Summer-Fresh Fish Shacks

Last year, on the Friday before Father's Day, I wrote this post about my husband's Father's Day tradition: he treats himself and his dad to a big ol' pile of the fresh New England seafoods they love—as good Massachusetts boys do—and miss so much now that they are both left coasters. This pic is from that post about a favorite comfort food:

[SWAN RIVER FISH MARKET, DENNISPORT, MA]

Because it's "clams on a plane" time again—they may well be flying over the middle of America right now actually—I thought I might write another post featuring the charming seafood shacks that dot the east coast. Luckily, someone else had the same idea way ahead of me. Only, instead of writing about such establishments on a little bitty blog that hardly anyone reads, smart seafood lover Elizabeth Bougerol went and published an entire book that everyone can read, keep on their bookshelves and carry along when they travel (that's what I plan to do anyway).

[CLICK THE PIC TO SEE MORE IMAGES FROM THE BOOK]

Now, I am not a fan of the clam or the lobster, but I do love a basket of fresh fish and chips. And, I swear, the best fish and chips I have ever eaten were at Moby Dick's.

[MOBY DICK'S, WELLFLEET, MA]

One day, I'll go back and prove to myself that I am correct about their crispy, battered fish being the very best ever and that I didn't just imagine it because we were having such a great time stuffing ourselves with all the seafood we could find on that particular trip. To be certain that I'm right, I think I should visit all of these other places in the book and sample their fish and chips too. In the name of scientific research, of course.

[LOBSTER POT, PROVINCETOWN, MA]

[WESTFAIR FISH & CHIPS, WESTPORT, CT]

[LENA'S SEAFOOD, SALISBURY, MA]

[CAP'T CASS ROCK HARBOR SEAFOOD, ORLEANS, MA]

[CINDY'S, FREEPORT, ME]

[CLAM CASTLE, MADISON, CT]

[THE PLACE, GUILFORD, CT]

[ROY MOORE LOBSTER, ROCKPORT, MA]

Summer is upon us. Time to get out for some fresh air and even fresher seafood. Have a lovely weekend and say Happy Father's Day to your dad for me! Mine was just here and is on his way back to New Mexico tonight. No fish shacks there, though I'm sure he wishes there were.

How the Navy Introduced Me to Designer Lee Ann Thornton

While researching my last post, looking for images of Navy chairs, I discovered this kitchen nook designed by Greenwich Connecticut-based designer Lee Ann Thornton.

I also discovered that I love her aesthetic and affinity for mixing patterns, textures and styles. Check out the disparate pairings in this small corner alone: distressed table surrounded by mid-century chairs and a vintage-inspired bench dressed with a tailored, contrast piping cushion topped by crisp pillows in contemporary patterns and colors. Add one gorgeous pendant light, a modern botanical and the warm textures of a woven blind and wood flooring and yes, please, I'll move in right now.


And—what luck!—look at the kitchen that comes with the nook. The perfect mix of vintage and contemporary (pressed ceiling + modern stools), cool and warm (fresh green walls + deep brown floors), clean lines and textural details (crisp white cabinets and expanses of marble + woven blinds and baskets). And is that a mud room I spy through the door? If there is also a walk-in pantry somewhere nearby (there has to be, right?), then this is most definitely my idea of kitchen heaven.

More of the same heavenly mix in this seating area. Can you find all of the elements I've already mentioned in this single shot? They're all there.

In fact, it seems that every one of Lee Ann Thornton's designs incorporates the same elements even when the look is decidedly different. Here, a living room in soft blues, neutrals and bits of the sea and chinoiserie.

Another living space in periwinkle and white with hits of chocolate, a tropical touch of seagrass and bamboo, and an unexpected zebra or three.

And here, the boldest, brightest pattern-mixing-est room of them all: a casual family space in summery, sea-worthy blues and whites.

To see a bit more (honestly, I've stolen—um, borrowed—more of her images than I probably should have), visit Thornton Designs here. There is also a lovely interview with the designer here. I am so impressed with and inspired by the designs of Lee Ann Thornton... and so happy that the Navy sent me her way.

The New Navy

In 1944, the Electric Machinery and Equipment Company (Emeco) and the Aluminum Company of America (Alcoa) collaborated with US Navy engineers to design a seaworthy chair for military use.

The resulting 1006 chair—pronounced "ten oh six"— became a staple on Navy destroyers and submarines. Its seamless construction of corrosion-resistant, lightweight aluminum made it uniquely durable, easily portable and virtually maintenance-free.

