All week I have been crawling around in the basement of my store.  Thank God it is blissfully cool down there…getting a photo for this blog of the array of goodies is mighty difficult.  I remember once standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon…this was years ago when a friend and I did a Thelma and Louise-type road trip…left the kids at home with our husbands and off we went in her white Peugot station wagon.  Our husbands agreed to such nonsense…knowing if they didn’t, we would most likely go anyway.  Well, that is another story, but the point is this: I am trying to give you a sense of  the goodies in this basement!  And I am finding that it  is akin to that time I attempted a shot of the Grand Canyon with my Brownie Hawk Eye camera!  What I am shamelessly attempting to do here is urge you all to hop on a plane if you live far away or come on your bike if you live close and partake of the wealth of my collecting!  This basement is full of unnecessary and irresistible objects (trust me, I know…I bought them all!) that will be curbside out front of the store on Friday July 30th for the summer sale.  Lots and lots of good stuff from the store shelves and a great sampling of the props from the basement.  I need a good purge before Fall rolls in!

Don’t forget…we will be closed for all of August.  I will be going on a few adventures in western New York State seeking more antiques for the store and will post from the road!  Happy late summer and don’t forget to wear your sunblock!

So here is what I think…not that you asked!  This has been one hot summer. Everything is wilted including yours truly.  My tomato plants are clinging to their stakes and producing nothing…my zucchini plants have given me blossoms, which I have happily stuffed with fresh ricotta and then happily stuffed into my mouth…but even they are giving up. So I say, invite someone over to dinner…sit under the twirling fan, eat well of what is fresh at the Farmers Market…maybe throw in a gin & tonic…now, tell me, is it possible to have a better evening?

One hot day in early July, I went off to my favorite neighborhood in all of Boston!  I get my hair cut at a barber shop in the North End (Johnnie & Geno on Hanover Street)…I then wander the neighborhood, freshly shorn, pick up my olive oil at the Salumeria Italiana, maybe a bit of that aforementioned pasta, and  lastly over to Volle Nolle for the best ever sandwiches and salty chocolate chip cookies in the whole of the city!  Who cares if it is ninety degrees in the shade!

Sunday mornings in the winter are never this good…sure, there is the NY Times and the big pot of coffee and maybe a little snow and maybe the heat would be cranked up and maybe the auto parked at the curb out front is covered in snow and the sidewalk is in need of attention and the stairs are iced over…there is no Rowley and no roaming around in an open field and no green flies and no portable potties!  I’ll take summer any day!

One reason I adore this place so much is for just this sort of thing…now, mind you, I didn’t buy bagfulls of the stuff for my own little store though it was tempting!  Just the fact that one can wander over to a table with such “good taste” items makes me smile!

I have been just plain lazy about this blog this summer.  Forgive me!  Don’t forget…the store will be closed all of August and one week into September (I know just what you’re thinking…is she entitled or what!). I will be off on a road trip antiquing in upstate New York for a few days, then five days in New York City at the dreaded Javits Center for the Gift Show sussing out goods for you all to give others for the holidays, and then a little knee repair with a snip of some cranky knee part.  At this point, August will be nearly over, and I will wonder where it all went!  There will be books to read waiting for me next to the chaise lounge.  A couple pugs to snuggle with and BINGO…there goes time off!  One thing I did want to leave you with is something a client said yesterday…she is a poet and an artist…she said she believes we are all made up of water, sunlight and dreams.  I agree!

