Vacation and a road trip

I have always loved the excitement of a road trip. The preparations of the journey, the planning of routes, accommodations, sight seeings along the way and the choices of restaurants and last but not least the arrival at one's destination.

Our travels will bring us to South Carolina, a place I love, not just because there is such beauty in the name, but because of it's history and lifestyle. There is certainly a Southerner hidden within me! The slower pace and the French influences, the style, charm and language are dear to me and to spend more time then the average tourist in Savannah,GA adds to the thrill of this year's summer time.

We will stop over near Raleigh, NC. The small town of Wilson will shelter us for the night. The kids are all excited about the hotel and pool after a long journey!

And to sink into the jacuzzi will be IT for hubby and me!

My book list has been modified to put us in the mood and we will listen on the road to our well loved audio version of John Berendt's Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.
A story only life could create so incredibly and perfectly captured by Berendt's effortless prose. Storytelling comes easy to him and this one will hold me tight again. My fascination with crime stories, the South, a slew of eccentric characters, all fueled by his unwavering eye for details will delight me like the first time I read the book, more then 10 years ago.
And no summer is complete without the typical beach readings, easy and fun, entertaining and amusing!
I picked Karen White's Charleston based stories The House On Tradd Street and the sequel to it: The Girl On Legare Street!

Of course there are so many more good reads, loose yourself in a bookstore on any given sweltering day and you surely will find one of those lovely stories, wrapped in local hues, which can transport you to your destination of choice!
Just the other day through this lovely blog I came to discover another Paris story: Hidden In Paris. You can buy it here! The chain reactions in the blog world are sheer endless, one of the many things I so adore about it! 
This tip came from the charming Vicky of French Essence.
Thanks, darling!


Our annual family vacation brings us to a lovely island in South Carolina, only about twenty miles outside  Savannah, GA. 

A beach house awaits us, there will be lots of bicycling, tennis and walking, beach combing and long nights poolside with clam bakes and wine under the stars. 
And I will write about my impressions, dreams and plans.


I will lure my husband to discover Savannah again with me. We will walk hand in hand along streets lined with spanish moss covered oaks and across many small squares. It is something I can't wait to do. Small cafes await...

We've been there for one night years ago on route to Florida. This time it will almost feel as if we were moving there for a while. This truly tickles my fancy!
  

Yesterday's Sunday breakfast

Still at home we have pulled the traveling bags from the attic, the quiet place were our summer dreams camp over the wintertime. Stickers from last years travels to Italy are a reminder of the wonderful time we've all had in Tuscany!
This year will again see all of us together, in-laws, our older children from Germany and the youngsters here!
My packing list sits on my desk, bedroom dressers are open and I can't wait to start packing!
Between bathing suits and sun cream, snorkel equipment and ballet flats, sundresses and shorts I dream of my toes in the sand...loosing myself a little on an endless beach! 


I hope your summer as well comes along nicely, relax and refresh, wherever you are.


xx
Victoria






Pictures as indicated, via google image (map) and my own.

Early summer heat

The early summer heat unravels me. I try to tend the garden, but by late morning the hydrangeas look dead. Only the cooler evening air will revive them. For good measure I am going to water them longer tonight.
I hope for rain, but there are no clouds. 
The midday heat hangs heavy over the garden, the house sits quietly.
There are no sounds.

It's the year of the chipmunks, I watch them play among the flowers and bushes. They are allover the garden this year.
And oblivious to me watching them.

Later in the afternoon the sky begins to look a bit bluish gray.
And then gets solid, there is no blue left. More rumbling above.

I move outside and sit under the umbrella on the small stone patio behind the house and begin to write. I love how it has cooled enough to enjoy the garden. I feel the wind caressing my bare arms and neck, the sweat under my hair begins to dry.  It darkens more and the dog slowly walks over and stretches out next to me. He looks at me warily. The changes of weather make him always uneasy. I weigh the options for rain.
The happy sounds of the two little girls next door carry over the fence and make me smile. 
I feel the rustling of the wind in the trees around me.
My hope rises.
Birds begin to twitter again, but the swallows fly high in the sky. Too high for showers. 
  

