Rest in Peace, Dear Pompey

It is with sadness and gratitude that I write today's post, a tribute to my dear sweet Pompey, who died two weeks ago after fourteen happy, play-filled years.  Pompey's amusing antics graced this blog many times since its inception, and he was a great favorite of many of you, Dear Reader.

Pompey Darling
May 12, 1999 to July 8, 2013

As I reported in an earlier post, we almost lost Pompey a few short months ago.  We were fortunate that we didn't, though, and the time we had with him since then allowed us to cherish him all the more, loving him every moment we were blessed with his company until it came time for us to say our final goodbye.

At the kitchen door at Darlington

Funny, faithful, and loving, Pompey was all that I could have ever hoped for in what I truly believe is "man's best friend."  He certainly was mine.  I did adore him so.

In my arms on Nantucket

I fell in love with Pompey the day we brought him home to Darlington House as a wee puppy, fourteen years ago.  I've been besotted with him ever since.  So good natured, so friendly, such a fond companion Pompey was.  I called him my "little one" and my "little man."  Boy called him his "sweet familiar," a name that always made me smile.

Snug in his bed at Darlington

I knew that when we retrieved Pompey from the animal hospital after his scare in May that we had him on borrowed time.  Although enfeebled by his ordeal, Pompey rallied over the ensuing weeks, and there were times when he almost resembled his old playful, darling self.  A week before he died, though, he started to decline, and it became clear to Boy and me—at first individually and then acknowledged between the two of us—that our sweet fellow was beginning to check out.  The evening before he died Pompey went into a spiral, and no amount of painkiller medicine that I administered to him was able to alleviate his suffering over a long and sleepless night.  Poor, dear little man.

By four in the morning I knew that his time was up.

In a pensive mood

I woke Boy, and the two of us got out of bed with Pompey and carried him downstairs.  We took him out to our screened porch, where the three of us had spent many happy times over the years.  We waited there together as the dawn broke, Pompey lying on the sofa between the two of us, breathing slowly.  A calm settled on us as we sat there quietly, our little family close together for the last time, listening to the sounds of the birds waking and calling their early morning songs.

Happy as a clam with Boy on Nantucket

I telephoned the vet's office as soon as it opened, and arranged to bring Pompey in later that morning.  His end was merciful and swift, and Pompey died with dignity, sheltered in the embrace of those who adored him most, bathed in our tears and love.

I shall miss my dear sweet darling for the rest of my days.

At the Four Seasons in Baltimore

I am truly blessed, Dear Reader, to have had the privilege of Pompey's loving friendship for fourteen years.  I am grateful that Boy and I were able to raise and nurture him with love and care, and that he lived with affection his entire life.  And I am fortunate to have known the devotion of Pompey's faithful companionship for more than a quarter of my own life.  I know I am a better person for it.

On our bed at Darlington

Thank you, dear Pompey, for all the joy, laughter, affection, and fun you brought to me and to those who loved you over the years.  You were a very special, very much loved friend.

May you rest in peace, dear little one.  I will always love you.

Photographs by Boy Fenwick and Reggie Darling

Mrs. Whaley, By Way of Maxminimus

I recently received a gift of a book from my esteemed fellow-blogger Maxminimus.  Titled Mrs. Whaley and Her Charleston Garden, the book is ostensibly about the author's justifiably famous garden in Charleston, South Carolina.  But it is more than that.  It is a charming and thought-provoking memoir that delves into Mrs. Whaley's past, her family, her marriage, and her philosophy of life.

Maxminimus' gift, photographed by Boy Fenwick
in the gardening barn at Darlington House

Maxminimus sent it to me, he said, because of the post I wrote awhile back, on Charleston Receipts.  He thought I might like it.  And he was right.

It is always so nice to have a book inscribed by its giver
Photograph by Boy Fenwick

It is not a particularly weighty tome, but it is one that resonates and ripples beyond its covers.  I highly recommend it to you, Dear Reader.