These early Sunday morning departures are what summer is all about!  I load up the granny cart in the way-back of Big Jane and drive over to get the “boys” (Don and John) and we are off…it is barely 7 am, the three of us are blurry from too much Saturday night and in my case..not enough Saturday night!  We make a hasty stop at the Dunkin Donuts on Fresh Pond where they always get our drive-through order  incorrect, which is okay, it is coffee.  In today’s case it was iced!  We hit 93 North, each thinking of the “treasures” we are about to find sixty miles up the road!  We talk of fashion and how the two of them will change my image…given half a chance and a large bundle of money I could be quite current (or so they say).  Sometimes we talk about the perfect meal or the perfect shop. We talk about our parents (lovingly, of course).  Sometimes I talk about assorted marriages (mine and others!), and before you know it, we are pulling Big Jane into a dusty field.  It is then that we see amazing things leaving in the arms of earlier risers than ourselves…we wonder if there is anything left!  Silly us!  There is always plenty to lust after, to  barter for, to be inspired by.  I love June!  I love Rowley!  I love early morning adventures, and I love these two boys who, given half a chance, and a good plastic surgeon, could make me chic!

Given the state of an open field, the number of  ticks per square inch, the heat of the day…I have to give this brave, wonderful soul an award!  We talked…she with her painted toes and tattoos  and tall heels and me in the practical tennies…about “what was she thinking…???”  She was on her way to church (by way of Phoenix, Arizona) and didn’t even “think” about a flea market!  She did say her shoes were French Market, and she never leaves home without them.   I love people’s stories and I loved her spirit!

Well, I was down to one pug…that being Dino…when one day a couple weeks ago, he headed south to check on his real estate holdings.  Not certain if I ever told you this but Dino is some smooth character.  Not that you would want him at one of your finer dinner parties but the boy has made some unusual investments in the southern part of the country.  He is the sole proprietor of a chain of strip-malls, which houses Poodle Parlors and a series of Pole Dancing clubs for the after-hours set.  Now, he isn’t elegant in the same way other pugs are nor does Dino present well as Wally once did…but the boy can invest, I have to give him that! The story goes that on his last night in Beebe, Arkansas he stopped at a roadside dive for a Bud and something deep fried, and it was there that he spotted Miss Rita.  She had just done her last set, was saying good bye to the boys in the band and about to have a T-bone steak at the bar.  Poor Rita was, quite frankly, all used up…she had traveled the deep South for too many years.  Her heart was always with the blues, but she ended up singing the old Patsy Cline requests.  Just before she dipped into that medium-rare steak, Dino offered her a whole new world of adventure.  I know this all seemed pretty fast to me too…but pugs work a whole lot quicker than human types.  Damned if Rita didn’t take him up on the offer!  She headed back to Roslindale looking quite weary and in need of a bath, but even under all those miles of life, I could tell she had real promise.  I took the both of them in (what else could I do?).  I wondered what Wally and Lulu would have thought of this instant attraction, and then I remembered Wally met Lulu in Paris on one of his many business trips and except for the location (Paris versus Arkansas) that old Wally did much the same thing.  One day, when Rita is settled, she will make a visit to the store, and I’ll just bet you we might be able to get at least one Patsy Cline ballad out of her!

Sunday  is one of those days when I start, at around 3 pm, to think of dinner.  Woe is me if there is nothing in the house to eat!  Now, let me tell you, years ago my Zia made Chicken Cacciatora almost every Sunday.  The chicken was alive and well only hours before…pecking around the chicken pen for grain and small bugs only a chicken’s eye could see.  The hens that became dinner were plump and most definitely organic!  They were loved and cared for by Zia and even in their demise, they got tender (well, sort of tender!) handling.  Her Chicken Cacciatora was about as close to heaven as any human can imagine while holding a fork and a knife!  I remember once reading an essay by Alan Watts called “Murder In The Kitchen”…the thrust of his essay was thus…a chicken poorly prepared is a chicken that died in vain!  I couldn’t agree more!

So here I was a couple Sundays ago…sitting in the shop, end of day, thinking dinner and knowing there was not a chicken…organic or otherwise…in my larder at home.  I did what I tell all others to do while in my store: “Open up that cookbook and just feast your eyes on those recipes!”  My first choice was “Yummy Potatoes,” the first page I turned to became the fixings for dinner and let me tell you it was delicious!  The cookbook was written by Marlena Spieler with photographs by Sheri Giblin.  There is not a dud in the whole wonderful book, if you love potatoes (who doesn’t?), this is your kind of cookbook!

