treated to compositions from The Day The Earth Stood Still, as well as additional works from Star Wars and Close Encounters. Each piece of music was accompanied by a laser show bouncing rays of colorful light off the walls and ceiling of the symphony hall. Altogether, the evening made for a spellbinding trip down memory lane – from the far reaches of the universe.
Cheers,
Lynell

“Space, the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Its five-year mission: to explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before.” ~ Star Trek’s introductory sequence, narrated by William Shatner at the beginning of all but one of the series’ original episodes.

American Crafts

Kevin Loughran of House Jewelry, makes artisanal switch-
plates and doorbell covers, as well as other accoutrements
 for the home

In my opinion, the be-all, end-all to craft shows is the American Craft Council’s annual late winter show at the Baltimore Convention Center, the largest in the nation.  Since the first time I attended this juried event almost a decade ago, I have been blown away each year by the talent with which my countrymen (and women) are imbued.

This year’s ACC show was no exception.  And for once, Old Man Winter took a breather and allowed me to attend the event in heels and a delicate top instead of snow boots and an overcoat.  The crafts were absolutely amazing.

Over 600 booths filled the vast auditorium near Baltimore’s Inner Harbor.  Everything from textiles and art to jewelry, pottery and furniture was displayed to elegant effect. I always prepare myself to experience sensory overload.   Over the years, however, I have become accustomed to the sheer magnitude of what American crafters create out of their vivid imaginations.  So it was nice to overhear a woman exclaim to her companion upon experiencing the show for the first time that she was “overwhelmed” by all there was to take in.  Exactly.  Her comments brought back fond memories of my first time or two attending this fabulous event.  I smiled at the memory.

In celebration of the unusually mild February temperature, I pulled on a pair of BrazilRoxx jeans, handcrafted with copper studs and glittering embroidery, which I paired with a simple lace-trimmed cotton camisole by Eyeshadow and a filmy shawl by Sterling Styles, given to me by my dear friends, Robert and Jan, who themselves are loyal attendees at this event, although they always go on the day the show is open to shopkeepers who buy wholesale.  I rounded out my outfit with almond-toed platform booties from Spiegel.com, a pair of earrings with citrine and amber stones set in silver from Fire & Ice jewelers of Baltimore, and a matching necklace from Russia featuring a hand painted ceramic brooch.

These brass and copper switchplates
now grace several rooms in my home

For this year’s craft show, I planned ahead.  Long a fan of California’s Kevin Loughran, who makes what he refers to as jewelry for the home, I counted the visible switchplates and outlet plates in my 150-year-old farmhouse.  Many years ago I had purchased one of Kevin’s gorgeous, custom-crafted brass and copper plates for my dining room dimmer switch, and promised myself that someday I would buy matching switchplates for the other rooms in my home.   This was the year!

Throughout the afternoon I perused booth after booth of exquisite jewelry, clothing, blown glass objets d’art and fine woodworking specimens, eventually coming upon Kevin‘s “House Jewelry” booth.  Mr. Loughran was surprised and pleased by my order: eight single switchplates, three double switchplates and a half dozen outlet plates.  As I munched on a turkey wrap at a nearby table, Loughran’s staff collected my pieces from their show inventory and bagged them for me. I was ecstatic that he had them all in stock.  Talk about instant gratification!

Dennis Ray shows off
his beautiful creations
made from leaves

A few rows later, I came upon another cubicle whose contents I could not resist: natural leaves and acorns electroplated with copper, brass and gold and made into exquisite, one-of-a-kind jewelry.  I quickly gave in to temptation and placed a copper-covered oak leaf necklace at my throat.  It was breathtaking.  And it was from a Maryland tree!  The craftsman, Dennis Ray of Rockville, Maryland, locally harvests leaves and twigs for his business, Nature’s Creations, although he is happy to electroplate almost any leaf you send him from anywhere in the world.  I just had to have one of his unique pieces which, by the way, can be worn as a pin or as a necklace.

I love my new necklace!

