Hi! I’m Itty. I could describe myself in several different ways, but since I believe our passions and the choices we make every day illustrate our most basic qualities, I have to say that in my heart of hearts, I am and always have been a consummate home maker. My personality is generally upbeat. On the surface I sometimes appear to have a tendency to romanticize life, but the fact is, I’m much too practical to actually qualify as a dreamer.
Let’s just say my childhood was rather Bohemian in practice, a lot of moving around, shallow roots, big family loyalty, but nothing that embraced those outside our small inner circle. There was Mom and Dad, my brother and sister, and me. I used to actually think we were pirates, and our car, the ship we used to travel to new lands in search of treasure. The truth is I never wanted to find anything more than I already had. I never wanted to be rich or famous, but the one thing I secretly desired was the planting of deep roots.
Like many Baby Boomers, I grew up watching tame television programs where every messy dilemma was solved in 30 minutes minus commercial breaks. That’s when I met Aunt Bea, Andy Griffith’s jovial, organized, slightly a-twitter, (surrogate mother to his son, Opie), resident matriarch of the house. For me, Aunt Bea epitomized the concept of consistency, thus feeding my hunger for tradition and the roots that held everything else in place. It wasn’t long until Aunt Bea trumped my list of heroines, that to that point, consisted of Mrs. Santa Clause and Ethyl Mertz.
Aunt-Bea-Me reflects that side of me; anything else I consider remotely descriptive falls terribly short of the bar I set as a child. My fascination with Pinterest proved there are lots of women interested in reviving the fine arts and treasured traditions of home making. There is nothing like the satisfaction you feel when creating something yourself; the only thing better is sharing the results of your creative efforts with the people you love. So welcome to Aunt-Bea-Me and lets have some fun as I, metaphorically speaking, channel Aunt Bea with all her dizzying energy across these pages.