Two moss-covered English iron greyhounds guard the front entrance of the home known as Catalpa, in St. Francisville, Louisiana: The original house survived the Civil War only to be destroyed by fire forty years later. The rebuilt Catalpa continues to be owned by direct decedents of the original builder; heirloom articles and artifacts survived both the fire and their submergence in Catalpa's pond during the approach of the requisitioning Union Army during the Civil War. One of the greyhounds sustained a bullet hole to the back, the parting gesture of a Union solider.
I cannot get enough of the new bespoke slipper creator at Stubbs & Wooten. I made these fabulous slippers you now gaze upon. Yes, bespoke. Yes, I am available for consultation.
I believe in the things these two fine people taught me. My Mom made etiquette and manners fun, as she does everything. My Dad felt manners were something you had to have and did not give a lot of thought to them. My Grandmother though, she was a take-no-prisoners manners girl, she would just roll right over you with instructions. I liked that about her. I miss her, you know. Training children to be polite and decent was her calling.
We can do this you and I. I will always be here to help you. But I want you to get it right and I do not want you to give up. I realize I have not let you off the hook or eased the entertaining burden for you. I am hoping my work here generates more than mediocrity, better than fine. We are all gathered here because we are champions of a sort and we mean to reach a pinnacle, as all humanity should in every endeavor; even, if you are inviting someone to eat a sandwich with you on the park bench under which you live, I implore you to do the very best you can.
Sunday supper at my parents home, 1991 or so. It was summer, fairly casual, still the table is set with Medici (now a pattern called Westchester), Grand Baroque, and Colleen. My Brother was a notorious diet soda drinker, and less of a manners nudge than I though I must say he has lovely manners himself (that is Chris on the right). Many times, dinner was served from the buffet behind my Mother at center, but more often, it was family style. Note the swinging door over my right shoulder, it was a true kitchen door: it swung two ways because you know what I always say, what happens in the kitchen stays in the kitchen. When it was just family, the door was propped open, when there were dinner guests, it was closed and swinging.
"Refined," a letter from Nevada called it. Refining, is more like it: Refining one's entertaining skills within the established boundaries, perhaps. Amy Vanderbilt meant to make it easier for you, not harder. She wrote these books full of minute details in order that you would never be alone on the great host slope before a dining room of one hundred twenty or a card table of four. Moreover, once you and the guests know the steps of the dance, you will stop worrying about whether you are doing it right as a guest or a host, and start wondering whether you had the chance to speak with everyone at the party.
All of these things etiquette people tell you serve two purposes: First, to allow you comfort in knowing you have handled a situation well. Secondly, to make you look good. Now tell me: What could be wrong with this discipline?
The fact that it occasionally intimidates (as it does all at one time or another) originates in the self-consciousness that one does not already know the method of handling the situation at hand. But the how-to's are not formed at the in utero banquet table. They are skills, and like any other skill, all they require is being informed and practice. It is still curious to me that manners, conceptually, stumps and insults some. Surely this is caused by it being a defining characteristic of the perception of whether one is a lady or gentleman. And the prospect of failure is untenable to many: Indeed you are better than a single slip. I agree. Manners are a sum total, not a singular defining moment. However, you still never do get a second chance for a first impression, so practice is critical.
My parents table set for a light meal and coffee during the holiday season. It is the only time I can remember this service being used for anything which makes me suspect one of the attendees may have gifted it to my parents. Normally, we used my maternal Grandmother's service in the holiday season as it was vaguely reminiscent of the greens and reds of the season. That house was wonderful, all of those white cabinets under the window seats were extensive china storage.
Let me reassure you. You are lovely already, all you need is to deal with yourself the way you do the silver: Polishing. Ever polishing. I will do the same, right here before you, much as that intimidates me.
It is not with mixed feelings that I note the sometimes exhausted or intimidated tones the Blushing letters take. But it does not cause me to second guess myself in remaining within the prescribed guidelines in which I was trained, or decide I will not tuck the seating chart into my dress. Never.
My Godmother, Margaret's beautiful Easter brunch table. Absolutely everything was perfect. While she may claim to always be very casual, you might guess these favorite of all the family meals for me contributed heavily to my sureness that we should deliver to the best of our ability. Look at the care lavished on these linens and place settings, were there not beautiful items on the table, the lushness of the respect for the holiday, family, and the meal is enough to mark one's soul.
Margaret in the living room at my parents home one Christmas Eve, as you can see, she has a light-hearted side as well and we practice the Christmas cracker tradition.
While it does not cause me to question the lessons I learned with my people in these, among many, rooms, and their usefulness in this modern age, when I read your letters, it does make me wish I had a magic carpet and I could be over in a flash. In the meantime, always in spirit.