ALOO TAMATAR BHAJI  Gingered Tomato-Curry Potatoes

1 lb. small new potatoes

1 tsp tumeric and several large pinches of sea salt

6 Tbl. extra-virgin olive oil

1 1/2 Tbl chopped fresh ginger

6-8 garlic cloves, chopped

2 shallots, peeled and chopped

2 tsp. yellow or black mustard seeds

1/2 tsp. whole cumin seeds

large pinch of ground coriander

medium to large pinch red pepper flakes

4-6 large ripe tomatoes, grated over the large holes of a box grater…(Yes! it does work and is a genius way to prepare those tomatoes that look red and ripe but are a tad too early!)

pinch of ground cumin

3 Tbl. chopped cilantro

Boil the potatoes in their skins until just tender, drain and set aside.  When cool enough to handle, peel, then break the potatoes up coarsely with a fork…each potato into 3 or so pieces…toss the broken potatoes with the tumeric and season with the salt.

In a skillet, heat the olive oil add ginger, garlic, shallots, and the mustard seeds.  Cook until the mustard seeds start to pop a little, then sprinkle in the cumin seeds, coriander and red pepper flakes.

Add those magical tomatoes you have grated!   Cook over medium heat until it all makes a sauce (not very long), then gently add the potatoes and toss them in the tomato mixture until well combined.

Cook slightly longer…season with salt if needed and sprinkle with ground cumin.  Serve warm or at room temperature, sprinkled with the chopped cilantro.

Divine!…I added a dollop of thick yogurt to my full bowl!

OK so I might cheat just a little bit here…getting you hooked thinking there could be something sage that is about to be said about “dogs.”  I admit I cheat…it is pugs I want to talk about and those of you who own pugs know they are not mere dogs!  And the specific pug in question is that dear Lulu.  I owned her or rather she owned me for ten years.  Her fur was like a bunny rabbit, and when she was young, I thought she looked just like Bette Davis! She wore pearls and a leopard-print pillbox hat with a scarf  to match…for the holiday season from Thanksgiving on, we dropped the leopard in favor of Christmas red…hat and scarf, of course!  For all that Wally was a thug…Lulu was a lady.  It is easy to understand why they became so bonded to one another.  I like to believe Wally needed her for the table manners part, and she needed to realize, as only Wally knew, it was OK for a pug to jump the queue when waiting a cab  in Paris.  The two are off together again: she a healthy sighted pug with all her teeth and Wally has full use of all four legs and no grey muzzle.  I think they must be curled up in some heavenly doughnut bed or maybe they are running free with other pugs, tails out flat, as they chase one another and somewhere in all this are bowls of water and hidden dog treats and grass to lie in and trees to water.  And may it be so for all our dogs (pugs or otherwise) who have shed their lives here and are having the best ever romp in this delicious imagined world.

Was this ever a lucky break!  I have found the perfect shopkeeper.  When you’re in the neighborhood, you must pop in to meet her!  I nabbed her off an Air France flight to Paris! Lulu was longing for a silver platter of oysters on the half shell served, as only the French can do, on a delicate bed of shaved ice.  She was headed to Le Petit Zinc on Rue de Buci where once I asked a man to marry me…that was years ago and, for the record, he declined. (Which was a lucky break for both of us!)  But enough about me and more on Lulu.  As you know, Lulu was the constant companion of Wally, whose death last month has made this dear pug deeply sad.  Now, I haven’t a clue why the trip to Paris…she claims it was for the oysters and who am I to argue.  I would head there this minute for those very oysters and the light of the place, and I would wander down the side streets I so love.  Lulu and I are avoiding travel, just now, and continuing with the management of 6 Birch Street…a little oasis of its own…minus the oysters and the wonders of Paris!

Wally loved the garden!  The head stone was mined from the Cortez Mine in Northern Nevada…it is filled with glittery bits of crystal on its cut edge…a fine tribute to a dog who loved nothing more than a little flash for any occasion!

