Cymax Hits the Great Outdoors

Summer is finally showing face around here. My flip-flops are out of storage, I’ve switched out my sweaters for tank tops and my pants for shorts in my dresser, and I’ve come to the conclusion that slowly, and not too surely, I am turning into my mother.

My mother’s garden is spectacular. She’s got everything from roses to irises to gladioli and about a hundred more flowers with names that I can’t pronounce. In the summer, she lives in the garden, watering each morning, pulling weeds, and trimming plants. When I still lived at home, I’d watch from inside, with my morning coffee, wanting none of it. When my parents went away when I was a teenager, I was put in charge of the plants, but the only thing I was good at was eating her cherry tomatoes off the vine. On her return, my mother toured her garden with a frown, assessing the damage. Remarkably, she had a knack for bringing back to life the plants I thought I’d slain for good. But regardless of my mother’s healing touch, I was the black thumb of the family.

Over a decade has passed since I’ve lived at my parents’ house, but this is the first summer I will be spending in a new home that I’ve only been living in since the fall. Impressed by the size of the deck, my mother called a few months ago to say she had a “few pots” for the new place. A few pots turned out to be about twenty five, and now the deck looks nothing short of a forest. A forest, full of annuals and perennials (I had to look up the difference between the two), that I have to keep alive.

So far, so good, I’m pleased to say. With the exception of a few snap dragons that are not living up to their strong, fierce name, and blue violets that have chosen to turn black, I’ve done pretty well. Well enough to show them off, even. But the plastic pots looked cheap and all the plants were positioned on the same level, so before I invited over any company, I gave my deck a make-over.

Cymax has brand new products for the outdoors, which suited my deck to a tee. With the convenience of online shopping, I was able to bring even more life to my patio. Without killing a thing, I uprooted and replanted my forest into quality H Potter Sonoma Planters, which are made of stunning stainless steel with a rustic copper finish that highlights my plants beautifully. Now, my flowers are displayed using different levels on artistic Alfresco Home Round Mosaic Plant Stands, which come in sets of two or three, and also on a multi-level Pangaea Victorian Iron Plant Stand. I even bought a garden wall trellis by Rustic Natural Cedar Co. for my honeysuckle, and to add that last touch of blissful summery ambience to my now favorite place in my home, I have a ceramic glazed water fountain.

My plants are thriving and I am very proud to say that I haven’t used an ounce of chemical fertilizer in my soil, but I have added 100% organic and biodegradable CocoLite Bricks, which are a natural alternative to peat moss. Although not a fertilizer, these bricks can be added to any potting soil to help retain moisture and nutrients in plants. I’d like to think the healthy state of my plants is solely a result of my newly obtained green thumb, but I know the soil has every bit as much to do with their success as I do.

So, the ambience of the deck is taken care of on a botanical level. It’s the rest of the deck that now needs work. In order to show off my floral successes, my next purchases will be more new products from Cymax, like a Pangaea Garden Torch to light up the deck for dinner parties, and patio furniture so that my guests can eat, drink, and relax in style. And because summer weather around here can be temperamental, and the evenings still get chilly, maybe even a patio heater.

But the most important part of a garden party? Food and drinks, of course. Cymax now sells outdoor grills, like the Napoleon Grills Prestige, that make summer cooking fun and easy, as you can spend your time with guests instead of running back and forth from the kitchen to your outdoor space. To complete your garden of bliss by keeping those summer ales cold, add the finishing touch of a beverage cooler, and I assure you, your guests will be satiated and delighted.

I am going away on vacation in a few days and have asked my mother to care for my plants while I’m gone. After her initial shock that my plants are still alive, she agreed. I wish I could be there to see her expression when she walks out on the deck. I have a feeling that she will be very, very pleased with me.

Technicolor Memories and the Living Rainbow

My childhood home was a dream for anyone ten years old or younger. My parents built the home in a tiny, dusty town a three hour’s drive from the nearest large city. We had a diner, a grocery store, and two service stations – across the road from each other – and not much else. I hadn’t experienced fast food or shopping malls until we moved and I was nearly a teenager; perfect timing, don’t you think?

My parents built the house specifically with my brother and I in mind – if we were kept entertained, we’d be out of their way. The playroom in the basement was carpeted with multicolored squares to create a patchwork rainbow. There was a “hidden” room under the stairs that became our secret lair. The walls, with a stark white base, were encouraged to be made our own; several masterpieces and brilliant prose have surely long since been painted over. The best part of the house, however, was the backyard.

Painstakingly each spring, my mom and dad would plant the gardens. All around the perimeter were beautiful blooming flowers, teeming with ladybugs and dragonflies. Two apple trees sat in the middle, perfectly executed as a “home base” when playing tag, or makeshift goal posts. Raspberries, strawberries and rhubarb stained the corners red – along with every child’s face on our block. Near the back was a vegetable garden that produced every color of the rainbow: tomatoes, pumpkins, beans, peas, cabbage, carrots, onions, cucumbers, corn, and potatoes. It was all we ate in the summer and likely why I have such an aversion to frozen vegetables now. Once you’ve pulled a carrot and rinsed off the dirt with the garden hose, you can never settle for something shrink wrapped.