Mrs. Whaley's Charleston garden
Image courtesy of Preservation Nation

Mrs. Emily Whaley, who died in 1998 at the ripe age of eighty-seven, was of a vanishing breed of women that once spread throughout this country, whose population has been sadly depleted by the passage of time, the spiraling cost of living, and the supposed benefits of "progress."  She was of a class of women, largely wives and mothers, who were raised in a culture that valued tradition, continuity, self-discipline, service to others, and positive thinking.  While some, like Mrs. Whaley, were raised in affluence, it was not a prerequisite for belonging to this breed of women.  An appreciation for thrift and economy were also among its hallmarks.  They planned ahead.

Mrs. Emily Whaley with landscape architect Loutrel Briggs
Photographed in the 1970s
Mr. Briggs designed Mrs. Whaley's garden in 1940
Image courtesy of the Cultural Landscape Foundation

I was quite charmed by Mrs. Whaley's book, the stories she tells in its pages, and the nuggets of wisdom she shares.  The book is full of her keen observations and sensible opinions on matters ranging from working with others, marriage, raising a family, faith, getting involved, and being active.  She genuinely liked people, was appreciative of the advantages she had either been given or worked hard for, loved her dog Rosie, and didn't take herself (or others) too seriously.  She was happy to poke fun at herself.  And she was a worker, too—whether it be in her garden, helping out family members or friends, or toiling on behalf of a worthy cause.

Mrs. Emily Whaley with her beloved Rosie
sitting in her Charleston garden in 1997
Photographed by Milton Morris
Image courtesy of Workman Publishing Group

In short, Mrs. Whaley was a lady.  In the very best sense of the word.  She was someone that one would be proud to have as a mother or as a wife.  And she was a person that one would most certainly be honored to count as a treasured friend.

Thank you, Maxie, for introducing me to the delightful Mrs. Whaley.

Reggie is sure that you will enjoy Mrs. Whaley's memoir as much as he did, Dear Reader.  It can be ordered here from its publisher, Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill.  It is also most likely available in print and on ebooks at your local public library.

The Divine Diane Dorrans Saeks

A number of years ago, before Reggie dared test the waters of bloggerdom with his silly scribbles, there was a luminary in the blogosphere that he followed as a regular reader and sometime commenter.  To call her a "blogger" is a meagre understatement, for she is far more than that—she is a whirling dervish of creativity, style, and elegance, and a person of the most exquisite and sublime taste imaginable.  She is a sparkling beacon in the design world, a jet-setter of the most rarified sort, and an author of more than twenty iconic design books.  Her name is Diane Dorrans Saeks.  She can be found at her marvelously absorbing blog The Style Saloniste, as a contributor in the pages of shelter and lifestyle magazines, and on the bookshelves of virtually anyone who follows and is interested in the world of design.

Diane Dorran Saeks at one of her many book signing parties

Back when I was still but but a commenter on others' blogs, Ms. Saeks urged me to start up my own blog, and she encouraged my rather mundane efforts at it, confident that I could do better and one day be something of worth (or at least amusement) to the 'sphere.  I count Ms. Saeks—along with Mrs. Blandings, Emily Evans Eerdmans, and the Blushing Hostess—among my earliest champions and as someone to whom I will always be indebted for giving me the courage to strike out on my own and follow in the shadows of her vaunted and very well-shod blogging footsteps.

Ms. Saeks' blurb in the current issue of House Beautiful

Imagine my surprise and rapturous pleasure to find Ms. Saeks' quote in the current (March) issue of House Beautiful in which she notes the blog you are now reading, Dear Reader, as one of her "current obsessions."

Reggie is all agog and astonished as such an accolade, and he returns it with lavish praise and blushing thanks to Ms. Saeks, a beacon in the worlds of design, elegance, chic, and grace.

Thank you, Diane Dorrans Saeks.  I am truly honored and grateful for such approbation.  You are, in a word, divine.

Here's to Next Year . . .

Among the pleasures of this nearly finished year, a number of our dear friends, Boy, and I were also offered a sobering set of private challenges.  We sit here in our kitchen at Darlington House, with the light turning gray outside the windows, and the views to the Catskills blurring, and think fondly of all the people upon whom we depend, who depend on us, and who are connected in meaningful ways with our household and our businesses.