A couple weeks ago, Bae’s (my granddaughter) monkey came to the “House of Couture” for a little fitting of a dress suitable for a monkey and a matching one for Ms. Bae.  Monkey spent the night, and by the afternoon of the second day there was no pleasing her…I tried bananas, peanuts, to no avail….the wine was best suited for such an occasion…after all how often do I have a monkey house guest?

Come by and see the new/old footstools and chairs covered in vintage Kantha cloth!  I have been gathering stools and old chairs over the winter months…which have been given a whole new life!  We adore them!

 Nine years ago, when I thought about opening a store, I met my future and present landlords.  I met also the magic of men who love trains…these “boys” are dedicated, let me assure you of that!  They have the whole of the second floor of the building that houses 6 Birch…I understand it is some four thousand square feet up there (my store is a tiny little 450 sq. ft.).  Well, on that second floor are miles (or so it seems) of model train tracks…all constructed on waist-high tables.  You can stare into villages created with minature people and town squares and trees all hand-made by the train men.  There is a swimming scene with folks on teeny tiny beach chairs, and I believe a nude diver about to take a plunge off the tressel into the water below.  The cars in the town squares appear vintage and are no bigger than a man’s thumb!  There are hills and train smoke and sounds of the passing engines as they move through the mountain tunnels.  I can tell you it is pure fantasy….open to the public twice a year.  If you are in the neighborhood the first weekend in December or the first weekend in March, head on up the narrow wooden stairs for a delightful awe-inspiring adventure!

The early and mid-fifties of my own childhood was spent with weekend visits to my Zio (uncle) and Zia (aunt) who lived in the Southern Pacific Yard in Sparks, Nevada.  Zio was a Section Foreman for the SP, and he lived in a “grand” wooden house painted the color of an egg’s yoke, a bright hard-to-miss mustard yellow.  On Saturday, just after lunch, we would gather in the living room, all would be silent while opera was broadcast on the radio.  I remember it to be the Met Opera Series; my uncle would close his eyes and swoon while the sounds of Tosca filled the room.  My cousin and I would slip out into the garden and wander towards the Round House…a huge wooden structure built entirely of wood with a tin roof and completely round with two giant openings.  The wood was black with the soot of the engines that were turned around in this round house.  It felt adventurous to a couple of  kids wandering through an “off limits” area over train tracks, snooping around for the hobos who would jump onto the next slow moving train for another world far from our own.  Is it any wonder I love the train men who are my landlords and the world they inhabit!

One very wet weekend when the whole of New England felt as if it were heading out to sea, my friend John invited me, my daughter Maren, her husband Nathan, the two grandkids Bae and Reeve plus the collection of pugs (Dino, Lulu and Moss) to his amazing and wonderful house in Provincetown.  It was the day after Wally’s death…my choice was to sit and sob at home or to wander off to P.Town with this delicious cast of characters and be caught up in great food, wonderful friends, lovely ambiance…do I need to tell you what I chose!

The whole of John’s place is akin to a Cabinet of Curiosity. Around each corner is something that surprises or delights.  The bedrooms with their peeled wallpaper, exposed raw plaster and furnishings of antiques make you want to stay forever.  I had the front bedroom on the second floor and from my bed, if I leaned in just the perfect way over to the left, I could see the beach and watch the waves whip over the hull of several small boats moored out there off shore.  The storm raged for three days…water collected in puddles the size of wading pools down Commercial Street.  We ate fine meals, played a game or two and read books by candlelight.

Before the rain began in earnest, we went to the Beech Forest Trail which was a pure Mary Oliver experience.  Mary Oliver is  one of my all-time favorite poets; she lives in P.Town and has written of this trail and the surrounding dunes.  There were birds of all kinds in the bare trees, many of which swooped down and ate seeds from our open hands.  We saw a  small nuthatch, the plain titmouse and a number of chickadees with an occasional cardinal.  The sky was a threatening grey, the wind was just beginning to perk up but in our little corner of the path all was right with world.