The inaugural gardening day usually took place in late April. Dad begrudgingly pulled down his cap and set to work – his job was the worst; he was in charge of bug and leaf removal. Mom brought out all her baby plants and flowers and dug new homes for them in the freshly fertilized soil. I watched from the sidelines, wondering how dead grass and gray dirt would ever become the garden I was accustomed to.

Before I knew it, the backyard was alive again and with the sun came the anticipation of apple pies and carrot cake to eat and bumblebees and butterflies to catch. I remember stuffing unlucky bugs into old yogurt cups to keep as pets, only to have my brother set them free in the evening. And my parents, sitting on their garden swing, illuminated by the watchful eye of the outdoor porch light, taking it all in, enjoying the fruits of their labor, sometimes literally.

As summer rounds the corner and dusk brings the scents of barbeque and the sounds of tag, I wonder if the people who moved into our old house twenty years ago maintained the backyard as my parents did. I wonder if they had children to play amongst the greens and yellows and reds as we had. And I wonder if I could still catch a butterfly.

When the Chips are Down…

In these irritatingly health conscious times when everyone is making sure that their antioxidants are detoxifying and their Omegas are Omega-ing, one can find themselves a little overwhelmed amongst the obnoxiously fit and the pompously healthy. One might even find themselves so irritated that they want to go out and buy a bag of chips just to spite those endlessly athletic goons who seem to be absolutely everywhere. So you go to the local 7-11 and buy yourself a delicious bag of Doritos. Oh Doritos, you think to yourself, you would never tell me that I need to drop a few pounds. You pull open the bag and that glorious whoosh of Nacho Cheese, Cool Ranch or Sweet Chili Heat wraps your face in deliciousness. You look inside the bag and, what is this? Your hard earned scratch (for some reason, Doritos always seem staggeringly expensive compared to the rest), has been spent on half a bag of chips and half a bag of air. Don’t get me wrong, that first sweet gust of nacho breeze is a delight, but a five dollar delight? No thank you.

This is only the tip of the iceberg and this reporter has had enough. At 22 years old, I feel as though I am far too young to be saying, “I remember when you got a whooole bag of chips for only $2.50! That’s right! Doritos! And I had walk up a massive hill, there and back in my bare feet…in the snow…chased by wildebeests…just to get them.” All of that is true.

Seriously though, if I am buying a pricey bag of quality potato chips, I want a full ass bag, not this half air foolishness. Hey, I wish I didn’t have to spend close to five dollars on a bag of chips, but unfortunately, Doritos have made their chips so delicious and irresistible, there is really nothing I can do about it now. They are far superior to any other kind of chip, let alone nacho chip, and whether that is due to an addictive chemical sprinkled in with the Cool Ranch, I don’t know. But what I do know is myself - and I’m sure many others - find ourselves craving them nightly. There is a reason that 7-11 is open all night, and believe me friend, it has nothing to do with convenience. It has to do with the financial liabilities related to nacho-crazed fiends tearing up the front of your store every night. You think insurance covers that? As well as the fact that 7-11 probably makes a sixth of its entire revenue based on nightly Doritos sales alone. Think about it.

So what is going on around here? Has anyone taken a look at the Big Mac lately? Or should I say, Moderately-sized Mac? Those two all-beef patties would blow away if someone left a window open. The “special sauce” barely drips down my sesame seed buns. And don’t get me started on the lettuce. I have never seen such a mountain of shredded lettuce in my entire life. Did they think that no one would notice? That they could camouflage the declining Mac with heaps of watery lettuce? No way. I needs me meat. I may as well start getting the Filet O’ Fish; at least that has ALWAYS sucked. And there is something to be said for consistency.

Well luckily, there is one unhealthy outlet that will always remain consistent. And that my friends, is the bar. Regardless of where you go, the alcohol ratios are always the same. One mixed drink, by law, contains one ounce of alcohol and the alcohol percentages of beers are printed clearly on the label. Sometime you wanna go where everybody knows your name; where you know exactly how many gin and tonics it will take to get you nice and crunk. And there is nothing better than parking your caboose on a comfortable bar stool, whether it’s a chic and fancy leather bar stool or a sunny patio’s outdoor bar stool. A nice, consistently boozed-up cocktail is made that much better with a comfy barstool to relax on. Who doesn’t love a good swiveling bar stool? Now that is some sassy seating.

So take a good old fashioned trip to the bar, or, better yet, start construction on your own home bar and simply visit LeatherBarstoolSelect.com, SwivelBarstoolSelect.com or OutdoorBarstoolSelect.com and explore the vast selection of stylish swivel barstools, durable outdoor barstools and chic leather barstools. Start building your own personal drinking environment, where the drinks are always generously proportioned and the chip bags are half full…not half empty.