As a longtime member of the American Craft Council, I wholeheartedly support these and other talented Americans who have made it their life’s work to create whimsy and beauty in our world.
Cheers,
Lynell


"Sometimes your heart speaks best through your hands" ~ The Knit Cafe

All Wrapped Up

There was a momentary lapse in the snowy, wintry weather.  I still had five inches of the white stuff on the ground, with another couple of inches forecast for that evening.  But for a sliver of a day on the 18th of February, the temperature warmed and the barest hint of spring was in the air.  I was ecstatic to be temporarily relieved of the bitter cold, and I’m a gal who loves the cold!

I grabbed the opportunity to shed thermal underwear, heavy outerwear and furry boots and don something a little more feminine for a change. Black moleskin gauchos from Rod’s Western Wear were on my mind, paired with a simple cashmere sweater that I’ve owned for decades, and a pair of super-comfy booties by Pink & Pepper that were loose enough to wear with thick ski socks. I would, after all, be walking across the long parking lot at the subway station on the outskirts of Washington D.C. on my way to a day of research at the Library of Congress, which meant standing on an exposed, elevated outdoor platform to await my train.  The temperature might have risen above freezing for a few hours, but the air still had a frosty bite.

My “statement piece” for the day was a dramatic paisley shawl, which I wrapped around my shoulders and secured in place with a small brooch. I received the cozy wrap as a gift from my dear friends, Robert and Jan, several years ago when they returned from one of their many overseas trips. Adding only some casual chandelier earrings made from orange disks to brighten my look, I declared myself ready to absorb some winter sun and headed out into the day.
Cheers,
Lynell

Red Velvet... What?

I was taken out for dinner on February 15 by my frequent companion and former husband, Jesse, to celebrate Valentine’s Day.  Our destination was the Highland Inn, a new restaurant only open since the beginning of January, which is the mastermind of esteemed Baltimore County chef, Brian Boston, who made a name for himself with his highly regarded Milton Inn restaurant, a fabulously romantic dining destination housed in a 272-year-old fieldstone lodge in historic Sparks, Maryland.

Boston’s latest eatery, located in a decidedly newer farmhouse (early 1900s) in Clarksville, Maryland, puts the chef’s stamp on Howard County, a moneyed municipality south of Baltimore toward Washington D.C.  Boston, named Chef of the Year in 2011 by the Restaurant Association of Maryland, has dedicated his newest establishment to sustainable foods from local farmers in a certified green building retrofitted with geo-thermal heating and cooling. He hopes to appeal to the District of Columbia crowd, and I don’t blame him. They’re big spenders.

Chef Brian Boston

For this auspicious occasion I donned a little black dress by Joneswear, which I picked up for a song during a Macy's sale last summer. I added my all-time favorite gems from Fire & Ice jewelers in Baltimore: citrine and garnet earrings, bracelet and necklace, and added a wrist full of gold-tone bangles I found in my stocking this past Christmas. Together with sky-high platform pumps by Call It Spring and a sequined handbag I’ve owned for ages, I was ready to step out into almost two feet of snow to commemorate Lupercalia.

I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when a cocktail in the Highland Inn’s lounge was $14. It was a very good cocktail, but the steep Washington D.C. price tag for a pre-dinner libation was a bit of a shock. The Valentine menu, however, was prix fixe, so I was able to relax and enjoy the evening without worrying about unintentionally breaking the bank.  Walls were decorated with the artwork of renowned equestrian sports painter, Sam Robinson, which lent a well-heeled vibe to the atmosphere. 

Following a delightful amuse-bouche of scallops with fennel relish and blood orange gastrique, my date and I shared a first course of lobster bisque and honey roasted baby beets with frisee and goat cheese.  For our entrée, we thought ourselves terribly clever when Jesse chose lobster tail and I chose steak and then had our waiter split the plates so we each had a meal of perfectly prepared steak and lobster.  With a shared chocolate truffle tort to end our meal, we declared our Valentine supper very, very good, but agreed that nothing will ever compare to the unsurpassed elegance, romantic ambiance and superb cuisine at chef Boston’s original Milton Inn.

