Ephemerology

All Springy, NY

2010-04-05T03:27:00.012+01:00

Landing in NY for a week in spring means: lots of walking, cherry blossoms, blazing sun, temptation to buy stuff, brunch in Brooklyn with friends (brekky quesedilla? Yes please!), good coffee, better pizza, Momofuku pork buns and red velvet cake ice cream with cousin Mieke, 24-hr Apple store, Zabar's, excellent family Easter dinner, post-dinner walk in Central Park to check out the rollerblading fabulists, Purl, the stunning New York Public Library, meeting Samski's good pal, songwriter Paul Evans, walking the Brooklyn Bridge for the sunny-day view, and not a small sense of liberation.

Best cheese toast ever, really.

Hudson River blues, man

Central Park Easter afternoon

Paul Evans, lifelong Manhattanite, hit songwriter and all-round lovely guy, gets his oats.

Steamed pork bun picnic - mmmmmm

Manhattan in our sights

Goodbye, stuff. See you in Portland!

2010-03-19T14:38:00.009Z

"We don't need to buy another thing, ever."

I could only nod numbly in agreement with my man Dan last nite as we finished organising five years of stuff for today's shipment (London to Portland).

The movers arrived at 8:30 am. After a couple of hours, one politely asked if we could switch from Radio 4 to Magic FM. So today's minor chaos has been accompanied by every Hit Of The '80s you can possibly imagine, plus a few more. Top singalong tunes: Fast Car and Who's That Girl (me), Don't You Want Me (mover dude), I Will Always Love You (other mover dude).

Six hours later, and I'm living out of a suitcase – for the next month or so. Then we get a bit of our stuff back via int'l air freight and MoveCube (or whatever it's called that's shifting our New Orleans stuff). Give it 2-3 months and the remainder of the stuff arrives.

So surely it's time for the old George Carlin rant on stuff? Enjoy and be glad you're not the one orchestrating a transatlantic move.

"That's the whole meaning of life, isn't it? Trying to find a place for your stuff!"

Love at first sight...

2009-09-23T10:48:00.003+01:00

...but it would never fit me anyway. Just as well, most of the things in this vintage shop down the street from worky are way overpriced. But it still gave me a little thrill of girly 'ooh!' as I stepped off the bus yesterday morning.

Honesty

2009-07-22T11:06:00.005+01:00

Someone on my street is way too honest.

Springy

2009-05-04T13:48:00.013+01:00

So I think Spring started back around Mothering Sunday, in late March, if this photo on the day in Hampstead is anything to go by.

We were even able to sit comfortably outside Chaiwalla, where Tom, Dan and I took Jacqui for tea.

Excellent chai, second-rate samosas. We ordered two rounds of each (hungry) and I took home two clay cups (allowed). Would def. stop by for the tea again...

But late March really put on a show...

...so much so, I thought this excellent cherry tree deserved a hug.

That same week I spotted interesting houseboats docking along the Thames path where I run at lunchtime, near work...

...plus more amazing spring petalling going on along my walk to the bus.

Now, this was part of a detour I took in Richmond a few days ago. It already felt rather fairytale...

...and then the path abruptly ended at this metal gate. How Secret Garden is that? It turns out to be Petersham Gardens, which is open 11-4 today, as a very prosaic plastic-encased sign told me when I peered thru the bars.

And on the way back, I noticed my New Year's Eve friend 'dipping down to drink' had sprouted a 'fro. There's an incredible amount of green in all shades busting out everywhere - reminds me v much of spring 2005, when we landed in London...

Your video valentine

2009-02-13T19:27:00.005Z

A little ukulele love for you in 'Tonite You Belong to Me' from The Jerk, with Steve Martin and Bernadette Peters. If you hate Steve Martin, you'll really hate this, but I like the dorkiness-to-romance ratio. Dan and I watched the film recently specifically because we'd heard the song and the bit of dialogue afterwards as part of a very innaresting mix by seelunluft.

So Happy Fakey Hallmark Holiday, and big love to all my pals.

PS: Sorry the video's not embedded, that function was disabled.

