Patricia Shackelford, who the blogging world knows as "Mrs. Blandings," lives in Kansas City, Missouri, where she writes from her own very pretty dream house and keeps up with three growing young boys and a husband who we're certain must be as dashing as Cary Grant (really, could we imagine Patricia settling for anything less?). 

Patricia's blog is warm, witty, and personal, and though she sometimes "calls them like she sees them," she always keeps a friendly tone. (I owe her a debt of gratitude for one of her posts aboout a photo and caption that appeared in our magazine–it made me much more aware of how silly and unhelpful captions can be!).

Although this Tulsa native technically no longer lives in "Southern Accents territory," her kind spirit, classic good taste, and exceedingly good manners mean we'll always claim her as one of our own. Below, Patricia's thoughts on gracious living:

Patricia Shackelford, aka Mrs. Blandings, in her beautiful living room. Photo by Patrick Binder.

 I define gracious living as . . . making the most of where you are are, making other people comfortable as often as possible, and finding humor whenever you can.

A tradition I keep that reminds me of my Southern roots . . . eating black-eyed peas on New Year's Day. I didn't know this was a Southern tradition, but a lot of people in Kansas City think I'm crazy when I mention it.

Black-eyed pea salad, courtesy of myrecipes.com, where you can find a number of black-eyed pea recipes, including the traditional New Year's Day Hoppin' John.

The movie sets I'd most like to live in (besides Mr. Blandings Builds His Dream House, of course) . . . are almost always 1940s country houses––Philadelphia Story, Christmas in Connecticut, and Holiday Inn are all favorites.

The key to a successful party is . . . having parties! I think so many people are just terrified to entertain–the house isn't right; they don't think they cook well enough; the children will be unruly–but the more you do it the easier it gets. The point of parties at home is to spend time with friends with no agenda. Do as much as you can in advance, make sure the bar is stocked, relax, and have fun.

We assume that Patricia's dinner parties are a little more low-key (and probably a lot more fun) than the one shown here in the New York apartment of Angier Biddle Dukes before the Gibson Girl Ball. Photo by Alfred Eisenstaedt; courtesy of Life.com.

My no-fail entertaining secret . . . is having my husband cook!

A few good men – all handsome and incredibly talented – who Mrs. Blandings would welcome to her dream dinner party for designers.

If I could ask any designers (past or present) to dinner, I'd invite . . .
Albert Hadley, because his career has been fascinating and he would fill me in on Sister Parish; Van Day Truex and Ruby Ross Wood; the late Roger Banks-Pye, because I love his attention to detail and it sounds like he would have been a heck of a good time at a party; Michael Smith, for obvious reasons; Thomas O'Brien, because I adore his clean aesthetic and he is so darn cute.

We try to instill good manners in our children by . . . having good manners ourselves–with others and with them.

The last time I wanted the etiquette police to make an arrest . . . was following the death of a friend's mother. The woman who ended up coordinating food for the open house organized carry-out and instructed the rest of us to write a check. I really don't think there was one woman who would have rather had the ease over the satisfaction of making food for the family.

photo courtesy of Patricia Shackelford

The most gracious person I've encountered lately . . . I recently visited an exhibit of untrained artists at the Belger Art Center and saw the sculptures of Bill LaCivita for the first time. He creates elegant busts embellished with seashells and I was struck by their classic form enhanced by such an organic element. I posted about his work on Mrs. Blandings and Mr. LaCivita emailed me to say he appreciated my making note of his work. He offered to send me a sculpture, if I wanted one, and did not want me to pay for it but asked that I cover shipping as it can be steep. Of course I wanted one; of course I was willing to pay shipping. I received an email today with an image of the piece he had made for me with the following note: "I have decided instead of your sending me the cost of postage, please donate this amount to your favorite charity, or to the Belger Art Center." Simply lovely.