Kayla I. Shown-Dean's Blog, page 67

Moss Mountain Farm–Giveaway!

 

**Today, reading my post comes with an added benefit. I would really like all 700+ of my followers to get involved for a chance to win prizes!**

Recently, I had the pleasure of visiting the home of P. Allen Smith, known as the male Martha Stewart, at Moss Mountain Farm. While I was originally there for an AR529 focus group (which I will tell you all about in a future post), I also spent quite a bit of time wandering the farm and capturing some gorgeous shots, mainly outside, but also inside the homestead. Upon arriving, I believe, nearly all of us were immediately spell-bound by this majestic oak located in front of the home.

While there are six oaks on the property, this one is over 300 years old and is simply captivating. Here is another shot of here with the fall decor.

Now, I realize that most are more interested in P. Allen Smith’s decorating abilities than in the fall foliage, so let’s venture into the house for a bit, okay? The 1904 colonial revival home sits atop a hill overlooking the Arkansas River. I thought it was particularly beautiful, especially with the “pumpkin house” resting near it.

Inside, however, the home does not lose any of its beauty.

I thought his style was very simple, yet elegant. He seemed to be able to find inspiration in nearly everything, even apples. I remember, when I saw this table in the foyer, “Who would have thought to decorate with apples?” However, it’s simply beautiful.

The presentation in the kitchen was just as stylish and incorporated some apples as well.

However, I think my family’s favorite would have been the attic which he had converted into a play room for his nieces and nephews.

And from that height, the views are amazing!

If any of you find yourselves interested in this style, or like me, maybe you find yourself a little jealous of it: don’t worry. You can always visit P. Allen Smith’s gift shop and purchase some of his charming decor for yourselves…OR by clicking this link, you will be entered into a drawing to receive one of TEN $50 gift cards. Also, just for clicking the link you will receive a coupon code worth 25% off of ANY purchase. Thank you for being such supportive followers. Happy Thanksgiving and…Happy shopping!

 

Arkansas Women Bloggers at Moss Mountain Farm

(To see more pictures from Moss Mountain Farm, check out my Facebook page.)

 

 

Adventures in Kerrville

My husband had a job interview in Kerrville, Texas two weeks ago, and while I hesitantly left for the trip, I thoroughly enjoyed myself in this little Texan gem. Kerrville is a town of about 23,000 people. It’s mainly known as a retirement community as many of its citizens earned their money in another location and moved there to retire. I absolutely loved how the town (and surrounding towns) re-purposed many of its old buildings. It has left the area rich in history and culture, much of which, surprisingly, is Germanic.

On the way to Kerrville, we drove through Comfort, Texas and came upon  this little monument. The plaque set in concrete sidewalk  reads, “Treue Der Union” which is German for True to the Union. The monument was erected in remembrance of six Germans who refused to fight with the Confederates in the Civil War and were killed for their “disloyalty.” I, personally, thought that they could not have selected a more beautiful place to erect this monument.

                 “True to the Union”
taken in Comfort, Texas

This was my favorite photo taken at the “True to the Union” Monument. They have these majestic, twisted oaks everywhere in Texas hill country, and I find them absolutely inspiring.

Comfort, Texas

These trees are also covered with ball moss, little gum-ball-like balls of moss that cover the branches and leaves of the trees. I’d never seen this type of moss before, and while in small amounts it appears like a glowing halo around the tree, in large amounts it can give the oaks a haunted appearance.

With the twisted oaks and the ball moss, this part of Texas seems almost magical, and the overpopulation of deer in the area also adds to the area’s beauty. These deer are literally everywhere. It was nothing to be driving through a highly populated area or a wealthy suburb and find six or seven deer in only ONE yard. As a result, many of the residences did not have green lawns. Many had rock or gravel in their front yards, and if they did have any vegetation, it was kept behind a fence or tightly enclosed by chicken wire to keep it safe from the deer. In the series of photos below, you only see a fraction of the deer that we saw on our two-day trip. The first photo was taken of a buck chasing a doe through the campus at Schreiner College in Kerrville. The others were taken in the back yard of the people with whom we stayed and in our drive through Kerrville’s several residential areas.

While all of the homes in Kerrville had a beautiful view, like I said we were in Texas hill country with lots of majestic oak, the wealthiest citizens seemed to live in The Summit, a neighborhood on top of the highest hill in Kerrville which overlooks the entire town. I must say, I’ve never seen a deeper blue.

The Overlook at The Summit, an upscale housing area

While Kerrville has a lot of countryside, it’s downtown area isn’t in decline; on the contrary, it’s thriving. Like many of the residential areas, it is filled with older buildings that have been re-purposed. The downtown building below was once a hospital and is now Peterson Plaza. I also really liked how many of the restaurants in Kerrville, especially in the downtown area, had outside dining. It was simply beautiful.

The Clock Tower and an outdoor restaurant in Kerrville

Since it was so windy, however, we were not able to eat in one of the outdoor restaurants. We did enjoy a local Italian place called Bella Vita. I really enjoyed their decor, especially the stringed lights along the darkened ceiling, which did give the place an outdoor (at night) feel. Plus, the pasta was amazing!

Bella Vita, Kerrville, Texas

While it was windy, apparently that doesn’t stop Texans from being outdoors, even swimming. It was in the high 70s the day that we left Kerrville, and one of our last stops was at the Krocs Community Center. I was absolutely floored to see someone swimming there. I’ve been used to temperatures in the 50s in Arkansas, and in Texas, they are still swimming in November.

Other than the pool, the community center had a lot to offer including many arts and crafts classes, Zumba, Yoga, and other physical fitness classes, a complete fitness center and a basketball court and much, much more.