The dawning of a new year is also the dawning of a new day.  Noticing that the one and only potted Amaryllis we have this winter was trumpeting its first blossom, Boy whisked it out to the column upon which sits our sundial and snapped this photograph: a colorful bloom against a fading sky.

Happy New Year, Dear Reader.

Photograph by Boy Fenwick

Reggie on New York Social Diary Today, Again

Dear Reader, I am pleased as punch to have Reggie's Ten (Little) Rules for Keeping It Together appear today on New York Social Dairy, again.

David Patrick Columbia, the mastermind behind NYSD (along with Jeff Hirsch), published these Rules earlier this year on his marvelous blog (of which I am an avid follower and sometime contributor), and he has re-run them today as one of his year-end collections from the archives of this year's NYSD.

For those of my readers who are not regular readers of NYSD, I urge you to visit it often.  While the party pictures and social histories featured are always lots of fun, DPC also shares with his followers thought-provoking and, at times, moving essays and reflections upon life, growing up, and lessons learned.  As a case in point, I provide you with a link to a recent essay he wrote, titled Christmas as a Kid, about his experience growing up in a household where all was not always jolly during the holidays, but where the Christmas spirit still shone through.  I found it moving, and I believe you will to.

Thank you, DPC!

Image courtesy of NYSD

I'm Just Wild About Slim

One of my favorite bloggers in the lifestyle sphere where I bobble about is Slim Paley, whose blog of her fabulous and über-stylish life in and about Santa Barbara, Sun Valley, and other swell environs is a "must read" of mine.  She's marvelously funny, wickedly smart, intensely visual, and takes the most gorgeous photographs of flowers, fashion, and interiors, many of her own, that she shares with us, her most fortunate followers.  She's a dynamo!

A week ago Ms. Paley posted a series of photos of her Christmas tree, in which she showed that she had decorated it with, among other things, the most beautiful dried slices of oranges imaginable.  The moment I saw Slim's Christmas orange slices I was filled with longing to have some for myself.  Well, not actually longing, Dear Reader, but rather lust.  I left a comment that indicated a certain degree of my covetousness.  Yes, Reggie admits that he is not immune to one or two of the Seven Deadly Sins from time to time.  He is mortal, after all.

Imagine my surprise and delight when I received a brown-paper package shortly thereafter from Lady Paley containing her gift of several dozen of said orange slices.  Not only was the package prettily and cleverly wrapped, but what it contained was as precious as jewels!

Within but a blink of an eye of my opening the package, Boy began hanging the orange slices on our Christmas tree at Darlington House.  He was already well underway placing the vintage (and some new-ish) glass gold, silver, and green ornaments that he had chosen as his color scheme this year.  What timing!  Boy darted to the basement and retrieved his small rare stash or orange glass ornaments to complete the new palette.

What had originally been conceived of as a Winter Woodland Christmas tree at Darlington House was now transformed into a citrusy shimmer of gold, green, silver, and orange.

I am beside myself with joy.

Thank you, dear Slim Paley.

Photographs by Boy Fenwick

Reggie's Thanksgiving Tradition

Every year, at Thanksgiving, while sitting at the celebratory meal with family and friends, I follow a tradition where I suggest that each person at the table shares what it is he or she is most thankful for.  I know that some people find this hokey, and it does at times make people uncomfortable.  But I press on, and I encourage everyone to participate, because I find that what people have to say they are thankful for is fascinating, in many cases enlightening, and oftentimes food for thought and later reflection.  It is also a window into the souls and lives of those who are willing to do so, as most people are, I find.  Regardless of how tough a year someone may have had, there is usually something they can be genuinely thankful for.

A sheaf of wheat decorating our dining room
for Thanksgiving at Darlington House

Pausing during the hurly-burly of the meal to listen to and reflect upon what those of us who are sitting there are thankful for makes the gathering more memorable, in my view, and hearkens back to the very reason we find ourselves at the table in the first place: to give thanks.

The colors and patterns that one sets one's
Thanksgiving table with can be subdued . . .

