Week 37 and 38

If April/May was a month full of international travel, May/June is shaping up to be equally exciting as a month of visitors!  We have had a wonderful last 2 weeks of playing Bed and Breakfast (and Barbecue) to some very old and wonderful friends and we now have a couple days respite before the second wave hits.  Between managing little Liam, who was home yet again on holiday (we now have 6 1/2 weeks straight until school dismisses for summer so finally I feel ever so slightly justified since most everyone I know in the states is kicking off endless summer school vacations now...), and maintaining high B&B(&B) standards, I find myself behind on the blogging.  So without further ado:

Before the guests arrived, I found some time to explore the intriguing district of Shoreditch and close-by Spitalfields Market.  A weird mixture of trendy grit and corporate gentrification, Shoreditch did not disappoint my camera’s lens.  Ascending from the train platform, I was immediately greeted by streets lined with spirited graffiti, “vintage” shops and weathered coffee joints, all seemingly settled residents since this neighborhood could remember.  As my eye moved upward along modern glass towers looming over the grunge, however, I had a strange feeling of disorientation at the juxtaposition.  Hipsters walking alongside freshly shaven man boys in suits more expensive than my camera and glorious street food shacks within walking distance of slick sushi chain restaurants made my head spin in confusion.  In my opinion and only based on the couple of hours I spent here, this place has a serious and unfortunate case of identity crisis.  Nonetheless, I enjoyed the explosive visual stimulation as I walked down Brick Lane and through the converted, once derelict buildings of Old Truman Brewery, a case in which gentrification got it right actually.  

I ended my journey with a browse through Spitalfields Traders Market and found myself transported back in time to the days my mom would drag me in and out of antique stores looking for some treasure or another.  At that time, to be blatantly honest, I was bored to tears.  Literally.  At some point, I remember feeling like I could not step foot into one more antique store again or I would absolutely die.  Back then, antiques were old. dank. moldy. dull. boring.  Now . . . . they are (buzz word/ drum roll) “vintage.”  {Although, as an aside, I must say, I do NOT count old, used Converse shoes as “vintage.”  That’s just plain gross.  And smelly.}  Ironically, I could’ve spent all day in Spitalfields Market.  When did that change?!  I must be getting old.  What an incredibly rich and diverse collection from cameras, record players, artwork and yellowed maps in crusty painted frames and antique toys, to furniture, metal enamelware, silver, old tweed jackets and union jack flags, even creepy old doll faces/ parts equally creepily displayed together in an old leather suitcase.  In some stalls, the goods were as beautiful and old as the sweet little ladies selling them.  I managed to drag myself away from it all, only with the promise of lunch at one of those fabulous trailers brimming with soulfood and the restriction of having to carry anything I bought onto the train and on the mile walk to pick up Liam before heading home.  That rusty turquoise vintage bread box was calling my name though, so I will without a doubt be returning . . . to find my treasure.  Maybe this time I’ll be dragging my mom :)

 

And of course, with the entertaining of guests comes the fabulous opportunity to play tourist in my own city alongside some of my most favorite people in this world.  2 of my closest friends from architecture school were in town this past week so going to the top of the Shard was a highlight for all of us . . . even Liam, who was extremely skeptical of going that high into the sky!

 

Love you girls!  Special thanks for coming all this way to see me!!  (And London, of course!)

 

(I call this series below, "Reaching for Spring.")

Week 34

Me, myself, and I had just the most fabulous time this week ambling around Covent Garden and the surrounding pedestrian avenues for the first time.  I had walked near it on a Saturday a while back with Keegan and Liam, stopping in a men’s clothing shop on the edge of it, but by the time we reappeared, I had no desire to engage in the endless crowds of tourists that were starting to swarm.  A Thursday late morning arrival of 10 a.m. proved to be a much better alternative.  There was a quiet, calm before the storm feel as the glorious spring sunshine began to stream through the glass roof of the market and greet pre-coffee-ied jet-lagged visitors seated at outdoor cafes desperate for some warmth and espresso.  My nose and tummy begged to join them, but I trod on, camera beckoning me to get some work done first.  I made a full loop, taking my time to soak up the atmosphere of local artists busily setting up stands to sell their work, cupcake stores going to great pains to lay the fancy treats out just so, and street food vendors firing up their grills.  My walkabout coincided with the Thursday “Real Food Market.”  I made about 5 laps around those 10 stands (the owners were starting to look at me funny after about the third lap without a purchase) all in the name of photography really, but secretly I was making great plans for the lunch I would later devour as I sat on the cobblestone square, people watching and absorbing every ounce of those ultraviolet rays.  As the lunch crowds started to descend, school groups filtered in, and the tourists' caffeine started to kick in, I quickly packed up to go. I came home with a tummy full of an organic beef burger with local stilton cheese, a few mini cupcakes (for Liam, of course), a painting by a local artist, and a newfound appreciation for this lovely little pocket of the city.  In fact, we are returning there this evening for dinner and a pint actually!  Cheers.