(Housekeeping items: Remember to follow Blushing's Twitter feed here. And there are two fabulous giveaways going on right now, see the Reader Giveaway's Links at the top left of the page.)
Dessert plate, Audubon.
Flatware, Audubon.
Both patterns were created by Tiffany in 1871 to commemorate Commodore Matthew Perry's arrival in "The Land of the Rising Sun" and subsequent trade treaty with Japan. Audubon remains the best selling of Tiffany's flatware patterns.
They were not the greatest of friends, the people who hosted our family in these rooms the first time when I was very young. In fact, they turned out to be puppy-torturing, commercial-zoning nightmares who sold the house below my parents on the hill to a business that drove the neighborhood out. But that family made one important invite which brought our family many happy memories. We would have had them anyway, anywhere, but certainly a new, majestic castle was both impossible to refuse and singularly remarkable to myself and my Brother who would then have boundless new adventures in our own Hudson Hogwarts.
I thought back on that gesture today and said to myself, my Mother-in-Law would love it there, when she gets back to New York, we should take her. And could be you will head there too. In this way, the Costa's gesture continues on.
What good-memory spots are you passing on to others?
Q: How long can one expect a peony to last?
A: Peony plants can last 100 years. The ones we started out with were about 25 years old. They truly are our grandmother's plants.
Q: When is the best time to order and plant peonies? How long will it take
for blooms?
A: We sell potted peonies in the spring; however, the best time to plant is in the fall. At that time, we sell bare root peonies. We pride ourselves in the fact that our roots are very large; large enough to be planted in 2-gallon pot. The roots are sold as 3-5 eye , but usually are much larger than that. We have repeat customers in the city and all over the country who marvel at the size of the roots. Therefore, our peonies can bloom the first year. We have about an 80% rate of first year blooming cycles. If not, then they definitely will bloom the second year
Q: Do you have a couple of quick tips which are must-do's for caring for peonies
and ensuring blooms?
A: Peonies need full sun, at least half the day. They do not like to planted too deep; we suggest 1-2 inches of soil over the top of the root. You would be surprised how many people plant them upside down; therefore, when we ship, we send a planting guide with a picture. Peonies need well-drained soil. We suggest fertilizing with a high nitrogen fertilizer after they are done blooming and an alfalfa based fertilizer or time release fertilizer in the fall after the foliage has been cut down. Never use the foliage in compost as it may carry fungus. Peonies do not like wet feet, so it is not necessary to constantly water. We suggest watering only in times of no rain in July and August. You can see how simple peonies are to take care of, and how , even though they bloom once in the spring, they are a great addition to the garden. Gardeners can, after the first or second year, cut blooms for vases. To have peonies later, cut blooms at the opening bud stage and put in the refrigerator. When you want more peonies, take them out, make a new cut, and you will have peonies even into June.
Q: What is the most unusual order/ request made of your business?
A: The most unusual order for peonies is for the Fernleaf Double.
Q: Can you recommend the best book on the subject of peonies?
A:Tony likes to recommend the book "Peonies" by Alan Rogers
Q: Any interesting anecdotes, historically relevant facts, or tidbits of peony
trivia you would like to share with my readers?
A: Peonies have been in ornamental horticulture for several thousand years in China. They were introduced to Europe and the Americas where they were then intensely hybridized.
We love peonies, and have 65 in our own landscaping at our home. Even though we see the varieties every year, and add some new ones, we never tire of their beauty. At our garden center, we have a yearly Peony Festival where we display cut flowers in vases for our customers to see. It is quite the event. We grow our peonies on our farm, 1/4 mile from our garden center and allow folks to tour the fields. NO PICKING! Families take pictures from year to year, and can visit daily if they like to see the new varieties opening. We have residential and commercial customers as well.
The Camellia - just my style: Sleek, with fine, fast lines and a clean floral.
The Magnolia is beautiful but the unfortunate choice of adding leaves to the middle layer really did it no favors: More flowers, fewer leaves. The rusty factor of the real late-on magnolia could have been addressed in the sugar work as well and kept the cake neat and clean.
Prices, locally: Jasmine, $450. Camellia, $750. Magnolia, $1750.
Charleston Weddings, is a big, glorious mag worth a subscription for anyone planning events, anywhere.
A photo I took today of my Daughter (newly broken leg not apparent) waiting for her Dad to bring the car to the door.
Return to Sullivan's Island (excerpt here), by Dorothea Benton Frank, author of Sullivan's Island and Isle of Palms.
And for those wishing for something non-fiction, this is one of my favorite books on Charleston and the definitive, truthful, work on chasing a low country family history to the land grant period: Slaves in the Family, by Edward Ball. Buy it and find brief reviews here, see the house where the Ball's live when you get there, and be privy to the family recipes in Charleston Receipts - yes, that Ball family.
