Tuesday With Moi

Tuesday, January 15

Out & About

Sunshine, you guys!  There was sunshine yesterday morning!
I prepared my coffee with the sun streaming through the windows and a smile on my face.
I had big plans for my day.

Days with big plans call for a more thoughtful outfit than my usual sweater and leggings combination.  I dug through my accessories box and found this wonderful broach that a former colleague, and friend, gave to me.  I didn't wear it yesterday, but seeing it reminded me of my dear friend John and it made me smile.

After some internet wandering and homemaker-type things, it was time to decide on an outfit.  I almost wore this dress with a black turtleneck and wooly tights (winter white, so chic) but decided on pants trousers last minute instead.

I also decided to be a curly girl for the day.  Something about cold weather and wavy hair just feels right- feels jolly and bouncy and sweet.

Part of what made yesterday a big day was that I was dropping off my resume and applying for a position that I'd quit like to secure.  I won't tell you what it is unless I get it (fingers crossed, people!) but this was the envelope I delivered it in.

After the drop off, I did some shopping (accidentally, of course) and scored some beautiful pieces at Minimaya.  What's that, dear reader?  You want to know what I bought?
Well, I'll tell you.  I purchased two beautiful, locally made leather vests (Mother, you will be so jealous when you see them!) and a fabulously warm black scarf.  I won't even tell you how much I paid because you'll never believe me, the sale was that good.

I continued my wander through town, poking my head in shops and turning down streets I'd never noticed before. 
The sun was setting and the sky was beautiful!

And though it was cold- so cold!- my vintage rabbit fur muff kept me warm.

In the midst of my dinner, I had a terrible realization.
"OH MY GOSH MY RING, IT'S GONE!"
No, not that ring, thank goodness, but another one.  The simple wire ring that my parents bought on a trip to Australia and had given to me last Christmas had disappeared from my finger.  My ring was somewhere in Tunbridge Wells and I didn't know where!  I immediately turned into Gollum and started searching for the ring.  I turned my bags inside out, I retraced my footsteps, I sent a desperate plea to the people of Twitter to help find my ring, but I knew in my heart that it was lost.  Probably...

After a futile search, I returned home to prepare for my evening out.
I let my new suede vest comfort me in the midst of my loss.
The pockets of the vest reminded me of Bilbo Baggins which in turn made me think of Gollum, then the ring, my loss and my sadness.
Just kidding!  I was actually quite happy.

After walking back through town with my eyes glued to the ground, scanning for a bit of silver, I made it to my eight o'clock meeting with the Tunbridge Wells Writers.
We (because I'm a part of their group now) meet at The Black Pig every other Tuesday.

Over a few drinks we chatted about books and writing, politics and community, ourselves and others.

And it was really, really fun, you guys!

Eventually, our glasses were empty, our crisps were gone and it was time to say goodbye.

 I walked home feeling light and happy, my eyes haphazardly scanning the sidewalk for a shimmer of metal, but there was no ring to be found. 
When I arrived home, I kicked my feet up and told David about my night.  And he told me about his night.  And then we went to bed.


Now, I know you're really concerned about my lost ring, so you'll be delighted to know that I found it!  I remembered trying on a pair of gloves whilst shopping at Minimaya and thought that maybe, just maybe, my ring had fallen off in the finger of the glove.  Lo and behold, I was correct, and this afternoon I skipped down the High Street to retrieve it.  So la-di-da & happily ever after.

As always, you're a gem for reading.  A BIG HUGE PRECIOUS GEM.  And I love you.
xox

On the White Cliffs of Dover

You'd think these Minnesotan bones would be comfortable in the cold, would welcome it, even.  You'd think I'd know to always carry a pair of warm gloves and remember to regularly waterproof my leather boots.  You may assume that a functional coat with roomy pockets would be a go-to in my closet and I'd have a pair of earmuffs somewhere in my house, but no.  No, no, no.  I'm afraid I'm terribly unprepared for this wet and rainy winter.  Luckily, I'm still enough of a Midwesterner to be tough and though the wind blew mightily and the rain came down cold and fast, I still made the trek along the White Cliffs in Dover. 

Call me insane, but prior to our arrival, I assumed the walk along the cliffs would be leisurely, picturesque and enchanting.  I imagined David and I walking arm-in-arm under our red umbrella, pausing to take pictures as gulls called overhead.  I was spot on with the cliffs being picturesque and enchanting, but leisurely our day was not.  My lipstick, springtime brights and freshly done hair didn't prepare me for the mud, sleet, and wind, my ankle boots and pocketless coat did not protect me from the elements.  My coat collar is stained red from the uncountable times it blew into my lips, my hair was matted and torn by the wind (I'm still getting used to this long hair business), and my beautiful H by Hudson boots were almost ruined by the waterlogged earth.  But we survived, dear reader, with raw skin and dirty hands, with muddy feet and dripping wet coats.  We survived!  And we have some nice pictures to prove it.  