Sometimes the answers given are short and sweet, and other times can be surprisingly emotional and sad, if not wrenching.  Whether sweet or sad, however, I believe the process of listening to what others say they are thankful for, and then volunteering what oneself is also thankful for, makes the observance of Thanksgiving a more enriching experience for many of us.

. . . or rich and exhuberant—whatever
strikes one's fancy or mood

This year, as I do most years, I expect to say that I am most thankful for my health, for my sanity, and for the deeply rewarding and ever-evolving marriage I have with my wonderful spouse, Boy Fenwick.  There are other things that I am thankful for, too, but these are the ones that sit at the top of my list this Thanksgiving Day.

Tell me, Dear Reader, what are you thankful for?

Photographs by Boy Fenwick

The Passage of Time . . .

Hello, Dear Reader.

I am afraid that I have been rather remiss in my postings of late, despite my stated intentions to the contrary.

The sundial at Darlington House

A number of you have been so kind as to ask what accounts for my absence and have sent me your good wishes and felicitations.  Thank you.

I am happy to report that all is well in the Darlington household.  My absence from the Blogosphere is largely attributable to a grueling, albeit extremely interesting and absorbing, work-related travel schedule that takes me out of the country and away from ready wifi access for days at a time.  When I have returned to my beloved Darlington between my travels I have been much engaged in catching up, relaxing, and recharging my batteries, preparing for yet more international business travel.

So, that's what's up.

Once my travel commitments ease up, expected by mid-November, I plan on resuming my more regular posting.  In the meantime, I do have a number of essays to publish that I hope you will enjoy.

With fond regards, I am your most humble servant,

Reggie

Photography by Boy Fenwick

Back to School

It's that time of year again, isn't it?

A favorite old photograph of mine of a boy's cross country team
delightedly posing for the camera, sporting boutonnières

Autumn is my favorite season.  Although I am long past my schoolboy days, I am still drawn to the rhythm of the school calendar, more so than the Gregorian calendar that we use to mark the passing of days, weeks, and months.  Even though that calendar may say that the new year begins on January 1st, the day after Labor Day is more of a psychological new year's beginning for me.  That's when the new school year starts, and clothes are bought or taken out to wear again.  There is the sense that I have another opportunity to make something of myself, that I have another chance to succeed in what I put my mind to.

Coincidentally, Autumn is also the season here in the Hudson River Valley when the weather is at its most lyrically beautiful.  It is still summery and warm through much of September, and the skies are often cloudless and brilliantly cerulean blue, days on end.  There is little more beautiful to me than when the trees start to turn and then become ablaze with yellow, orange, and red leaves, and the fields become golden.  With the nights becoming refreshingly cool again it is perfect porch sleeping weather at Darlington House, one of the great joys of life, I believe.

As with so many new beginnings, though, there is work to be done.  And so I am back to RD again, after a lazy hiatus these past two months.  I had a busy June and July at the office which culminated in a lovely August largely devoted to spending time by the shore and then kicking back when I wasn't.  It was delightfully pleasant.

During the final weeks leading up to Labor Day the streets in midtown Manhattan are sparsely peopled during the day, with only a few tourists and office workers straggling about.  And it is a virtual ghost town on the UES where we live, as most of its inhabitants are either away for the summer or locked within their air conditioned apartments.  Fortunately for those of us who found ourselves in the city then, as I happily did this year, the restaurants were empty and thrilled to take walk-ins, there was no traffic to speak of, and the streets were full of empty taxis roaming for fares.  I love being in New York when everyone else is out of town.

The minute that Labor Day weekend is over, though, it is as if the starting gun has gone off at Saratoga, and, like clockwork, the city immediately becomes clogged again with throngs of people rushing about the sidewalks, traffic becomes unbearable, the restaurants are jammed to the rafters, and finding a free cab during rush hour is a fruitless exercise indeed.

Back to school.  Back to work.  Back to life.  Back to RD.