Roasted beets lent their crimson
color to my red velvet cake

Poured into a cookie sheet for
baking, the batter was definitely red

Not to be outdone by an upstart restaurant, I baked a red velvet cake for Jesse the next evening.  Not just any red velvet cake, mind you, but one which would get its ruby hue from beets instead of food coloring, courtesy of Food & Wine magazine’s February 2014 issue.  It was my way of injecting a healthy dose of vegetables into an otherwise nutrient-void confection.

The recipe called for a pound of fresh beets, roasted in the oven and then pureed and combined with flour, butter and almost a dozen eggs.  The frosting called for two pounds of sugar!  In an attempt at calorie-consciousness, I substituted Splenda, and while the outcome was quite pretty, my cake tasted heavily of beets (no surprise there) and was dense enough to use as a hockey puck.

The oddly puckered cookie-sheet cake
was then sliced into fourths and
layered between coatings of cream-
cheese icing 

The end result was attractive and
the Splenda-filled icing was not bad,
but the cake itself was an
impenetrable disaster 

I read some online reviews of the recipe before publishing this post, and was relieved to see that every single reviewer had similar results (even without the sugar substitute).  You all know that my successes have been mostly hit and miss with baking, so I felt a degree of vindication that the less than satisfactory results were not my exclusive province.

The snow was just starting to fall when
I took this photo on Valentine's Day. I
ended up with almost two feet of snow

My cousin in Wyoming
sent me these beautiful
flowers and an adorable
teddy bear with
chocolate!

No matter.  After shoveling 21 inches of “Valentine snow” from the 110-foot gravel driveway leading to my 150-year-old farmhouse in Baltimore County, I felt I’d earned the right to consume a delicious, if highly caloric, Valentine dinner out on Saturday night – and to taste and then discard (with Jesse's blessing) my less-than-satisfactory beet-infused effort the following day.
Cheers,
Lynell

A Garden In Her Pocket

I’ve been on hiatus, friends, very busy with work and a bit overwhelmed by life for the past few weeks. I am getting back on track now and will be catching everyone up, hopefully, with all I’ve been doing since, well.. since the Superbowl.

Let’s start with February 7.  In my post of January 28, I told you all about my friend, Anna, a talented chemist for the state of Maryland and a respected professor who is suffering her third recurrence of an insidious brain tumor which has finally left her bedridden at a nursing home in Baltimore, Maryland, where I live.  With none of her relatives living nearby and visitors few and far between, I have struggled with how best to help Anna cope with long hours spent staring out her hospital room window.  There is only so much public television one can watch, after all.  

Too weak to hold a book or turn its pages, it hit me that Anna might enjoy listening to “books on tape”, so I launched a project, which is to say that I contacted my good friend and fellow board member at Soldiers Delight Conservation, Inc., who is also a longtime employee of the Baltimore County Public Library system.  Jason not only gave me a comprehensive overview of how the library’s “books on tape” system works, but very generously donated a portable CD player he no longer uses and a brand new set of earbuds for Anna’s utilization.

I prepared a basket to hold Anna’s goodies – the player and the earbuds and a pack of extra batteries.  I visited my local branch of the library and checked out two audiotapes I thought Anna might enjoy: one scientific and the other a novel about elephants, and made a pretty tag with Anna’s name and hospital room number and a list of the contents. 

Then I thought about ways the now waif-like Anna might regain enough strength to eventually hold and enjoy an actual book.  Getting some nutrients into her seemed like a good idea.  Anna told me she disliked the bland, institutional food and wasn’t eating.

I thought about what sustenance Anna might enjoy.  She told me that before falling ill, she had been learning all about Afghanistan. I remembered an Afghan favorite, kaddo bowrani, a dish of sumptuous chunks of sugared pumpkin fried in oil and herbs and served with a tangy garlic-yogurt sauce.  It is a specialty of the house at Baltimore’s Helmand restaurant, owned by Qayum Karsai, brother of the president of Afghanistan.  The restaurant kindly published their recipe for kaddo bowrani in the Baltimore Sun newspaper several years ago and I jumped at the chance to make it that year as a Thanksgiving appetizer.  

