I love winter --

-- but not the dismal slushy mess we've had most of the last week.  Why not have some lovely snow instead?  I really like that it's been colder today.  Send more of this, posthaste.

I was photographing a few vases in the Little House (which is not heated; it was lovely and frigid in a way that I perversely enjoy), and I needed some flowers to demonstrate scale and use.  These pathetic posies were the best thing my frozen garden could produce:

Blackened sticks, almost.  Reviled vinca, which I tried in vain to eradicate in the fall, looks better than anything else that I was willing to cut (the rhododendrons & mountain laurel look lovely, of course, and the rhododendrons are even starting to bud).  I really haven't yet reached the level of sophistication as a gardener where I can pontificate on how lovely my grounds are even when everything is dead or in dormancy, waxing poetic on husks and dessicated stems, Piet Oudolf style (which I love from afar).

I miss growing, thriving things with leaves and berries.  I don't miss flowers all that much, though I am looking forward to the fruit trees this year, which should give us a pretty good show for the first time this spring.

Still, I'll must admit that I lust for something more like these memories of Lake Como in late summer; taken at Villa Melzi and Villa Carlotta.  I love a good old fashioned specimen garden:

Did that silly Italian peasant majolica vase put me in this frame of mind?  I'm sure it's a little dismal on the lakes as well, but I doubt there's slush falling from the sky. Shall we go for a few weeks?

Christmas at Pastiche

Things have gotten busy here at Nick Haus, leaving the blog to fend for itself; the holidays have made my day job and little store bustle as never before.  But I want to show you a fun recent project that I worked on with my neighbors, who happen to own a truly delicious bakery -- I helped Eileen & Brandt (the owners) to make Pastiche look like Christmas:

Several garlands, a dove milagro and a bushel of lacquered berries do the trick.  You can never have too much milk glass and sugared fruit:

But what they are truly known for is their astonishingly good desserts -- it's almost painful to watch:

If I don't send out another missive before, Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah!

All beautiful photos taken by Steven, who is not feeling very appreciated tonight, though I assure you this is not the case.

Death (with lace)

... from a mausoleum in Southern France: Happy Halloween!

Tweedy Weather

This weather makes me desire tweed above all else -- and my favorite tweed is Donegal, from northwestern Ireland.  Like most things I love, the most dedicated consumers of Donegal tweeds are in Japan -- thus this extremely well done video by Beams of Tokyo on a particular, very small family of weavers; I highly recommend watching it.

MOLLOY & SONS from BEAMSBROADCAST on Vimeo.

The Two Guys in My Life

... caught in a rare moment of rest. They look a little shell shocked:

Steven and Aesop.

Why Don't You ...

... plant a tree smack dab in front of your door.  I can't tell you why I love this so much, but I do:

I can half tell you why I'm into this -- mainly that it's symmetrical, and thus balanced, but also profoundly weird.

The first image is the Villa Melzi on Lake Como, the second is of a lovely Russell Warren designed house a few blocks from where I live.

And no, not a Diana Vreeland dictate, but I say go for it.

Springer Tortoiseshell (and Acceptable Poufs) at Wright

Ok, fine:  I admit it.  I do like Karl Springer, and luxe interiors of the 1960s -- blame it on my grandmother and all of her Dunbar furniture, silk velvet upholstery sectional sofas in fawn brown and silver bibelots scattered around.  In an abstract sense I understand good taste and know that I'm supposed to live austerely with a lot of Serge Mouille and Charlotte Perriand, but frankly I find all of this recherché 60s crap a lot more comfortable.  I would file Springer, Jansen and Mendoza in the pantheon of designers who favored luscious materials, good proportions and classical references over good taste or at least progressive design work, and I would rather have their works because they remind me of home, even if I would feign recommend their pieces for a client.

I mean, come on -- scoot over that pouf and get me a cocktail.  Time for a tete a tete:

Silk velvet walls?  Ribera St. Francis on the wall?  Onyx obelisks, aluminum trim and crown molding, baseboard and coffee table all in tortoiseshell?  Yes, please.  Throw in the signed 18th century fauteils.  It's all so terrible and expensive and perfect.

Well, lucky for me I could recreate this room, or at least poach some of its contents -- Wright is putting several on the block October 18th.  Though not in this image, these 7 foot obelisks were doubtless somewhere in the same room:

And I HATE most poufs -- but these, in a moss suede, oval in form and contained in a slimming aluminum band are exactly what I'd like in my own living room, used in exactly the same way:

But really the best thing would be the tortoiseshell coffee table.  Thankfully there are very, very few of these floating around -- Wright says "very rare" and honestly, I wonder if there are any others.  The entire thing has a veneer in true tortoiseshell -- almost certainly the baseboard and crown molding are faux.  God knows how many centuries-old tortoises bit the dust to cover this silly table, but isn't it gorgeous?

Feel free to bid on my behalf -- I'll forward my address to any interested parties.

UPDATE:  Obelisks sold at the low end of their estimate at 5,000, the poufs sold for about 7 times the high estimate and achieved 20,000, while the coffee table went for a respectable 27,500.   Sigh.