Here are some of the essays that I am working on that you can expect to see here in the coming weeks:

• New installments of Reggie's Rules
• A Pompey post or two
• An interview with a lovely lady who shares her mutual passion for collecting ceramics with me, which will first appear in New York Social Diary before running here
• The return of the Saucer of the Week essay
• A piece in which I explain how "Saint Grottlesex Made Me Who I Am Today"
• An essay about windsor chairs, and how they are a more versatile seating form than many give them credit for
• Musings about the distinctions between what it means to launder versus wash linens and clothes
• The joys of a well-ordered linen closet
• Some new additions to our collections at Darlington House, and
• Attending the Colonial Revival show at the Museum of the City of New York

I appreciate your patience (and thoughtful emails), Dear Reader, during my absence, and I look forward to picking this up again.

Thank you,

Reggie

I'm Afraid I Lost Rather a Lot of Comments

Dear Readers,

As many of you may know, Blogger had some technical challenges in the past week, and was from time to time down for the count.  An unfortunate consequence of that was a number of the comments you left here on Reggie either never saw the light of day, or disappeared after I posted them, never to return.

I am unhappily aware that I lost at least six comments on my essay about lilacs, and that many—or more—on my story about MD's ashes.  Please understand that it was not I who decided not to post your comments, nor was it I who decided to delete them after they (all too briefly) appeared.  It was, I am afraid, the Blogger Gremlins.

I welcome your comments, Dear Readers, and I am pleased and honored to have them whenever I have the great good fortunate to receive them.

Thank you,

Reggie

What a Week!

Please forgive Reggie for dancing on air.  He's had the most lovely of weeks . . .

It started last Saturday with a house party at Darlington House, where we threw a knock-their-socks-off cocktail party that somehow, and much to my delight, turned into an impromptu, fun-beyond-belief dance party that went on until nearly four in the morning.  On Tuesday Reggie was thrilled to find himself honored to be a guest contributor on New York Social Diary, one of his absolutely most favorite, must-read blogs.  On Thursday he was beside himself with pleasure to be quoted in a story in The New York Times by Christopher Petkanas on Emily Thompson, NewYork's newest florist with the mostest.

The flower arrangement that arrived yesterday

And that very same evening he was thrilled beyond belief to arrive home at his city apartment to find a gift waiting for him of a most gorgeous bouquet of the most fabulous flowers from the guests of honor at our cocktail party, a lovely married couple.  The wife is one of the most celebrated personages on the blogosphere, and Reggie is pleased as punch that both she and her husband have become dear friends.  And on top of that, the flowers were from the atelier of Emily Thompson, the very same florist who was the subject of Christopher Petkanas' story in The New York Times!

Reggie is convinced that it simply doesn't get any better than that.

In fact, he just might faint!

Photograph by Boy Fenwick

Reggie on New York Social Diary Today

Reggie is thrilled and absolutely tickled pink to be featured today on David Patrick Columbia's New York Social Diary, a great honor indeed.  Mr. Columbia enjoyed my recent essay on my "Top Ten (Little) Rules for Keeping It Together" and thought that his many readers just might enjoy reading it, too, and so he has re-posted it today on his weekly "House" feature.

Needless to say, I am over the moon!

New York Social Diary is a daily "must read" of mine, and I encourage you, Dear Reader, to link over to it and read through its many delightful features, particularly if you are not already familiar with it.  But then, Reggie couldn't possibly imagine how any of his readers wouldn't already be familiar with NYSD!

Thank you DPC.

Images courtesy of New York Social Diary

It's Time to Sprinkle Some Stylish Fairy Dust

Reggie recently was the recipient of a Stylish Blogger Award from his friend Lindaraxa, and then again from Acanthus & Acorn, for which he is most grateful and appreciative.  Thank you, ladies.  Considering who else they anointed, Reggie is all a-blush to find himself in such, well, stylish company.

When accepting such an award there are often strings attached to it, for with recognition comes responsibility.  In this case, one is pleasantly requested to sprinkle the award among ten other bloggers whom one considers to be stylish, too, and therefore worthy of such recognition.

But what is one to do when so many of the choices that first spring to one's mind are already taken by one's nominating bloggers, and by others, too?  How many times can one blogger be awarded the same award, I ask?

The answer is that one must accept that many worthy recipients are already spoken for, and one must dig down into one's treasure trove of "must reads" to find, and then appropriately recognize, those who strike a stylish chord and who keep one coming back for more—and who haven't yet been chosen, to the best of one's knowledge, for such celebration.