But this was February.  Where would I get fresh pumpkin at this time of year?  I put in a call to  Asad Akbari, manager of the Helmand in Baltimore.  Do they serve their baked pumpkin appetizer all year long, and if so, where on earth do they get their fresh pumpkin? I asked.  “We grow them ourselves”, Mr. Akbari replied, “and then we keep them in a cold storeroom all winter."  I explained my plight and offered to buy a pumpkin from the restaurant, but upon hearing Anna’s story, Mr. Akbari wouldn’t hear of it.  “I shall give you a pumpkin for Anna”, he said.  I picked up the gourd from the Helmand the very next day.

A basket to hold Anna's books on tape, and food
containers with pretty labels combined to form a festive
ensemble for Anna 

A few days later I whipped up a batch of cinnamon-scented kaddo-bowrani before work.  I stirred garlic into thick Greek yogurt and made pretty labels to affix to small containers. I packed up a fork and some napkins.  On my lunch hour, I gathered up the components of my multi-faceted project and drove to the convalescent hospital.

February 7th was very cold.  I insulated myself against the bitter weather with denim leggings by HUE from Macy’s, a ribbed-knit, long-sleeved Tee and a funky new sweater with a cowl neck and bell sleeves by NY Collection, a fabulous find in a box of hand-me-downs I received recently from my best friend’s mother, Joyce, in Spokane, Washington.  Over warm socks I pulled fur-covered Slovakian après-ski boots by Linda and stuck a beribboned dea dread hair comb in my locks. I was ready.

Anna’s face lit up when I entered her hospital room.  But nothing could compare to the delight in her eyes when I opened the container of soft pumpkin and handed her a fork.  Once Anna had eaten her fill, I showed her the basket with the CD player and the audiotapes I had checked out for her.  I made sure to meet with the activities director at the nursing home before I left to explain that someone would need to help Anna get the player started when she was ready to engage with her "books". And someone would need to change the CDs for as long as she wished to listen.  Each “book” consisted of about ten discs.  

We had a wonderful visit, Anna and I.  There was a spring in my step as I left the nursing home that day, made possible by the kindness of people like Jason and Asad Akbari, who didn’t even know Anna, yet reached out to embrace her needs with their compassion and generosity.

For many years Anna volunteered with me at Soldiers
Delight Natural Environment Area.  In this 2009 photo,
Anna shows off grasses native to the serpentine
barrens on which the preserve lies.

I’ve made several visits to Anna since I delivered that first set of books on tape.  Yesterday I retrieved from her The Dressmaker of Khair Khana, a novel about five Afghan sisters who built a successful business in Kabul despite harassment by the Taliban.  She loved it.  Anna was delighted to tell me that she had eaten all the nuts and apples I’d brought her on my last visit, and wants more.

In a week or two I will bring her Life At The Speed Of Light, a book by J. Craig Venter, the scientist famed for his role in sequencing the human genome, who details an ambitious vision for a future in which custom-made organisms heal the planet, sure to get Anna’s scientific brain cells firing happily.

It isn’t always convenient or even particularly fun to help someone in need.  I don’t know Anna all that well, and like most institutional facilities, the ambience at Anna’s convalescent hospital is a bit dreary; the sight of so many patients in various stages of diminished capacity shuffling the hallways and mumbling incomprehensibly can be depressing indeed. But if not me to temporarily dispel Anna’s boredom, then who?  The joy on Anna’s face when I walk into her room makes my heart sing.  We don’t always realize how much a kind word or deed resonates. But it does.
Cheers,
Lynell
A book is like a garden carried in the pocket. ~ Chinese Proverb

Fetching Warmth

It may only have been for an hour in the middle of the day, but the temperature in the mid-Atlantic actually got above the freezing mark last Thursday as I made my way back and forth between my home in Baltimore County, Maryland, and the National Library of Medicine in Washington, D.C.  As has been my sartorial habit for the past few weeks, I’ve been layering; dressing more for warmth than for style.  Turns out, however, that the two aren’t mutually exclusive.