Baby's first race, next Saturday

2009-02-08T21:06:00.007Z

Got my number in the post on Friday for the Love Run 10k in Battersea park this Valentine's Day, my First Race Ever – not counting the ritual humiliation of elementary school 'fun' days and highschool P.E. Yes, my friends, this one is self-inflicted. I just made it to up to 10k this weekend after a few weeks' gradual training. That's 20 mins and a couple of miles longer than I've been used to doing over the last year or so.

Here's hoping the weather doesn't see fit to have another wintry laugh on us. I didn't get to run for 5 days b/c the sidewalks were still so icy. But especially on the first day, the snowfall made everything seem wondrous...bit like this:

(Click to view larger image)

My, what big berries you have!

2009-01-14T21:25:00.002Z

Brekky at work, with Filofax, laptop, and Momiji doll. Blueberries AND pomegranate on the old Dorset spelt mix. Some days it's easy to make me feel renewed.

Borough Market, below zero

2009-01-11T12:55:00.016Z

L-R, back row:
Organic chamomile tea bought at Konditor & Cook (Stoney St);
Lemon olive oil from Apulia;
Pomegranate and orange blossom vinegar from Arabica Food & Spice Company;
Parsely and li'l potatoes;
Oatcakes.

L-R, front row:
Dr Karg spelt muesli crispbread;
Jerusalem artichokes;
Cherry toms;
Pate Moi field mushroom pate;
Morroccan olives;
A Frenchy salad mix;
M&S coffee & walnut cake.
All veg from various Borough stalls.

I knew it was cold yesterday. My toes went numb the minute we opened the door. But had I known it was 2 degrees below zero, I might not have insisted we trek to Borough Market, which I had a sudden yen to do after catching up with last year's Food issue of the New Yorker. (That's November 24. I'm a little behind. In fact, I have issues from Nov. 2007 I haven't tackled yet, but I've read ones in between.)

The word 'intrepid' came to mind as Dan and I shivered toward the train station, and we kept repeating it to each other all day. It really kept us going. Like, noooo, we don't bundle up and stay on the sofa on days like this. We're intrepid! We go to market! And, um, desperately search out hot drinks. All day.

I couldn't make myself take my gloves off to handle a cameraphone properly, so only the spoils of the day are featured above. I'm not sure which is the bigger coup: finding the pomegranate & orange blossom vinegar (dark, tart intensity + mid-tongue tease of floral citrus), or scoring an M&S walnut & coffee cake for just £2.09. I don't know where we're using the lemon oil but it was just so outtasite in the crouton dip taste test, and I was feeling spendy.

Roast potatoes and Jerusalem artichokes with lemon and sage...

Of course, some of our shoppin' came from more prosaic sources, but the spelt muesli crackers are hard to find outside health-food stores. (Actually we had a nice chat with a lady minding the Sharpham Park spelt stall...they get such minor distribution, and it's bizarre, b/c their product is locally, organically grown but on a commercial scale, and spelt is a rising star of a grain...but it is a bit pricey.)

Result, above: the fragrant potato and Jerusalem artichoke bake from the Ottolenghi cookbook. OMG. Note to self: kalamata olives are better in this dish. The salad leaves included the spiciest rocket yet. Dressed with a spinkle of the new vinegar, they were even quite delectable.

...with egg on top! Everything is better with egg on top. Except dessert.

PS: I found a pdf'd recipe of this gorgeous bake online, but no linky, so here is the cut-n-paste of it. It's vegan an' all (til you put an egg on top).

Roast potatoes and Jerusalem artichokes with lemon and sage

Serves 4 – 6
500g Jersey Royals or other small potatoes
500g Jerusalem artichokes
4 garlic cloves, crushed
50ml olive oil
2 tbsp roughly chopped sage
1 tsp salt
½ tsp black pepper
1 lemon
250g cherry tomatoes
170g Kalamata olives, pitted
2 tbsp roughly chopped flat-leaf parsley

Preheat the oven to 200ºC/Gas 6. Wash the potatoes well; put them in a large saucepan and cover with plenty of salted water. Bring to the boil and simmer for 20 minutes, until semi-cooked. Drain, cool slightly and then cut each potato in half lengthways. Put them in a large roasting tray.