Beach reading for those of you kicking back at IOP this summer.
Here are your boiled peanuts. They should be big, fat peanuts not those emaciated sickly things they serve at Hyman's Seafood. Put them on the dash and the paper bag on the floor by your feet for your shells. Be careful not to get the boiling water on your patch mad sundress when you bite into them. They are salty, have some tea. In some parts here, asking for water is still something of a sacrilege or a red flag.
Head out of town. I will take the old road, Highway 17, the Savannah Highway, because the old towns are out that way: Walterboro, Jacksonboro, Ravenel. But also more popular places like the sea islands: Edisto and Kiawah. If you follow 64, you will see signs like this one, at a corner of live oaks, covered in eerie cob webs, giving directions to hallowed grounds of farms, slavery, wars, economic rises and collapses, and once-great Southern towns no one wants to go to anymore.
I can give you the inventory of the settlement. I imagine it has not changed very much in two hundred years: Twelve homes, four churches, countless live oaks. And the water around. No stores. One paved road, the rest dirt and shell.
If you come back to Grace Chapel, I expect you will be respectful. It is silence which defines this tip of the island. And grace. It was accurately named in 1840. They will not have city ugliness here; if that is brought upon them, they will remind you where the paved road lies and that it will return you to the highway; go on and use it.
This is Grace Chapel. She is antebellum of 1840. Spared of the seiges and fires that fell her sisters on John's Island. If you think this looks like a fine place for a wedding, be cautioned that this chapel is precious and serves the families of the parish only. No destination weddings here.
These old live oaks share their piece of paradise with some cars for Sunday service but mostly people walk from the few homes out there.
The settlement ground is sandy, shells are as abundant on the road and in driveways as on the beach.
Let's head back to town. I want to show you the Charleston which will always make my heart warm from local eccentricities and dichotomies.
This is an old family home in the Battery. Note the laundry hanging on the top balcony. They did that long before it was environmentally sensitive and even when society dictated indicated one should get a dryer.
Charleston welcomes libertarians, individualists, and odd balls. They know all about these types. But they do not care for invaders or thieves. It would not be at all unexpected to see a pineapple welcome sign above the door bell even though you have just passed through this wrought iron defense on your way to a dinner party at this residence.
One of the things that happens in places where heritage is everything is that it sometimes takes a long time to let go of the family places. I cannot blame anyone. But sometimes, the inhabitants survive a lot longer than the inclination to preserve or the money. That is when some sad and dangerous things happen. Often now, the historic folks or the College steps in, and that is for the best.
The beach is just beyond the post and rail fence. This location is lovely, I would send anyone there.
Have I introduced you to Josh before? He was thrilled to be in choker whites in 100 degree heat and 90 percent humidity. I wore a Trina Turk beach cover-up which looks for all the world like a dress when worn with Stuart Weitzman's. Go figure. My Trina Turk dress saved my life (I always knew I would say that), it was hotter than Hattie's. And that was before the biting pestilence arrived.
Biting ants began to eat my feet and black clouds moved overhead in the flash of an eye just as I took this picture. The wedding party hiked on to the beach after the ceremony, it was then that the sky opened up. Unfortunately, it was a long walk (gown-dragging sprint) back.
Here's Josh again. The gentleman next to him greeted him that day by shaking his hand and smilingly asking, "You don't have an extra sword in the car, do you?"
This is the military, and that extra stripe on his shoulder means my Husband answered with perfect seriousness, "I don't believe so, Sir, no." Where the Hostess might have said something like, "Let me go rustle around in my sabers and check..."
They handed out these pretty fans. Did I mention it was 100 degrees and the ceremony started nearly one hour late?
I kid you not, these bridesmaids, dressed in dark dutchesse satin in Florida, in summer, in blazing heat had those brilliant smiles on their faces from start to finish. My heart broke for them as they shone, and then began to sweat bullets, but the smiles never faded. Hats off to them. 
Navy arch of swords, have toy seen one before? I had not, my Husband (see above) and all the other Navy grooms whose weddings I have attended did not have them. The ceremonial swords (often handed-down United States Naval Academy sabers) are crossed to prevent the couple from passing until they kiss. The swords are then lifted and they are permitted to pass. At the last arch, the bride is wrapped behind with the last sword and greeted with, "Welcome to the Navy!" I had the distinct feeling the Operations Officer who completed this task on behalf of the Navy that day had done this before (been the first to welcome many brides, that is).
The grooms cake was a cover (hat) which would be white on top in reality. Nicely done.
Gorgeous cake: Orchids, shells, and navy fondant a different flavor and filling on each level.
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