It was all about the boots.  I wanted relatively flat heels for all the walking I do across the vast campus of the National Institutes of Health, including a hefty climb up the 202-foot long escalator at the Medical Center subway stop. I suppose I could just ride the escalator and not climb it, but what fun would that be?  There are 340 steps from station to surface and even though I am in great shape, I still find myself a little breathless when I reach the top.  Much as I love them, I’d just as soon not have to contend with high heels in that endeavor.  A pair of fabulous Zane boots by Brash were the one souvenir I brought home from a recent trip to New York City. I loved their rich cognac color when I first set eyes on them and was wowed by how comfortable they were for walking all over the Big Apple. So I formed Thursday’s outfit around the boots.

Comfortable vintage leggings by Jacques Moret in a rich chocolate seemed right, as did a brown long-sleeved T-shirt by Fruit-of-The-Loom.  I grabbed a grayish-green “boyfriend” sweater by Laura Scott which has been hanging in my closet since before the term was coined. It seemed to complement the neutral palette I was assembling to mirror the barren winter landscape.  For fun and extra warmth, I pulled on a pair of faux fox boot-toppers with studded faux-leather detailing by Fabulous Furs, a gift from my best friend, Kari, on my birthday last September, and wrapped a super warm scarf around my neck which tied all the wintery hues together.  When Kari’s mother, Joyce, in Spokane, Washington, sent me that scarf many years ago, I thought I would never have anything to wear it with.  But it has turned out to be a terrific winter accessory and I have appreciated its toastiness on many occasions over the years. On this day it served me well by bringing a coordinated kick to my look.

Upon my arrival at the National Library of Medicine, I set down my briefcase and proceeded toward the reference desk to pick up some books I had requisitioned from the library’s extensive holdings.  I passed two African-American women who were so smartly dressed they looked like they had come fresh from a magazine photo-shoot.  I couldn’t help but compliment them on their stylish attire.  In turn, both ladies said they had been “checking me out” and loved my cold-weather outfit.  That made me feel really good.

On the way home from work, I stopped at the supermarket to pick up some provisions for Superbowl Sunday.  Two men pushing a shopping cart laden with beverages and game-day snacks stopped to tell me how much they liked my boots.  And here I thought there was no panache to my drab winter ensemble.

By the time I returned to northwest Baltimore County, Maryland, at the end of the day, the temperature had dipped back into the 20s. But I remained gemütlich in the knowledge that cold-weather garments can be fetching as well as warm.
Cheers,
Lynell

Polar Vortex

It’s a new phrase, polar vortex.  Means “damn cold”, primarily in places where it shouldn’t be.  People in the upper Midwest, Cleveland and the Dakotas are used to temperatures dipping below zero in winter.  Alabama and Georgia?  Not so much.  For me, living here in Baltimore County, Maryland, at the north end of what is known as the mid-Atlantic (the “New England” states start just 30 miles to the north of me in Pennsylvania), temperatures below zero, whether actual or with the wind-chill factored in, are an anomaly.  Needless to say, we’ve been breaking records here in Baltimore for the past few weeks.

That said, I dressed for warmth, not style last week for my commute to the Library of Congress in Washington D.C.  I wanted to be plenty insulated while standing on the elevated, outdoor platform awaiting my subway train into the District of Columbia.  The winds were gusting, making it feel like 10 degrees below zero, according to the weather service.  I didn’t care how bulky I looked. I just wanted to be warm.

I started with long underwear from Recreational Equipment, Inc. (REI).  Over that I layered a pair of loose-fitting, vintage pinstriped jeans by Lee.  I topped my thermal undershirt with a thick turtleneck sweater by Papagallo, woven of super soft Polyester yarn. I gathered my hair up under a brown leather newsboy cap by Liz Claiborne and added a pair of earrings from Fire & Ice jewelers of Baltimore which featured chocolate crystals and iridescent beads. I added champagne-colored booties by American Eagle and a furry brown neck wrap, the latter a birthday gift last year to my sister, Leslie, from my brother, Dave, and his wife, Jane.  Living in sunny California the way she does, Leslie said she doesn’t have any need for fuzzy neckwear.  She asked if I would like to have the scarf, as well as a set of matching earmuffs.  Indeed. I thought of the east coast’s “Snowmaggedon” of 2010 and snatched the plush accessories out of her outstretched hands.  

