jenjoy

Fourth of July in my 'hood

I decided to lay low this year and spend Fourth of July at my house.  My new dog, Tennessee (more on her in a later post), was a quivering mess at the sound of firecrackers so I doped her up early.  She spent most of the night in the closet or with her nose in a corner, shivering in fear.  Poor baby.

 

As darkness fell, my neighbor Mary Ann (I call her Ms. Mott but she wants me to call her Mary Ann—I have a feeling we will be “discussing” this issue for many years) and I plop on our neighbor’s steps across from our homes and enjoy the dueling fireworks at both ends of the street.  As soon as one group would send up a bevy of sparkling lights, the other end would reload and try to outdo them.  I liken it to being in a gang war but with sparklers and fireworks and of course, no violence. 

 

The big fireworks in Nashville are launched from LP field, which is about a mile from my house, and can be viewed directly down the middle of my street.  All of our neighbors were in their lawn chairs or lying on their cars or up on their roofs because we had the best view in town…with no traffic!  The couple that lives across the street had their grandkids with them and their granddaughter, Mow Mow (spelling?) crawled up in my lap.  Her favorite color is pink so every time there were pink fireworks I would whisper in her ear that I arranged those special for her.  I could slowly feel her relaxing into my lap, her head nodding off, and before long, even the excitement of Fourth of July couldn’t keep the three year old awake.  After all, it was almost 10P. 

 

As I clasp my hands around her round little tummy so she wouldn’t slid off my lap, I thought, this is why I moved here.  To share these moments with my community, to have my neighbors gathered around me, celebrating special events, to reconnect to people, heck to my own life.  Yep.  This is why.

 

Life Goes On

I know I promised to write more.  And I realized last week why I wasn’t writing.  Not because both my grandmother and uncle died within four weeks of each other…but because I wasn’t ready to write about them.  And I’m still not ready.  The loss and pain is still too fresh.   I will write about them when I am ready.  What I am sure of is that neither one of them would want me to stop writing.  They know that life goes on, and should go on and by honoring life I honor them.  So here goes…

 

Things are in full bloom here at the new Blair Casa.  Remember this mystery plant?

 

 

Well, here it is in full bloom.  My friend Janie keeps telling me what it is and I promptly forget.  I do love it though.

 

I bought a beautiful hanging basket for my front porch during my first visit to the Farmer’s Market.  A momma sparrow promptly set up a nest and laid eggs.  I have enjoyed watching the eggs, then the ugly hatchlings, then the soft, downy young’uns grow and then one day, I watched as they all flew away. 

That is it for now. I know it’s not much but it’s a start!

Good Bye Los Angeles

After three long weeks of packing my condo, shedding “stuff”, going to doctors and seeing all my friends, the time has come to drive off into the sunset.  Except that I am going East to Nashville, so I guess that would really be driving off into the sunrise.  Ah, semantics….

 In my last few days in Los Angeles, I went to U-Haul on Sepulveda to buy some special sized boxes.   I recalled the day, almost exactly sixteen years earlier, that I dropped off the small U-Haul I towed from Memphis behind my blue Toyota Corolla.    The circle is complete.

 Except of course that I have WAY more stuff!

 My friends keep asking me if I have any second thoughts?  Doubts?  Remorse?  I have none.  In fact, now that I reflect on it, I can’t believe I lived here sixteen years.  That is the longest that I have ever lived ANYWHERE!   

 I have felt for some time now, that my life was passing me by.  I think by making this move I am again participating in my own life.  It is time.

 Nate came to see me off on Saturday.  As I drove off, he stood in the middle of the road so I would see him waving good-bye in my rear view mirror.  His wave and the sadness on his face spoke for all my friends.  “Good luck but I hope you will miss me as much as I will miss you.”

 

Don’t worry, my friends.  I will.

And with the house comes a yard!

A yard.  As much as I want one, I have no idea what to do with it.  Growing up the only thing I knew about a yard was that it was the space between the house and my car.  My dad was FOREVER mowing it, and mom was always landscaping and salivating at the bulb catalogs that came religiously to the house. 