Wash the Jerusalem artichokes, cut them into slices 5mm thick and add to the potatoes. Add the garlic, olive oil, sage, salt and pepper. Mix everything well with your hands and put into the oven.

Meanwhile, thinly slice the lemon and remove the pips. After the vegetables have been roasting for about 30 minutes, add the sliced lemon, stir with a wooden spoon and return to the oven for 20 minutes. Now add the cherry tomatoes and olives, stir well again and cook for a further 15 minutes.

Remove from the oven and stir in some of the chopped parsley. Transfer to a serving dish and garnish with the remaining parsley.

Love-a-ducky

2009-01-11T12:43:00.005Z

I was ridiculously pleased to come across these kiddie treats at M&S on Friday, with their somewhat enviro-friendly felt playthings attached. I bought similar theme chocs around Hallowe'en, but they included decidedly un-viromental glow-in-the-dark plastic toys (tho' it must be admitted they delighted me no less).

These are destined for two little gals in Cincinnati, as were the others. Back in Sept. when I first spotted the Hallowe'en treats I didn't buy them right away, and they were sold out for the next two weeks. Lesson learned...

Small Stylings

2009-01-07T19:43:00.004Z

I'm liking my stripey socks, grey tights, and big black boots combination, born of necessity these freezing mornings...

...especially with the further combination of my layered multi-plaid skirt.

This is the end-of-day variation.

And let's all admire the swell Puff Daddy scarflet my good pal Cara made for my b-day!

Not only is it the height of crafty chic, it keeps my topmost pulse point amazingly toasty.

Wintry

2008-12-31T17:25:00.006Z

New year's eve run

A dusky run that revealed a tree limb masquerading as some sort of many-horned animal dipping down to drink

Boxing Day walk, with a stop for tea by the playground and a grey-filtered view on our way back to the river

New year's day, bathroom ledge (I'm a little hungover)

Typical twilit view from the bedroom, with mysterious purplish office building peeking through

Cake!

2008-12-31T17:12:00.005Z

Here it is: the macadamia-toffee-vanilla cheesecake my man Dan promised and prepared – in three stages, no less – for my b-day. Every part of this massive confection is a treat in itself: the firm but creamy real-vanilla-bean base; the roasty macadamia nut-brittle; the exquisitely fudgy caramel spilling over the sides. Sure, you can have the recipe.

And the presentation on Christmas nite wasn't bad, either. Dan's mum had also made a pavlova (right) in belated celebration of Dan's brother's b-day. After spooning up the two puddings and draining several cups of tea, we were all a bit twitchy.

Your video xmas pressie

2008-12-24T22:03:00.006Z

Quite simply the best Christmas carol ever. My Brit pals will be sick to the teeth of it by now, but many of my US of A compadres may only have a passing acquaintance with it. You can watch the high quality version if you like, too – just be sure to click that option once you get to YouPube.

Not that I'm so cynical about the holidays. It's my birthday tomorrow - 37, nosy rosies - and I'm quite looking forward to it, as Dan is even now putting the finishing touches on my (deep breath) toffee-macadamia-nut-vanilla cheesecake he baked all by hisself. No lie. Pics tomorrow or thereabouts.

Joyeux Noël, dollinks!

I'm in the New York Times!

2008-10-13T18:42:00.005+01:00

Well, I'm quoted in this article, anyway. Right in the beginning, too. Shame they thought I was a guy, based on my name, but still. Thanks to my pal Alicia for the heads-up, b/c I didn't know my email response would be quoted, and I was in Austria on the company weekend holiday when the story was published last Friday.

Shoo, already. Go see!

Go on, make me feel good. I dare you.

2008-08-17T22:26:00.011+01:00

Sunday lunch...

...with Dan.
My weekend reading and knitting chair with ubiquitous cardigan.

Gorgeous chilies and food-grade rose petals...

...whizzed up into harissa (rose and regular batches).

The Teddington Library garden around the corner from work...

...where I can hide during lunch, b/c almost no-one from work bothers with the little liberry.

Coffee on the balcony our first morning in Lisbon, at our fab little hotel, Costta Rooms.

Finding a giant passionflower vine on a walk back from Richmond, and wondering if they really always grow as well here as they do in New Orleans. Then, later, spying one on a run near the river, and feeling reassured it's not a fluke thanks to some fantastic gardener.