Snuggled in this warm attire, I set out for work.  No amount of frosty air could penetrate my cozy layers.  In the midst of the polar vortex, I was toasty as could be.
Cheers,
Lynell

Visiting Anna

It was blustery last week when I made my way south from my home in Baltimore County, Maryland, to the Library of Congress in our nation’s capitol for a day of research on behalf of my employer.  I needed an outfit under which I could hide long underwear and thick socks for my 90-minute commute by car, foot and subway train through what was forecast to be the “seasonally brisk” winter weather so typical this time of year in the mid-Atlantic region of the United States.

I layered, of course, starting with a nice warm pair of moleskin gauchos from Rods Western Wear over thermal undies.  I paired the cropped trousers with a comfortable Bulgarian-made top with three-quarter-length sleeves by Tribal Sportswear which was a gift to me last year from my best friend’s mother, Joyce, in Spokane, Washington, over which I added a thick, knit poncho from Fritelli & Lockwood, purveyors of elegant hand-woven and custom-tailored garments, which I discovered at the Baltimore Convention Center’s annual juried American Craft Council show several Februaries ago.  I loved the fringed poncho so much I bought two in different colors and have never regretted the splurge.

With my brown attire echoing the barren winter landscape, I pulled on cognac-hued Zane riding boots by Brash, a recent purchase in New York City with unusual "outside zipper" detailing, and a chunky necklace of wooden beads that belonged to my mother in the 1970s.  I set out on my way. The air was sharp and freezing rain threatened, but I was snuggly in my woolens and knits.

On the way home from Washington, D.C., I stopped at a nursing home in Baltimore City where I recently learned resides an old friend of mine, Anna, a Morgan State university professor and scientist for the state of Maryland whose specialty, interestingly enough, is cement and concrete chemistry.  

Anna and I got to know each other as longtime volunteers at Soldiers Delight Natural Environment Area in northwest Baltimore County, which encompasses an unusual ecosystem known as the Serpentine barrens, home to 39 species of rare and/or endangered plants and animals.  Anna was fascinated by the flora and fauna of Soldiers Delight and spent time researching Serpentine chickweed, even writing a paper about it. Felled in recent years by a recurring brain tumor, Anna is bedridden now but no less keen in mind and manner.  I was anxious to see how she was doing.

We had a wonderful visit.  Anna was greeted warmly by the nurses who came in from time to time to check on her.  She told me she is treated well at this facility and is quite content.  I was pleased to see several pieces from Anna’s extensive art collection, including her own brightly colored works, adorning her hospital-room walls.

Anna and I used to volunteer together
at Soldiers Delight Natural
Environment Area

It might have been a bracing winter’s day outside, but my outlook was warmed considerably by sharing some quality time with a dear acquaintance. You know, it felt really good to lift the spirits of an old friend.
Cheers,
Lynell

Corbett General Store

In 1719, a man named Joseph Cromwell came into ownership of a parcel of land in northeastern Baltimore County, Maryland, which became known as Cromwell’s Park.  In 1864, part of Cromwell’s Park was sold to Isaac Corbett. This was just two years after Rezin Worthington, a relative of settler John Worthington, after whom Worthington Valley in northern Baltimore County is named, constructed a humble farmhouse some thirty miles west of Cromwell’s Park – a wood and plaster structure which I have called home since 2001.  But I digress.