In addition to all the wondrous sight and activities, we also met some wonderful people when we were in Kerrville. While we still haven’t heard about the job, we still enjoyed our time there and plan to return one day for another visit.

In the Clearing

My First Flight

Last week as I fearfully typed my post about my grandmother’s death clock, I thought about my upcoming flight. I had never been on a plane before and my grandmother’s clock is never wrong: it’s chiming always signals the death of a family member, so to say I was nervous would be an understatement.

Not only was this my first time aboard a plane with the death clock’s prophecy hanging over me, but I was also scheduled to board four planes in only two days. Still, I swallowed my fear and boarded my first flight: Little Rock, Arkansas to Dallas, Texas.

Leaving for Dallas

Once we found our gate in the terminal, I began to feel pretty excited. I told my husband, “this reminds me of Home Alone with all the people rushing around.” He just laughed and said, “It’s really nothing like the movies.” He was right; my excitement faded–no, actually it turned tail and ran once I got on the plane. It was hot; it was crowded, and there were no exits. I always take notice of the exits when I go someplace, and I did notice the emergency exits, but there was no way I could go running to those. I began to feel claustrophobic and panicky.  So, to combat those feelings, I turned my vent up as high as it would go, and I closed my eyes and told myself I was riding a bus down 167 South for the entire 1 hour flight, well, until the woman next to me tossed her cookies in a plastic bag. Ironically, her sickness kind of lightened the mood. I told my husband that I honestly thought it’d be me.

This first flight had me anxiously waiting for the next three; I was even more terrified than before. However at our layover in Dallas, I found some Dramamine which helped me get through my other flights. The second flight I slept through, which was probably caused by a combination of the Dramamine and being exhausted from getting up a 4:30 a.m. to make our first flight. By the third and fourth flights I felt like an old pro. I was used to the crowds and the stuffiness, and I had chewing gum to help with my ears popping, and of course, I had my Dramamine. However, by this time I was confident enough to use the non-drowsy kind. I even had the chance to snap a few pictures with my husband.

I also discovered one of the pros to sitting in the middle seat–the air conditioning. No matter how those on the isle and window seating position their vents, the middle-seat passenger can always feel three times the cool air. Since I often sleep with a fan, this has a calming affect on me.

So armed with my tricks, I was able to survive all four flights and gain some new experience in the process. While the first two flights were kind of tough, the second two were easy-peasy.

Of course, it also helped when my mom called me to tell me that the possessed clock had stopped its chiming. My cat died. Apparently, after losing 6 of her lives and getting run over by a car twice, her time was up.

My cat, Poop

Like I said, the clock has never been wrong, and now it’s four-for-four. While I was sad to hear about my cat, it was something that we all expected; she was a twenty-three-year-old cat after all. Still, knowing that the death clock had ceased its tolling probably had a lot to do with my increase in confidence on the flights home.

 

Well-worn Path

Spring

Sweet baby boy–you

Have me on a string.

I float at ease upon

The scented winds of Spring.

When my balloon is popped

By Summer’s scorching heat,

Adapt, I must. Oh, I

Will be a kite for my sweet.

But when change blows in

And the leaves begin to fall,

I’m tossed upon the currents

By one, once so small.

And now in bitter cold,

This wind whips me ’round.

Until, my love, by this rope,

Flings me to the ground.

But now is not the time

To think of such things.

For now, sweet boy, I will

Enjoy cuddles, kisses, and Spring.

Death Clock

My grandmother was a God-fearing woman. As far as I know she didn’t believe in ghosts, vampires, goblins, etc., and if she did, it wasn’t beyond what The Good Book told her in black and white, which is what makes her dying gift so ironic.

When my grandmother died, she left a slew of belongings behind. In truth, I don’t think we ever realize how much stuff one truly collects until a passing. However, amid all the piles of books, magazines, knick-knacks and collectibles, after my grandmother died my mother focused in on only a few select items that she wanted to take with her as mementos of her mother. Among the few items my mother selected was a clock.

It wasn’t really a special clock. It’s just one of those bird clocks, similar to the ones that were sold nearly every night on some TV shopping network after midnight. Somewhat like the one in this photo.

taken from http://www.target.com

Every hour on the hour the different birds sing; this brought such delight to my grandmother.

However, since her death in 2007, the clock has stopped working. It has never made a sound except on three separate occasions: when my Uncle Jesse died, when my Uncle Buck died and when my grandfather died.

These three deaths occurred months apart from one another; however, for each death the clock started up once again, at least three days prior to the death, and it continued for a few days after each death.

At first, it was it seemed like coincidence. My mother thought it was odd that the clock would just start working all of a sudden, but she didn’t pay much attention to it. When it started chirping again, right before the second death, my mother even made the joke, “Oh Grandma’s just checking in on us again.” The third time the birds began their song, my mother became afraid as she wondered who would be the next to die. When she got the news of my grandfather’s death, she thought my grandmother’s work, through the clock, might be finished. “Perhaps, she just came back for her husband,” she said. But, when the clock began to chirp and caw once again this last week, the fear returned; this time, in all of us.

I was driving to work when I received the call: “You be extra careful this week,” my mother fretted over the sound of the twittering birds.

So far we’ve received no news of anyone’s passing, and the clock has been working for over a week. Perhaps the individual has yet to die, or maybe the clock is only to serve as a reminder that time is ever-fleeting and death may potentially be only seconds away. Either way, as long as that clock is cheeping, I’ll tread lightly.

Cotton Candy Sky

Box o’ notes

Box o’ notes

Lines and Angles