As if buying a house that is three times as big as my current condo isn't enough, now there is a huge expanse of fenced in green stuff that demands my attention.

My first visit to Home Depot after moving  was very stressful.  I was assaulted by the hose aisle the moment I entered.  Who knew there were so many types of hoses.  Do I need  a hose?  I'm pretty sure I do.  Do I need one for the back?  One for the front?  One for the side?  Do I need something to hide the hose, one of those pretty pretend pots or a beautiful hose holder that attaches to house?  And nozzles?  Surely if I need a hose I need a nozzle.  Who knew there were so many types of nozzles?  I was beginning to feel nauseous.  Okay, Jennifer, focus.  I tried to read about the different hoses, all the different lengths and something called a soaker hose for your flower beds (which I think is a brilliant invention) but the words kept blurring and I started to hyperventilate.  I took a deep breath. Then another.  Screw it.  It suppose to rain tomorrow so I don't need to buy a hose today. 

Then I was assaulted by the rake aisle.  Who knew there were so many types of rakes.

Well, you get the picture of how my visit to Home Depot progressed.  I was exhausted by the time I left. (Yes, I did manage to pick out a rake.)

I have decided to wait and see what springs up in my yard, before I do anything major.  I know that the lady that used to live here didn't like blooming "things" but I have random daffodils and other flowers popping up, thanks to the squirrels.  And I have a beautiful Bradford Pear tree (really a Callery Pear tree) that is in its full white blossom glory right now.  I wish it would give me real pears but, alas, it won't.

This time next year, I will take full command of my yard.  Until then, I will surrender to the surprises.

 (Anybody know what this is?  I have NO CLUE!)

Home

The papers are signed.  The house that belonged to the Ball family for over 80 years, now belongs to the Blair family. 

(signing the papers, photo by my realtor, Darlene Reves)

I remember when I bought my Los Angeles’ condo, marveling at the ownership of a piece of property.  The pride.  

 

But I never knew that you could love a house as much as I love this house.

I love the original hardwood floors, with their odd stains and colorations from 80 years of life and the way the master bathroom and the mudroom light up with the setting sun, casting a golden aura through the back of the house.  

 

I stand in my pantry and soak up the smells captured from the previous evening's cooking, sautéed onions and garlic and baked cornbread and try to imagine these smells from previous years.

 

The basement, with its tree trunk support system and the old pencil sharpener still attached to the original stairs, fascinates me.   Old shelves call out for homemade jams and canned peaches.   The original basement door and the coal buzzer remind me of the house’s past, when there was a coal burning furnace and a pot bellied stove in the kitchen.

 

And the woodwork in the house is masterful.  The man who built the house worked in a lumberyard and rumor is that he carefully handpicked each piece needed to build his house.  All the doors are original and even though they have been redone, they still hold the scars of life etched into them, scrapes and dents marking the years of kids, furniture, and pets.

 

The house has a history of its own, a life fully lived and now I am part of that history, hoping to create my own wonderful memories of time well spent.   This house represents all the things that I want my life to be, the room to grow, to have family and friends near,  to fill the house with love, life and community. 

 

Welcome home.

Jen's Nashville House

Long Time No Talk

Remember when the film "Priest" was taking up all my time?  I left "Priest" a week before they wrapped filming and headed to Nashville to work on another Screen Gems movie, "Love Don't Let Me Down", starring Gwyneth Paltrow and Tim McGraw.

I love Nashville and have decided to move here.  But you will hear more about that later.  Meanwhile, here are a few pictures to keep you entertained.

My boss, Meredith Zamsky and me at the famous Loveless Cafe, one of the top breakfast stops in the United States.

 We spend a little more time drinking while on location but mostly I am a homebody! 

Below is me on the "stage" that we built in a warehouse.

Lastly, a sign in THE STAGE bar on Broadway in Nashville, where we filmed for several days.

I promise more soon.