The originals were produced in Emeco’s Hanover, PA workshops and they are still made there today—offspring of the perfect marriage between American ingenuity and craftsmanship.

The sturdy little chairs soon found themselves on land as well as at sea. First, they moved onto military bases and then into civilian offices.Over the years, as Navy chairs were retired from military use, they began to appear in surplus and resale stores and flea markets across the country.
Perhaps they were, at first, an inexpensive alternative to chairs found in traditional furniture stores, or a way to get a deliberately funky look, but their timeless charm won out. 1006 and similar Navy-inspired chairs can now be seen in even the most stylish, upscale homes.

Their clean lines and casual style allow them to fit into country, modern, eclectic and contemporary spaces. They are most often seen in kitchens and dining areas where their durability and ease of maintenance make them an excellent choice for busy families.

Occasionally, you will spot a 1006—or a few dozen—out in public. The chairs above were photographed in Louisville, KY at a fancy flagship KFC. Below, you see a testament to their ability to span styles and cultures: American-designed and manufactured Navy chairs in a Vietnamese restaurant in London.

If you can't find the real thing, like this vintage 1006 I found on The City Sage blog,

affordable alternatives are out there. Target sells their Cafe Aluminum Side Chairs in pairs for $246.99.

At Stack Chair Depot, the Oceanic Side Chair is only $95.00. Counter- and bar-height stools are also available at $115 and $125 respectively. While the styling of these two versions are similar to the original, I wouldn't expect their construction to be of the same quality. Proceed with "buyer beware" caution.

A faithful reproduction of the original, the Emeco Navy Chair with wood seats in two finishes can be found at allmodern.com.

For hard-core design aficionados who want only the best and most authentic, Design Within Reach offers the Emeco Classic reinvented by Phillipe Starck (top of this post). The 1006 Navy Side Chair is the real deal, made to the same exacting standards as the originals.

Featured in the current DWR catalog is the newest member of the Navy Chair family which made its debut only a few weeks ago.

The 111 Navy Chair is made from recycled plastic coke bottles—111 of them—and is available in six fun colors. A collaboration between Emeco and Coca-Cola, this little chair, if sales progress as DWR believes they will, is expected to keep three million plastic Coke bottles out of landfills each year.

What brought on my sudden interest in Navy chairs? Well, I've always been aware of them, but when I received the new DWR catalog, I was really taken with what a great idea the 111 chair is. To the point that I walked around my house trying to picture one somewhere (the jury's still out on that decision). And then, on Saturday, I saw South Pacific on stage at The Ahmanson. Navy guys and gals dancing and singing up a tropical storm - if this current tour comes to a theater near you, go! - and whenever the set changed to The Island Commander's Office, there they were: aluminum Navy chairs at each desk. Ok, so I'm aware that this tiny detail may have totally escaped most people and really has nothing at all to do with the greatness that is this show, but it appears that I simply had Navy chairs on the brain. Or maybe it was one of those moments when, instead of watching the characters in a play or a movie, I'm busy studying the wallpaper behind them. Don't judge me, I can't help myself.

Click on the image above and you'll be treated to musical highlights, interesting commentary, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it shot of a Navy chair on stage plus, for all you Gleeks out there, glimpses of a sometimes shirtless Matthew Morrison/Mr. Schuester who starred as Lieutenant Cable in the 2008 Lincoln Center production of the show. You're welcome!

May Flowers, Green Weekend

The delicate, sweetly-fragranced lily of the valley is the traditional birthday flower for those of us born in the month of May. Its botanical name, majalis, even means "that which belongs to May". A symbol of spring and rebirth, bunches of these tiny flowers are sold in the streets of France on May Day (May 1st). In the language of flowers used by florists and wedding planners, common meanings for this lily include "return to happiness", "purity of heart", "sweetness" and "you've made my life complete". I have a card hanging in my office that my husband gave me years ago. On the cover is a beautiful bouquet of lilies of the valley. I think he was telling me—however unwittingly—that I make his life complete! (Right, Honey?)


The legend of the lily of the valley's origins is that it sprang from Eve's tears when she was sent out of the Garden of Eden. It is in some places believed that this flower protects gardens from evil spirits, and in Ireland, the plant is known as "fairy ladders" because of the way the bell-shaped flowers hang down from the stem like stair steps. I also think the flowers would make excellent fairy hats. This particular lily is a woodland plant native throughout the cool temperature regions of the Northern Hemisphere in Asia, Europe and the Eastern US. They would never survive here in the arid foothills of Southern California. I wouldn't be surprised though if some intrepid botanist has designed a hybrid I don't know about. If so, even I could have my very own fairy garden. Do you have these little pretties in your garden?