Immediately after buying Cromwell’s Park in 1864, Isaac Corbett deeded a small parcel of his land to the Northern Central Railroad for a flag station (so called because the train only stopped when a signal indicated the presence of passengers or cargo).  The area became known then as Corbett’s Station. Interestingly, a provision of that early deed stipulated that if no passengers were picked up at the train station for two weeks straight, the land would revert back to Corbett.  The tactic worked for several years and the stop at Corbett’s Station stayed busy -- allowing growth and construction to accelerate in nearby communities, although the only structures near the station itself were a stone house and a stately Greek revival home down the street owned by William Gwynn.

This covered bridge on Corbett Road was photographed
in 1938 by the Poteet family

By 1881, the flag station had fallen into disuse and was torn down. In 1886 a builder named Daniel Alder bought the land.  Almost immediately, Alder set to work erecting himself “a town”.  Alder first constructed a road right through the property on which the railroad station had stood. His new road extended across the Gunpowder River, complete with a covered bridge, and connected with the main north-south route between Baltimore and York, Pennsylvania.

This photograph of the general store was taken in 1982

In 1883 Alder erected his first building on the new “Corbett Road”, a large “six-bay by two-bay” structure which housed a general store, post office, Methodist church, wheelwright and blacksmith shops and…a brand new railroad station.  In 1885, a lumberman named Robert Merryman moved his saw mill to Corbett, attracted by the land’s proximity to the railroad.  With this ready source of lumber, the town of Corbett grew and prospered. By 1890 the blacksmith and wheelwright shops had been relocated down the street into the new “Corbett Village”.  The train station enjoyed busy service once again, shipping milk from area farmers and materials to and from the saw mill.  There was a steady flow of passenger traffic.

My maternal grandfather, Earl Myers,
worked as a telegraph operator for
the North Central Railroad in 1910

Around 1892, the year my maternal grandfather was born just to the north in York, Pennsylvania, a man named John Slade bought the thriving Corbett general store and post office and expanded, building a warehouse and stable nearby. An 1896 tax list describes the general store this way: “...a frame store/dwelling [with a} combined stable/coalhouse building, warehouse… and outbuildings.”  That same year a schoolhouse was constructed in the village and the Methodist church moved its services there. In the early 1900s a father-son medical practice was established in Corbett, which became the impetus for formation of one of the very first telephone systems in the region.

Although the town seemed robust, times were challenging.  In 1900 the saw mill closed. By 1911 my grandfather had made his way west from Pennsylvania to California to seek his fortune with the railroad there.  In the 1930s the Corbett farm machinery shop shut down.  Despite eventual closure of all the other commercial businesses in town, Corbett’s identity survived because of the general store and post office at 1702 Corbett Road.  Finally, in 1944, the post office closed and mail was thereafter re-routed through the neighboring community of Monkton, Maryland.

The old Northern Central Railway, which once carried
President Lincoln north to deliver his Gettysburg Address,
is now a hiking and biking trail

In the 1960s local train service was halted to Corbett and the station was demolished once again.  In 1972 flood damage to the tracks from Hurricane Agnes led to total abandonment of the line, which in more modern times has become a popular hiking and biking trail. That same year, a young couple by the name of Paul and Dee Dee Phillips bought the old general store and set about converting the stately Victorian structure into a single family dwelling where they settled and raised their two children.  

With a degree in interior design, Dee Dee Phillips and her husband reformed the old general store into a lovely home, outfitted with an impressive collection of antique furniture and artifacts, the fruits of an eventual thirty-year career selling fine antiques and exhibiting at some of the most prestigious antique shows across the country.  Despite being selected by Martha Stewart to design a room in her Westport, Connecticut showhouse, Dee Dee longed for a more intimate creative outlet that would make “her soul laugh and her heart sing”.

Paul and Dee Dee's gift shop on Fenwick
 Island is on my must-see list for next summer!

In the summer of 1992, Dee Dee followed her muse and opened Carolina Street, a furniture store and gift shop on nearby Delaware’s Fenwick Island.  Using her well-trained eye, Dee Dee curated her shop with attractive home furnishings, one-of-a-kind art objects, whimsical garden accoutrements and unique gifts.  The business thrived and, although their children are now grown with little ones of their own, Dee Dee and Paul continue to live in the old general store on Corbett Road in Monkton during the off-season, and spend their summers in an apartment above their furniture gallery on Fenwick Island.  On January 3, it was my good fortune to accept an invitation to the historic general store in Corbett for a festive dinner party.

