one day my kitchen will be redone. hopefully, sooner rather than later. considering that josh and i are rolling stones, never staying in one place too long, we have chosen to stick with a neutral grey/white palette, using color in places where it can easily be changed should we have to pull up anchor in a heartbeat. but often i run across rooms that have shunned neutrality and embraced bold hues instead. they make me dream—in color—of stability and roots. sigh.
team rushing camped out two weekends ago for ethan’s 6th birthday (we had an awesome time btw). though i’m not much of an organized cook at home, for some reason i really got into campfire-meal planning and worked for weeks on our five squares. our campers unanimously agree that the s’mores stole the show. we decided to have fun with them and try some fancy flavor options: nutella, peanut butter, caramel sauce, el rey chocolate, toffee, sliced banana and fresh strawberry.
i think josh captured the essence of s’morefest 2012 beautifully.
marshmallows roasting on an open fire
a successful tool is one that was used to do something undreamt of by its author.~stephen c. johnson
s’moregasm
it happens. :)
what yummies would you mush between a crisp graham and roasted marshmallow?
i’m so proud of my husband, josh rushing, who has been published in the center for fine art photography’s most recent book! josh shot these aerial tilt-shift photos, which also took first place in fine art photography portfolio in fotoweek DC 2011, from a blackhawk while flying over baghdad.
here’s one of my favorites and josh’s description:
Baghdad: A Model City (3/12)
Since the US invasion of Iraq eight years ago, I’ve been to Baghdad eight times. I first arrived in the city as a US Marine in April 2003 with the invading forces. I’ve returned as a journalist on seven more occasions. I’ve witnessed Baghdad morph and contort like no other city: from the open, uncertain, early days of the occupation to ground zero of a bloody civil war to a labyrinth of cement T-walls that give inhabitants the feeling of rats in a maze never finding the cheese.
This series of aerial, tilt-shift photos offers a glimpse of Baghdad’s unbounded future—a hope for a new Baghdad: a model city known for its own treasures instead of the violence unleashed by the course of recent history. As the US military withdraws, this scarred city is tentatively blossoming anew. Tourist attractions like the 180-foot-high ferris wheel ask visitors to see Baghdad as something other than a battleground and recognize that the last eight years are but a single grain joining three thousand years of sand in the base of Baghdad’s ancient hourglass.
you can check out more of josh’s photos on flickr.
we’re going camping tomorrow to celebrate ethan’s 6th birthday! it’s our first such outing since our little ones started arriving and everyone’s really excited. i’ll share pics and details next week! happy weekend!
you all probably know by now that i have a serious crush on painted floors. i could totally see this chevron in the kids’ room. i mean, honestly, how cool is this?!
the lines of our home are really square—with the exception of one small round window. cute but odd. i dream of adding more curves and charm to our home’s façade, but we did not win the lottery a couple of weeks ago which means that i’ll have to work with what i’ve got. in that spirit a diamond pattern would play off of our home’s (we’ll call them) clean lines while simultaneously adding contrast and visual movement.
i wish i knew what is planted between these pavers. thyme, perhaps?
now, wouldn’t that be nice? over 10 years ago i tried growing thyme between stones in my first garden. we lived in san diego and the little herbs should have been infallible. had they been given a fighting chance, i’m sure they would have been. i was young and inexperienced in all things—though especially as a gardener—and the plants withered. it was painful to watch. i will have thyme again one day, mark my words. and between the stones of a permeable driveway would be way cool…
i do so love pebbled walks. i had no idea they’d support the weight of a car though. we drive a… and i’m a little embarrassed to say this… sequoia that weighs over 5600 pounds. empty. it sure isn’t environmentally friendly, so we need to make up for that with a green driveway.
i’d probably try to get all fancy with the design because i have a tendency to complicate everything. and because i’ve been fawning over pebble mosaics for months now.
while many of the permeable surfaces that i’ll post today feature grass, i actually prefer different plantings like these. i’d use pea gravel or green pavers instead of cement though…
our love nest desperately needs some water runoff tlc. when it rains my front lawn becomes a river that steals precious topsoil (and who knows what else) from my hydrangea trees and gifts it to our neighbors downstream. i’m really worried that we’ll lose the gorgeous trees featured here (yes, they recovered and are leafing out nicely. thank you for asking.) if we don’t do something soon.
we aren’t the only ones: our hilly hood is nestled between streams and many of my neighbors have similar problems. recently, our neighborhood newsletter suggested replacing traditional driveways with tree-hugging permeable surfaces that collect rainwater by allowing it to soak into the ground. it’s a coincidentally stylish solution i’ve loved for a long time.
our gardener quoted us $1300 to install a french drain beneath our driveway—an asphalt one in dire need of resurfacing. i wonder what busting up our blemished beater would involve? can’t you just see josh on jackhammer? don’t laugh! these intrepid DIYers did it themselves and they’ve positively inspired me. how hard can it be to install one of these beauties…
this season i’ve planned a playdate for my moonlight chinese hydrangea vine with the shade-tolerant clematis (a word which makes my husband giggle every time i say it. sigh.), ‘multi blue’.
i haven’t been able to resist the gorgeous weather we’ve enjoyed lately. it has lured me outside—and against my better judgement i planted this vine last weekend when everything really began waking up in my garden. tonight a late freeze is forecast and i’m afraid my heart will break if this season’s promising, yet tender, growth is damaged.
over the last few months, we’ve installed a small army of recessed lights on our main level. the work-to-reward ratio creates an incredibly tipsy scale: with a minimal effort our once-cavish space feels larger and more updated. it’s amazing what a little light can do.
i’m not going to lie—i picked these trims because i liked the way they looked (though their LED-ed-ness makes me feel environmentally friendly). their sleek design called to me from home depot’s trim display and of the contenders i thought they would blend best with the ceiling, which they definitely do. they cast a pure white, but not cold, light. sometimes i sit in my living room, happily basking in it.
we installed cans from scratch, which entails pulling new wires through the walls and ceilings and requires a good bit of elbow grease and what limited skills i’ve learned from this project. however, if your cans are already in place and you’re just updating trims, this is definitely a DIY job that needs trace skills. the 4” trims went in a little easier than the 6” trims, which relies on spring-activated legs that will bruise a fingernail and evoke some dirty words if you aren’t paying attention.
here are the cons: 1 | they’re stinkin’ expensive. the 6” models pictured above will set you back $40 a pop. each. 2 | they’re a little wonky with dimmer switches—only certain models work. we like lutron’s switches and a call to the manufacturer, commercial electric, resulted in a list of three compatible switches: DVCL153P, DVWCL153P and DVSCCL153P.
unless you’re wearing a welder’s mask when demoing a ceiling, check for rat poop before pulling down a large section. trust me—today i took a class at the school of hard knocks.
update: considering the stash of acorn shells i found after my shower, i’m guessing i was pelted by squirrel scat. i’m not sure why, but i find this oddly reassuring…
while i always eagerly await winter’s first snow, i’m fickle. pristine white blankets become yellowing dirty tundras and invariably i begin looking forward to spring… just like that.