After the traipsing and trudging was over and our skin was beginning to warm, we stopped at a pub for a warm meal next to an open fire; a glass of wine was a happy sight, indeed!

A Treasure Hunt

It has come to my attention that I never shared pictures of my marriage ring or, rather, rings, with you.  Here they are, all banged up and well worn, almost one year later.  The bands are silver and the stones are tiny, rough cut black diamonds.  I chose to have two rings because I like the way they move together on my finger, the way it feels symbolic of how two people move together in a relationship- sometimes off-kilter, sometimes aligned.  I cherish my ring, love the way the light dances off the uneven surface of the diamonds, and admire the way the silver shows its wear.  It's a nice ring and I think it suits me perfectly.

Like many women, I was adamant that my ring fulfill some conditions, specifically:

1. The main stone could not be a white diamond. They just don't do it for me, you guys. 
2. It had to cost less than $500.  Marriage may be forever, but my style is not.  Perhaps one day I'll grow tired of this ring and will find something more suited to my evolved taste.  Perhaps I'll have a collection of fabulous marriage rings that I interchange and match to my outfits? Maybe I'll become a millionaire and wear a jeweled glove, instead.  Who knows!
3. It had to be made by a local designer.  Because I'm passionate about supporting local artisans and wanted something handmade and beautiful. Boston jewelry designer Michele Mercaldo suited my needs perfectly. 

Now that almost a year has passed since our nuptial soirée, I'd like to find an awesome local designer to make me a pair of earrings to match.  Something small and simple, something rough and elegant.   Let the treasure hunt begin!

I feel like everyone I know is getting engaged, or is soon to be engaged, so tell me, dear reader, what are your ring requirements?  How did you decide on your ring and have you ever fallen out of love with it?

Stuck in the Web

Welcome back to my weekly web round-up where I show you mine and you show me yours- but only if you want to, of course.  Cool?  Cool!  Let's begin:

Are any of you watching Mr. Selfridge, the new iTV period drama about that crazy American, Mr. Selfridge, who came to London and told everyone what's-what whilst opening the very best department store in the history of mankind?  Well, I sure am!  Even despite the fact that Jeremy Piven has an overabundance of pazazz and the bravado of his performance seems to suggest that he thinks he's performing onstage rather than on television, I'm still going to tune in Sunday for episode two.  Mr. Selfridge's blind enthusiasm reminds me so much of how my own grandiose plans were met with many a dull stare and curt shake of the head when I first moved here, so obviously I can't wait to see how the story plays out.  Plus, the styling is excellent.  Who knew 1908 was so chic?

Did you know that Dita Von Teese has a taxidermy Ostrich in her house?  Honestly, I'm obsessed.    She is such a lady, she makes me want to buy hot rollers and substitute saying "nail polish" with "nail varnish."  Le sigh... Her entire interview with Into the Gloss is totally worth a read if you're at all interested in fabulosity (which, of course, you are), and the pictures of her home are lovely.

I love this portrait of Anthony Bourdain by David Choe.  It has great energy and poise, and I keep enlarging Bourdain's twitter picture to look at it again.  It makes me wonder, if you could have anyone paint your portrait, who would it be? 

My friend Brent sent me this funny tumblr of Lady Edith with Googly Eyes.  Oh, Edith!  Bless.


Kathleen recently shared an update about her six months in the same jeans challenge and it has made me even more keen to get my hands on (and legs into) a pair of raw denim all my own.  David loves his Nudie Jeans, but I'd love to know if anyone else has any brands they recommend.  Have you ever worn raw denim?  How did you like it?

And lastly: I maybe vomited this morning in the middle (well, the end, because I stopped immediately after it happened) of a jog sidewalk flop.  Not hot.  Because I never ever ever want that to happen again, I've been looking into tips for beginner runners and was curious if you had any nuggets of wisdom to share, too.  Even if it's roll-your-eyes obvious, I'd love to know how you found your pace, kept your breathing consistent, and finally achieved that illusive runner's high.

xx

Photo via (edits by me)

Tuesday With Moi

Tuesday, January 8

Simple & Simply Spectacular

 David drew this.  It's a picture of Jim.  Remember Jim?  I think it's pretty neat.