In the early 1980s, when my former husband and perpetual friend, Jesse Turner, was married to his first wife, Adrienne, Jesse got to know Paul and Dee Dee through his then mother-in-law, who also sold antiques.  Paul and Dee Dee’s path serendipitously crossed with Jesse’s again a few months ago when Dee Dee found herself enrolled in a seminar with Jesse at Landmark Education (see my post about Landmark from last February).  Dee Dee and Paul quickly arranged for a dinner party to renew acquaintance with their old friend.  I was invited to tag along.

From their apartment above the store, Paul and Dee Dee
look down on a multitude of garden accoutrements
for sale in their courtyard

Despite record cold and icy conditions, I was excited to meet Dee Dee and Paul and see this converted general store for myself. There would be seven of us, most of whom had been participants in the Landmark seminar.  It was to be a casual dinner, yet I wanted to add a bit of sparkle to the evening, so I wore a swanky new top embellished with glittering sequins from Boston Proper which was a Christmas gift last month from my best friend, Kari, in Dallas, Texas. I paired the sweater with HUE leggings from Macy’s and some vintage boots by Pleaser which I bought in the 1970s as I worked my way through college.

Paul Phillips, left, and his wife, Dee Dee, in the comfortable
living room of their historic "Corbett general store" home,
now part of  Monkton, Maryland

Jesse and I made our way carefully across the frozen countryside to the Phillips’ historic abode.  The exterior of the old general store looked much like it did in the 1800s, with large windows which I could imagine once displayed the accoutrements of 19th century life – washboards and coffee mills, lye soap and treadle sewing machines.  The interior was charming.  Dee Dee was eager to show me around the central level of the spacious home.  The living room, which had been the main room of the general store, still sports a massive wall of floor-to-ceiling wooden cabinets and display shelving, which Dee Dee has lovingly stuffed to the gills with the sundries of a lifetime spent hunting and gathering unusual and beautiful specimens of American decorative art from all over the mid-Atlantic’s Chesapeake Bay.

Julia's mural of
pink azaleas is
just stunning  

Julia's depiction of zebra hide
on hardwood flooring is to
die for. This pattern would
be perfect on the floor in
my home office

During a course of cocktails and brie with crackers, we warmed ourselves by a cast iron woodstove which was stoked to its limits against the unprecedented cold outside.  Paul and Dee Dee said they owed the healthy stack of firewood to their daughter, Julia, who had been by earlier in the day.  Julia has grown up to be a successful artist and purveyor of fine furniture in her own right. She and her husband, James O’Reilly, own Monkton Studios, where Julia’s considerable talent is put to use decorating dressers and chests.  Perhaps most impressively, Julia also offers her artistic skills in unbelievably gorgeous faux-finishes and mural-painting.  I was blown away by some of the work displayed on her website.

The ambiance in each antique-filled room was enchanting.
The dining room looked so warm and inviting, one could
scarcely remember the frigid weather outside 

Alas, two of the invitees to sup at Paul and Dee Dee’s were not willing to risk the icy driving conditions so far out in the county, so only five of us eventually sat down to dinner in Paul and Dee Dee’s formal dining room.  The table, set with fine china and lit by candlelight, was breathtaking.  Paul made scrumptious chili; Dee Dee added a tasty tossed green salad and savory muffins.  We finished with Paul's fabulous rum cake and some decadent pieces of chocolate-covered orange and lemon rind.  Nobody wanted to leave such a magical setting!

But the roads were only getting more slick, so eventually we said our goodbyes and ventured out of the old Corbett general store and into the frozen night, warmed for our long drive back by new acquaintances begun and old friendships rekindled.
Cheers,
Lynell
"Those who bring sunshine into the lives of others cannot keep it from themselves" (a quote by James Barrie from Paul and Dee Dee's Carolina Street website)