An airplane crosses above. I can't see it but hear the faint rumble of the breaking sound barrier. 
Another stir and gust of wind, stronger now. But looking up into the sky all I see is the reemerging sunshine behind the trees, westwards over the Hudson.
It has blown over, no rain yet!








All images by V.Zlotkowski.

Love in a cold climate

You might agree with me: Relationships between parents and their teenage children can be straining at times. Perhaps particularly between mothers and daughters.
Having raised only sons before I am surprised by the fierce opposition by which my 14 year old daughter challenges me. I am slowly getting used to one word answers to well intended questions, or the angry motions with which I am complimented out of her room. That I am in her mind completely lost when it comes to questions of fashion is something I know by now - I am hopelessly old fashioned - and my passions are more then boring. Reading versus texting? Playing piano when I could listen to an Ipod?
I have been reduced to graceful pick ups at midnight and tours to the mall, handing out cash and otherwise staying in the background.
Cooking is not required either, since other mothers provide much more sophisticated meals then I do.
Family time consist mostly of our core family. Mother, father, youngest boy.....and occasional visitors.


After having succumbed to my status I was more then touched, when my girl hopped on the large parental bed a few nights ago, where I was reading late and she suddenly opened up with shining eyes about an older boy who had asked her out...
My husband joined us minutes later and we had the most wonderful, intimate and heartfelt conversation about the pursuits of love. Oh, how I cherish these rare minutes.


Next morning all was obviously forgotten and she left me for the day with a few well placed rude remarks.  Sitting in the car with tears in my eyes I wished her to the furthest camp available. (NOT HAPPENING) Angry and helpless I vowed never to let her bother me again like that!


In the evening I picked her up and she had brought back a small package for me.
Wordlessly she felt I must have forgiven her, but this small gift showed me more then this. She had thought of me, while with her friends out there, perhaps our quarrel must have left her as uncomfortable and sad like me and I realized once more how we both in our mutual disapproval long for each others love.
She had shopped in my favorite place and remembered...

I unwrapped a blue and white mug with my initial and although the handle had not survived the journey (Rather symbolic, don't you think?) I fell in love with it instantly! While we hugged each other I thought how I hold her and her gift close to my heart and it shall remain there, reminding me throughout all these surely to come rough times of our love for each other, our bond.


It takes patience and understanding to deal with a girl smart and independent beyond her years, but it takes unconditional love to endure the sometimes heartless moments between us! 


Slowly growing up and feeling that we can live with each other without loosing independence is something I wish for her to discover. And to still be kind.


Slowly giving her the freedom she so requests and trusting and hoping she will know right from wrong is something I have to learn even faster then I thought.


And in-between there will hopefully be a steady trickle of the things I want her to feel one day all by herself:
Love, compassion and patience!  


I am of course not telling you anything new. 
But I have learned that sharing these difficult moments eases the pressure. Hopefully it makes us feel less lonely in our journey as parents, knowing that we are not alone in our quest for parental skills which might carry us through tough times and good ones alike...


So long, farewell, Auf Wiedersehen!


Victoria

Walks

The last weeks have been walking weeks. Days of exploring different places far away and around where I live. It began earlier in Berlin, Germany and now it has taken me from the shoreline of Long Island Sound to Brooklyn, from Croton Dam to my back yard. I enjoy these walks and now I even try to walk to shops which I thought before beyond reach. Sometimes I have a friend with me, but often I enjoy it all by myself. It takes me from a few minutes to sometimes a few hours.

Walking is not so common around here. The world is set up for driving, there are only a few sidewalks where I live and I have a feeling most people think of it as a sport...which I do not!

I'd rather see myself in the tradition of Goethe and Schiller, H.D.Thoreau, William Wordsworth or the Alcott's for whom walking was, apart from necessity, a way to feel nature and source of inspiration, meditation and romantic love. 

I remember long Sunday walks with my parents and sisters, through summer warm valleys, along rivers, snow laden fields or cool forests. Walking was natural and not something we thought of as a chore.