Around Christmas, I decided that, going forward, I want to be a little more like Lucy Liu and a lot less like Drunk Kate. This means more tea, less red wine, and regular(ish) exercise.  To address the latter, I've started running trotting around outside in my sneakers and spandex leggings a couple times a week.

I told David's son, Tom, that I have a goal to be able to run five miles without stopping by the end of the year and he was like, "Oh, that's easy, you'll be able to do that in no time."  Friends, it is not easy and don't try to convince me otherwise until you've me run gallop about.  After a half hour of trying to control my breathing as I ran slouched past neighbors on the sidewalk and faking a side cramp so I could walk up the hills, I arrived home and collapsed on my yoga mat with a glass of water.  A much more thorough post about my "exercise regime" will come soon (I have so many thoughts and questions on the subject), but until then, you can feel my agony emanate from this 11 o'clock photo.

The sun came out for, like, two seconds.  All of South East England rejoiced.

Whilst shopping in my closet, I found these earrings that my mother gave to me many moons ago.  Cute, non?

 I enjoyed a delicious flat white and falafel sandwich at my favorite local independent, Black Dog Cafe.  Funnily, it shares a name with my favorite Minnesota coffee shop, Black Dog in St. Paul.  Fate?  I think so.

This bad boy lives next door to the art store where I buy lino and a plethora of other artsy things that I keep in my Ariel Cave of a studio.  I love this lion.  I want to buy it and paint it neon pink and keep it in my entryway one day when I have an entryway.  If I can't have a neon pink lion, I want a taxidermy zebra.  One or the other; I will not settle for neither.

 Back at home, I rummaged for a snack but only found an apple.  It was a very pretty apple, I think.

I keep my lino on the heater so it will be soft and easier to cut. 
This is what it looks like from the back.

Exercise makes me ferociously hungry.  David made this for dinner.  It was delicious!

After dinner, we turned on Jamie Cullum's radio show and worked on our own personal projects as it played in the background.  This is something I doodled in my sketchbook as an idea for something bigger.
More on this another time, perhaps.

David is the real capital a Artist in the household.  This is the beginning of a portrait sketch he's working on.  I love that he's exploring his creativity again, after years (decades!) of inactivity.  I think it's brave and inspiring.

After many glasses of water, I finally decided I was hydrated enough to enjoy a glass of Jameson.  I also decided to cap the camera for the night and spare you the pictures of my laptop keys ond totally adorable socks.  I will have you know, however, that the rest of the evening involved internet rabbit holes, the first episode of Mr. Selfridge, hot cocoa, and kitten cuddles.  It was cute.  

Cute like you.

Thanks for reading!

> Photos & Scene < Dunorlan Park

At first, she didn't want to go.  The sky was grey and the world was waterlogged after weeks of rain.  "It'll be fun," her husband promised as they pulled on wellies and buttoned their coats.  "The dog will love it.  You'll love it."

The park was close and they walked the path around the pond with the dog between them, behind them, then pulling them forward, tugging against the restraint of the lead.  When the dog wandered off the pavement and ran along to investigate a scent, her paws kicked up bits of turf and left small imprints in the mud.  "We'll have to put her in the shower," the wife said.  "The towels will need bleaching again."

The fog was heavy and trees loomed through the mist like ghosts.  "I love how green the world looks against a grey sky," he said, sidestepping a puddle but staying in step with his wife.  "It's like they're glowing almost, illuminated from within.  You can feel the energy of the green."

"The energy of the green," she repeated. She picked a leaf from a nearby plant, traced the veins with her finger and cut through the greenness with her fingernail. 

Halfway around the pond, they stopped at a bench and let the dog off the lead.  Together, they sat in a contented silence and watched; children ran through puddles, their laughter muted by the breeze and the backs of their jackets flecked with bits of mud.   Men cast their fishing lines into the brown water and ducks clambered over one another, fighting for the bits of bread being tossed into the water by two boys on the bridge.  The husband laughed as their dog chased a black and white spaniel around an evergreen and the wife kept an eye on the pit bull that was running laps around its owner in the field on their right.  Inhaling, they could smell the heaviness of mud, the wetness of the leaves and the rubber from their boots.  The greens in the park were vivid- so vivid- and the world felt very much alive around them.

At two-thirty, the husband checked his watch and then called for the dog.  The three of them began their walk home, the dog running here and there, her fur muddy, her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth, her nose wet.  Naturally, they fell into step with one another and, as they walked along the path toward home, they both felt glad.
                                                                                               

Photos taken yesterday at Dunorlan Park.