The Buhlawg (I'm Nothing if not Southern...)

Hey, Sherry! - I'm ready for a long winter's nap.

Sherry, this post is especially for you. ;-) More boudoir photos by Raymond.

Nedsel has discovered the joy of crawling under a blanket. Here he is ready for a nap. Unlike Princess Stinky he prefers the foot of the bed as his point of entry.






Princess Stinky has to be at the head of the bed with me. Wasn't it nice of Raymond to take this lovely photograph?







In case you missed my big greasy nose in that photo, he also took a closeup.








Chatty is a daddy's boy. Here he is on Raymond's telephone "chair". I use that term loosely. It's actually a captain's chair from a Chrysler Town and Country van that he propped up on blocks in the kitchen. I hate it. Raymond loves it because it reclines, has adjustable arms, and I feel certain he secretly feels as though he's driving while seated in it. Car seats do not make an attractive kitchen accent. Especially when someone uses my cute little quilted throw I got for our tv room as a slipcover. Gaaa. At least Chatty looks good on it.








When I was a child, my dad built a Christmas village for us. You must keep in mind this was in the early to mid sixties long before all the Department 56 and Norman Rockwell stuff. Every Tuesday afternoon we would go by the neighborhood grocery store to pick up orange crates from behind the grocery store (they restocked fruits and veggies on Tuesdays). We would take them home (all the while the interior of the '56 Chevy Bel Aire would smell like canteloupe and bananas). There Daddy would take them down to the basement and disassemble the crates. He used the resulting slats to carve out these little houses. The houses were modeled after neighborhoods he saw when he was stationed in England during WWII. He painted them what he called "Disney" colors, however. He also did the two paintings behind the village here. The Santa was modeled after Haddon Sondblom's work he did for Coca Cola. He stays out all the time.







Here's another angle. I love the castle. I think it's my favorite of all the little houses. I painted the blue house with the green roof. Imagine that! Daddy let me paint one! With oil paint! And a big person's brush! You have to keep in mind I was probably 9 years old at the time. That was exciting stuff.







Over the years we've collected a mishmash of little figures, trees and other accessories to include in the village setup. They are certainly not consistent in scale, but oh, do they hold memories. And symbolism. I'm going to be setting the village up at my mom's house tomorrow. It's always fun, but at the same time difficult as it always makes her wax melancholic about Daddy being gone and she sails into the litany of her life with Daddy. Don't get me wrong. I miss him horribly also. I'm more of a "suffer in silence" kind of gal, however. Mattie has to hold you hostage. ;-)





I am indeed very blessed to have been raised in my slightly nutty family. Dagwood, especially, was special folk.

Cool village, eh?

What do these items have to do with each other - the boudoir and a Christmas village? Well, having been raised in that sort of household, I've been conditioned to have little Christmas projects going on. I'll never create anything as lovely as the village, but I still feel the need to create. And share. And my favorite place to do a lot of my handiwork is - you guessed it - on my bed. As witnessed here:





As you can see, I have lots of little helpers, too. ;-)