My children miss this almost entirely. They consider it boring. Or - after sports (!) and homework are too tired to go on walks. 

Walking lets me think, I can sort ideas, make plans, I dream and of course I can stop and watch. Something I love to do! I watch nature, animals, my fellow humans, I walk through the largest picture book and it does not tire me in the least.

I love the water. 

                                                                

And the light.

I watch crumbling houses and smart cats.

The power of water.

Old trees and older stone walls make me feel young and childlike.

But the sky lets me breath and makes me hopeful.

I am grounded.

Just read this:

                                    The immeasurable height

Of woods decaying, never to be decayed,

The stationary blast of waterfalls,

And everywhere along the hollow rent

Winds thwarting winds, bewildered and forlorn,

The torrents shooting from the clear blue sky,

The rocks that muttered close to our ears,

Black drizzling crags that spoke by the wayside

As if a voice were in them, the sick sight

And giddy prospect of a raving stream,

The unfettered clouds and region of the heavens,

Tumult and peace, the darkness and the light -

Were all like workings of the mind, the features

Of the same face, blossoms upon one tree,

Characters of great apocalypse,

The types and symbols of eternity,

Of first and last, and midst, and without end.

  Prelude(1805), vi, 556 -72

William Wordsworth.


No need for anything more! There is no distance between his feelings and mine, there is a bridge of time, I wander back and forth two hundred and six years!






All images by V.Zlotkowski

Days are passing

Detail of a Eugene Grasset poster, 1892

The days are passing much faster then I always anticipate, my niece has come and gone, birthdays were celebrated this June and suddenly it's almost July! 

As I write this so many thoughts are going through my mind. I wish I had a little more time to follow them to make sense of my observations and feelings. To make sense of where I am heading.

One of those trains of thoughts has been dedicated for a long time now towards writing this blog, which has taken on a life of its own.

My intentions were 'simple' in the beginnings : To write about design and lifestyle.

Now I realize it has become a diary of sorts, a place where I am more and more aware of the importance of being an individual instead an observer and commentator of common design ideas.

Over the last months it has started to bother me to paste and copy images from magazines, 

homes I have seen or of the achievements of designers everywhere. It leaves me more dissatisfied, because I miss my own creativity.

I am not sure why this is. Perhaps I have become aware of the repetitive nature and although I am fully aware of things out there new and exciting, they begin to feel like one and the same.

Inside of me is a rebel buried and this one does not let me sit quietly. I am not able to suppress this feeling nor to ignore it any longer. It sits and nags me. Since I fully realized its there I have not been able to enjoy writing about decor, design other then my personal 

musings on life, house and garden.

I have a feeling this blog will need to be re-invented. I absolutely love following all your dedicated blogs on design, but for me it somewhat has run its curse.

I while ago I would have never believed to admit to the fact that I am slightly bored by daily reflections on the latest trends, chairs or wallpaper. My love for great design is undiminished, it's just that I might not write about it anymore as I used to.  

The last thing I want to come across is as a horrible snob. 

The strength of our blog writing lies in the fact that we all believe in the power and meaning of our messages we are sending out and I want desperately to keep it honest.

Slowly my blog has moved into something else, way more towards reflections on my own life, the style I try to evoke or my ideas I feel worth sharing with you. It has less and less to do with me reflecting on other designers or design products. 

It also has become more about writing.

The experience of writing this blog has - so to speak - sharpened my pencil and my thoughts are flowing out, but more often in different direction as I intended for this blog. 

Has this something to do with my age? Or possibly my many times broken career as an artist? I haven't painted in years, yet I still feel like a painter. The writings lined up in my head have not been really conceived, but the thoughts are sitting unwritten and I feel it's time to begin a different journey.

Maybe it will lead to something new. It feels exciting, but maybe it will lead to nowhere.

I am afraid to jinx it....

I am a little afraid.

So if you are willing to spare here and there a moment to follow me on this new adventure into possibly writing and my reflection on life and (of course) my occasional departure into the design world and dispatches from my garden I invite you to come along.