But first I'm going to play around with the rules a little bit.  To whit:

1. Thank and link back to the person(s) who awarded you—I have done that;
2. Share seven things about yourself—I've already done that before, too, see here;
3. Award ten other bloggers—If I did that my list would be repetitive with others', so I'm only awarding five today;
4. Contact those bloggers and tell them about the award—That's next on my "to do" list;

So what were my criteria for choosing the five stylish bloggers I'm awarding the prize to?  I decided to look beyond the world of those who post about interiors, antiques collecting, high WASP-dom, entertaining, gardening, and trad-land (in other words, Reggie's primary stomping grounds) to come up with my list.  I wanted to find a group that I suspected many of my readers might not be familiar with, even though I've recently added two of them to My Blog List.  Most important, each of the blogs I chose had to have content of sufficient depth, breadth, and originality to merit such an award, and whose authors had something to say and a point of view.

Interestingly, all five bloggers I selected are—I believe—gay men, and who often, although not exclusively by any means, explore subjects of heightened interest to such, uh, fellows.  But that is, I believe, coincidental.  What is not coincidental is that each of the bloggers chosen are what I consider to be stylish ones, and whose blogs are full of wonderful pictures, thought-provoking content, and well-written prose.

And so here they are, in strict alphabetical order:

1. Hibernian Homme is a stylish young man whose blog regularly features the works of English writers and artists (and a lot more) of the interwar years, and who is moving to Milan from New England in just a few weeks.  Reggie looks forward to following his journey there;
2. Red Mug, Blue Linen presents luscious photography, often of young men (and some of which is at times a bit racy, so be forewarned), along with lyrically beautiful prose and poetry that keeps Reggie returning—even though he admits there are times that he is not absolutely sure he entirely understands what the author is writing about;
3. Stirred, Straight Up, with a Twist drolly features amusing (and sometimes rather wicked) photographs of stars of the stage and screen of days gone by, frequently accompanied by hilarious, information-packed reporting by its stylish author on the subject at hand;
4. The Haunted Lamp showcases an eclectic mix of images of vintage objects and paraphernalia—much of it owned by the stylish young man who writes the blog, photographs of lost mid-century retail and theatrical architecture and interiors, and antique postcards and other ephemera;
5. We could grow up together is the stylish output of a young fashion photographer that gorgeously chronicles his life and work traveling all over the world in pursuit of his very stylish profession;

And there you have it.  These are the five stylish bloggers that I consider to be worthy additions to the Stylish Blogger pantheon, and which I have not (yet) seen on others' lists for this award.  I would like to bring them to your attention, Dear Reader, as meriting your very stylish consideration.

Image of the always stylish Tinker Bell courtesy of Walt Disney Entertainment

Thank You, Ladies

Reggie and Pompey are beside themselves with pleasure to be the subjects of two posts currently gracing the blogosphere, one by the inestimable Little Augury and the other by Ulla of Model's Own.

Little Augury is a blog that I follow daily, and she is one of the most fascinating and thought-provoking bloggers covering the worlds of design, fashion, art, and beauty that I am aware of.   To be anointed by Little Augury as one of her "Favorite Posts" of 2010 is an honor indeed.

Ulla, of Model's Own, is a delightful presence in the blogosphere, where she shares with her lucky readers a window into her world of high fashion and supreme elegance.  I look forward to opening her posts whenever she graces us with a new one.  Pompey is absolutely thrilled that she adores him, and he looks forward to giving her a kiss when he is lucky enough to meet her one day.

I urge you, Dear Reader, to click on the links to each of their blogs, above.  For, if you haven't come across these ladies yet, Reggie is sure that you will immediately add them to your list of daily "must reads," joining Reggie and their many other fortunate followers.

Thank you, Little Augury and Ulla of Model's Own.

Photograph by Boy Fenwick

Reggie Darling: A First-Anniversary Thank You

Today marks the first anniversary of this blog.  And so I use it as an opportunity to look back and thank those who have encouraged me along the way, many of whom have blogs that have become a daily "must read" for me, and whose comments on Reggie Darling are a meaningful contribution to the pleasure I derive from writing it.  I had no idea when starting out one year ago that I was launching myself into a medium that would provide me with access to such an interesting community of like-minded fellow travelers as I have found.  It is appropriate at this point for me to pause and give thanks where it is most deservedly due.