Week 20

So, the thing about winter I had conveniently forgotten not having experienced a true winter in a long time, is that it just keeps going.  And going.  And going.  It starts inconspicuously enough.  One weekend you’re in shorts, the next in jeans, but you don’t really mind because those jeans look pretty good.  Occasionally the spring jacket comes out as the sunlight slowly diminishes.  The anticipation of Christmas is a welcome distraction and then, all of the sudden, you can’t remember the last time you wore short sleeves and your tank tops are buried in the drawers beneath new sweaters.  New Year’s passes, resolutions quickly forgotten, and the dark days are dismal.  But, the snow comes next and for a moment, it’s bright and fun and exciting and beautiful.  The dark days don’t matter because you have a new red sled full of four year old giggles.  Then it’s gone. Just like that.  The snow turns to dirty sludge and leaves a thick layer of dried mud on everything, including your new coat.  The sparkle of snowflakes on the branches, on your soul even, gone.  But winter?  No.  It’s still here.  Hovering.  Like an unwanted houseguest.  In your favorite chair.  Settling in, oh so comfortably.  Living abroad has been a learning experience on so many levels, but perhaps the lesson most pertinent this week is living with winter.  And so, I will say a few words about Winter Gear.   

Winter Gear Lesson #1:  Wool pea coats from the Gap don’t cut it.  Recently, I searched for the perfect winter coat to replace that very pea coat I had owned for four years.  I was determined to find something very warm, but also unique.  When I looked , the only thing I saw women wearing around here were pea coats and black down parkas.  Well, after a few weeks of precursory glancing and then a couple of hours of intensely searching January sales on Oxford Street, I finally decided that the ridiculously poofy down parka was, in fact, for me.  Because the one I selected was tan in color, or champagne as I like to call it, and the black belt gave it . . . well, not exactly a pear shape, more of a swollen eggplant shape really, rather than a pumpkin shape I feared, it was different enough for me.  Seriously though, there is a reason why everyone is wearing this coat.  It is damn warm.  

Winter Gear Lesson #2:  I didn’t stop there.  Oh no.  In the same outing I purchased a down vest, because well, I’ve always wanted one.  And if you can’t go for a hike in the muddy Heath without a down vest, where can you really?  

Winter Gear Lesson #3:  Long underwear is an absolute must.  Multiple pairs.  However, tights underneath long underwear, underneath a pair of jeans is NOT a good idea when running after Liam to school.  Chafing . . . . . well . . . . I will leave it at that.

Winter Gear Lesson #4:  Somehow, wrapping a wool scarf around my neck is cozy and wonderful.  On the other hand, wearing wool socks inside a pair of boots is like putting your foot inside a red ant hill.  Perhaps it has something to do with the fact I bought the lovely scarf in Edinburgh and the socks from Gap.  Which brings me to:

Winter Gear Lesson #5:  Truly, the more money you throw at Winter Gear, the better.  Typically this is not my mantra.  In this case, it’s true.

Winter Gear Lesson #6:  Wellies in snow are not warm.  Wellies are also not good for any amount of walking farther than to the grocery store and back.  My feet were bloody after the week of snow we had.

Winter Gear Lesson #7:  I literally have six different kinds of “therapuetic” lotion designed for very dry and irritated skin, including one of Norwegian Formula and 5 tubes of chapstick strategically placed in coat pockets, purses, camera bags, and back packs.  None of this matters.  My fingertips are still completely cracked wide open and lips still chapped.  Come on, Norway.  I expect more.

Winter Gear Lesson #8:  The good news is I never need to worry about bringing Liam perishable snacks because they stay perfectly chilled in my backpack.  And, no need for a wine fridge.  Our constant Flat temperature of f-ing freezing (that's in degrees celsius, if you're wondering) just happens to be the perfect temperature for wine.

Winter Gear Lesson #9:  Art, curtains, and accessories do not a home make.  A floor heater . . . now that’s the secret ingredient....not to mention it doubles as a warm little stool, because frankly in my flat, you'll pretty much need to sit on it.

Winter Gear Lesson #10:  When the 50 degree, rainy weather does finally return, it almost, almost feels like a balmy, Hawaiian day.  Sort of.  If you're trying to end the blog post on a positive note anyway.

Lots of indoor photos this week.  If you were wondering what day it is here, just check the knickers :)  This is the way we roll on Fridays.

We bought Liam a bike this weekend.  The smile on his face was so priceless.  He literally couldn't contain it.  I think it was the most genuinely happy he has been since we got here.  Out of all the things we left behind, his beloved bike is probably the one I felt the most guilty and emotional about.  It was his birthday present when he turned 4.  He rode it everyday.  We would take him to the track on the weekends and he would bust out 2 miles before we knew it just going round and round, as we looked on in complete amazement.  It was such a source of confidence for him and we would always ride with his 2 best little buddies so there was that emotional attachment as well.  It was so good to see him back on it.  We found a used bike here, EXACT same bike as home…same color and everything.  It was fate, no doubt ;)  This folks, is how we will make it through winter!

Love this kid.  Ridiculously messy hair and all.  

Cheers and Happy Winter.