I cannot promise how entertaining it might be and I am fully aware that I run a huge risk of boring you all to the point of no return, but I would love to have you come along with me!

This summer we will be in South Carolina, we love the beach, the heat and Savannah, GA close by.

I will practice writing and hope to learn to be precise, to collect impressions and to tell you how I feel....

I hope you all enjoy these coming months, I am wishing you a wonderful new season, wherever you are!

XX

Victoria

Blog pause

William George Gillies

I have hit the pause button on the blog, too many things are happening at home, we are having visitors and my attention cannot be divided enough, so I apologize I might not make it back before the summer break!

I miss it terribly, but in order to blog with something to say I need more time to concentrate.
Right now this it is simply not possible.
I am reading your posts, get a chance to comment once in a while, so please come and check in with me, it's a temporary interruption of service.....
  

Artist unknown to me....

I hope you are all off to a good start of the summer season, I wish you all the best and hopefully I will be back soon!


Take good care,  I miss you already!


XX
Victoria

With my niece yesterday on Times Square, NYC! The only shot together, unfortunately a little wobbly...

All images via V.Zlotkowski, art work  as indicated and second source unknown.

Storm front

The tree in spring

After the latest string of hot days last night's rainstorm was overdue, but again it took the perhaps most severe toll on our garden. The last of the old maple trees which stood there already for 50 years when we moved here about 10 years ago will have to come down today! We had it cabled a few years back, but a large crack did never heal and a few strong winds yesterday was all it took to break it apart!
Coincidentally it was also the birthday of two of our sons, boys 10 years apart, one 21, the other 11! ( : )) )

Roses from the garden and a giant 'burger' cake for the birthday boys!

The youngest son's impromptu garden party came to an abrupt  halt after we heard the cracking of the tree after the first strong winds. 
A frantic call to our tree guy confirmed the diagnosis and now the man are up there, removing branch by branch. How easy it is to reduce a tall tree to shredded wood after 60 + years of growth....
I can hear the shredder now as I write.

We will leave the last remaining large piece, unable to part with it completely, but it might buy us only a year or two more. It's sentimental, but the character of the garden and the house will be so changed, we can't bear it yet!
You must think by now that this is not a design blog at all, I am talking too much of gardens and trees. But as I understand it, it is all part of the larger picture, the frame to our lives and lifestyle.
Garden design has become of more and more interest and I feel my attention shifting, especially in the summer month!
Still the lasting impressions of our visit last week to one of Europe's most amazing gardens at Sanssouci left me again with the urge to plant and to leave a mark for future generations, more then I can perhaps leave with my interiors. 

250 year old copper beech tree at Sanssouci

A fruit tree, spreading across the ground.

Trees last so much longer!
The small land we have will hold more memories one day for our kids. At least that's what I hope for. And if it should get sold eventually, others may enjoy some large trees one day, then planted long ago, spending much needed shade in future summers.
Often I have thought about the people who build the home we live in, when our neighborhood was developed, right in the years after the Second World War.
They planted azaleas and rhododendrons, which are so large now and gorgeous, Japanese maples and magnolias, and perhaps the old trees which have shaded our house until recently where left from the natural environments, grown wild before the land was sold! 
I thanked them silently many times!
There were forests here and a small pickle farm, where our elementary school now stands since the 50's only a few hundred yards from our house.
We have changed the front face of the house and walk way, planted already a few young trees there, but now with the fall of the last giants we will have to rethink the garden plans again!

 
I know, perhaps some will say just roll with the punches, you will get used to it, but for us living with our garden is as essential as for others the kitchen renovation....

It's a summer of changes and although I mourn the loss of this big part of the last old tree I am hopeful that new plantings will be done by us with enough foresight to bring joy to us and many more in future years. And perhaps this last one standing will survive a few more withering storms!


I have been writing other posts from my "tree - house", one you might enjoy you can find here!
I guess I am a tree woman and I don't mind that image a bit!




xx
Victoria



All pictures by V.Zlotkowski