The following people were especially kind to me as I was first starting out in the blogosphere, and I will be forever grateful and thankful for their support:

• The Blushing Hostess, also known as Catherine Coughlin, who graciously asked me to guest post on her marvelous blog before I had begun Reggie Darling, but after I had become a regular commenter on others', including hers;
• Diane Dorrans Saeks of The Style Saloniste, who encouraged me to start a blog after we exchanged a series of amusing emails on various subjects, and who has championed me ever since;
• Mrs. Blandings, also known as Patricia Shackelford, who featured Reggie Darling on her own heavily visited blog just as I was starting out; and
• Emily Evans Eerdmans, who asked me to guest post on her eponymously named blog shortly after I had begun Reggie Darling, and whom I have since had the pleasure of coming to know.

Once Reggie Darling was up and running, and as I developed my blogging sea legs, I came across a handful of bloggers who I have enjoyed communicating with, and then meeting in person, often over a delightful and conversation-filled meal or two:

• Little Augury, one of the most prolific, creative, and interesting bloggers I know, and who graciously bestowed upon Reggie two blogging awards;
• Aesthete's Lament, the greatest of them all, who encouraged Reggie and whose contributions to the blogosphere are a lofty beacon for us all to follow;
• Privilege, a fellow traveler on the parkway of High WASP-dom, and with whom Reggie traded guest posts about attending our Ivy League colleges' 25th reunions;
• The Blue Remembered Hills, an English expatriot living in Atlanta whose fascinating series of posts on near-forgotten men decorators is worthy of a book, which Reggie hopes Blue will have published one day;
• Maxminimus, an hilariously funny Southern gentleman and sartorial dandy, whose ramblings regularly bring tears to Reggie's eyes, usually of laughter but also, at times, of recognition; and 
• Lindaraxa's Garden, the recipe-rich blog of Julieta Cadenas, a former New Yorker now living in Georgia, who doesn't miss a trick.

In addition to these bloggers there are a number of others I look forward to reading whenever they post, whose comments I am particularly pleased to see whenever they appear in my inbox, and whom I hope meet one day:

• The Down East Dilettante, a Maine-based antiques dealer whose well-researched essays on New England architecture and the people who built it are always richly informative and often wildly amusing;
• Rose C'est La Vie, a talented English artist whose musings on domesticity, family, and service to her country are a pleasure to read, and at times verge on poetry;
• The Corinthian Column, an aesthete who divides his time between Thailand and Scotland, and whose escapades in the world of auctions are much fun to follow;
• Edith Hope, a dedicated English plantswoman with a dry sense of humor who divides her time between her native land and Hungary; and 
• Architect Design, a residential architect based in Washington, D.C., who was the first person to leave a comment on Reggie Darling one year ago, for which Reggie will always be grateful. 

There are a number of regular commenters on Reggie Darling who do not have blogs (yet), but whose bylines alone are sufficient to excite Reggie's interest, for he knows that what they have to say is going to be worth noting.  He would like to thank each of the following:

• Magnus, a true connoisseur of design and social history, and now a friend;
• Magnaverde, whose stories from the trenches are hilarious and right on point;
• Toby Worthington, who has a remarkable eye for detail and the knowledge to back it up;
• The Ancient, who lets Reggie have it when he gets too big for his britches; and
• My darling siblings Camilla, Frecky, and Hermione Darling, who help me fill in the gaps and details in my stories about our family when I have less than a complete memory of them.

And then, of course, I must thank my partner on Reggie Darling and in life, Boy Fenwick, who takes most of the photographs that appear on this blog, is the inspiration for many of the posts on it, edits my scribbles to make them grammatical, and who puts up with my spending most of my waking hours hunched over my laptop, blogging away, when I should be doing other, more productive things.

Reggie is, indeed, a fortunate fellow.

Graphic courtesy of Rifle Paper Co.