While writing this post, the white flowers and green foliage in the pics above reminded me of the following scenes from the latest Design Within Reach catalog. . .

. . .white lawn chairs on cool green grass, dockside Adirondacks, crisp green upholstery on a patio overlooking the ocean, grassy green tableware under a wide white umbrella. . . all images of terrific ways to spend any part of this long holiday weekend—a "return to happiness" for those who've waited patiently for summer to officially begin.

Happy Birthday to all of you May babies out there!

And Happy Weekend to us all!!

This post marks the last in my "flower of the month" series—which means I've been writing this blog for an entire year now! They've been fun for me and I hope you've enjoyed them too. To review the entire year in flowers, click here.

This Woman's Day

I wish I was having this woman's day. Warmed by the sun, cooled by the ocean breeze. Deeply engrossed in a compelling story. Free to put the book down and simply sit and watch the sailboats dance by. Secure in the knowledge that my ample thighs have been given a makeover of such artful, glowing brushstrokes that I am beautiful to behold. These thoughts confirmed by my companion as he returns from the cabana bar with tall drinks for two and a wink just for me.

I wish I was having this woman's day. While strolling down this lakeside path, having all the time I could possibly need to enjoy the beauty all around me, I decide to take a nap on the cool, lush grass. Wouldn't you? I shade my porcelain skin with my parasol and listen to the leaves rustle, the birds sing. I think deep thoughts like "hey, that cloud looks like an adorable baby bunny" until I drift off to sleep the sleep of a carefree child. Blissfully unaware that there is anything wrong in my world.

I wish I was having this woman's day. Or, perhaps, the day she has already had. For hours, she busied herself with creative pursuits and was satisfyingly rewarded for her efforts. Now, it is evening and she is simply waiting. For her love. For her children. For whomever it is that pleases her most to come into her beautiful room and share with her the stories of their own productive day. With nothing pressing weighing on her mind, she will give them her full attention and thoroughly enjoy their company.

Instead, I am having this woman's day. A very long string of them actually. Fragmented. Disjointed. Pulled in several directions, not sure which way to turn first. Trying to get too many unpleasant things done from a very uncomfortable chair. I really wish I had paid more attention to my hair and wardrobe just in case someone sees me here, shoulder-deep in paperwork and unexpected complications. It wouldn't have made any difference though because, look, someone has made me wear a hat. I hate hats.


Lots going on right now, Friends. Some of it pleasant and welcome, much of it disconcerting and chaotic. Daughter is home for a few months til she heads up north to a new college, a household's-worth of stuff and one naughty cat in tow. New projects in various stages of incomplete, both for our own home and a client's. The middle of a project—the part where everything's undone and messy—always makes me feel unsettled. And yet, I have no time to finish what I've started in my own house because of client work (good) and changes in my "day job" (not so good). The day job is more demanding than usual right now because the contract I've worked under for fifteen years has come to an end. Much longer work hours are required from me each week until all accounts have been audited and closed. How long will that take? 30 days? Sixty? More? And then what? Tracy needs a new job, that's what. I'd love to leave the world of claims and codes and insurance companies behind and move forward into something creative again. That's been the plan all along—work at home til daughter grows up and out then find a home and design related job that allows for part-time decorating work. Great plan, bad timing. Our current economy might make this process more difficult than I imagined but still, I'm looking forward to seeing what's out there for me. Stepping into the unknown is scary for sure, but exhilarating at the same time, right? That's what I keep telling myself anyway—"This is so exciting, isn't it?!"—a big hopeful grin masking my inner terror.

To my readers who are bloggers, if I've been absent from your comments box recently, this is why. I've been visiting you, but my brain is simply too overloaded to form thoughtful, witty remarks. To everyone reading, at the risk of seeming selfish, I'd like to instead ask for your comments. Thoughts. Advice. Direction. Help! Where, in Southern California, on the eastern edge of LA County, can a 40-something woman with loads of professionalism, design acumen and an obsession with furnishings, fabrics and finishing touches earn a regular paycheck helping people turn their houses into homes during a shaky-but-slowly-recovering economy? Any suggestions? All are welcome.

Three lovely ladies by Marie Fox, Edward Cucuel, John Maler Collier, and one amazingly accurate portrait of me by Pablo Picassso.