Amazing brekky from a weekend a while back.

Yep. that all makes me feel better.

Hello sunshine

2008-07-07T11:38:00.005+01:00

Just a reminder on a grey day of how the light in London can look when it wants to.

Marble Hill Park often makes me stop mid-jog and dig my cameraphone out of its cosy little arm-pocket...

Upmarket Bliss

2008-06-15T23:37:00.008+01:00

Above is my favourite result of a glorious trawl through the Sunday Upmarket and various Brick Lane-area shops two weeks ago. This little number came from The Lazy Ones, and I see from their blog that I lucked into their one-off sample sale (my frock was only £20, about 60% off, woo-hoo!). The material is a sort of crepe...I love the big buttons and grey lace detail.

But before that, we oohed and ahhed over Dan Hillier's altered engravings and came periously close to buying a small woodblock featuring this image, Lovers:

We decided to wait. But we shouldn't wait too long, it's all limited ed. Another close call was a £40 cloche with clever folds in pretty blue-grey felt. (No pic to be found, sadly.) Then there was the world's priciest cat t-shirt, which I always fondle, then drop in disgust at the price. I mean, it's a cool graphic, but really, £25 for a flimsy tee? (I guess I top out at about £17. Maybe it's the dollar-conversion that gets to me.) Still, may give in sometime b/c it always makes me laugh.

One thing we didn't hold back on was the excellent vittles to be had at the market! I think the veg pattie below is the best market food I've ever had, and that's saying sumpin'. The main bulk of the pattie was shredded cabbage, with some juicy sweetcorn kernels thrown in. I don't know what the cheese was, but it was very mild and soft. The seaweed flakes entered into some kind of foodie chemical reaction with the yummilicious mayo to give it all a smoky, silky taste. That half-eaten parcel upper left is the other offering from same stall, a sort of sesame rice cake that was very sticky and not terribly tasty - just a hint of sesame going on - but good filler.

You can kind of see the pattie ingredients and a hardworking prep guy below. I would beeline for this stall next time too, it's a welcome alternative to all the wraps and pastry-packaged stuff that dominates the scene. (I love me some oh-so-tasty pastry, but I try to limit wheat intake b/c more than, say, a bagel's worth a day and I get a tight, poky tummy for hours. No fun.)

Saying that, I think Dan chose a very decent plate as well, from the Rainforest Salad operation next to the stall of Japanese vegetarian delights. The orangey couscous was v spicy and interesting - my fork kept travelling over that way...

Could not resist a passionfruit panna cotta from a Brazilian stall...tangy, soothing and refreshing.

The day was gloriously sunny, Dan scored a parking spot just a block from the market (unheard of), and I only wish we'd mobilised a little sooner in the day to take in more of it all.

Button Bright

2008-06-08T11:30:00.005+01:00

Vintage buttons sewn onto old cards. If ever there was something that makes me itch to part with my hard-earned cash...at least I restricted myself to these, because at one point I had £40 worth in my hands! Twee local shop Parici is responsible.

The black concave discs on either end are competing for the honour of fastening my current project, the Buttony jumper/cardi (thanx to Kittee for the knitalong idea). Those delicate moonstoney ones have the slightest whisper of a ridge to them and a striated pearliness I couldn't quite capture. The remaining black buttons brought gothic, cobwebby shawls to mind.

I hate to put them away...

PS: Does Button Bright ring a bell? Think Oz books...

A Hint from Heloise: Smoothy ribbons

2008-06-08T11:06:00.005+01:00

Okay. So you need to wrap a fancy gift, and, being the savvy collector of gift-wrap fixings that you are, you confidently plunder your stash instead of running out to the store. (Stick with me, this is based on a true story.)

You're especially certain you have a nice silky ribbon to give your offering that special sumpin' sumpin'. But what's this? All your long, silky, perfectly appropriate ribbons are wrinkly (and obviously being re-used since the deepest wrinkles are located at strategic tying points).

Now. You have no time to run out to aforementioned store. (It's closed, anyway.) You either use what you have, or go without. But you can't go without. Your reputation is at stake. People know you do nice wrapping. And this is a wedding gift. You gotta have the bow!

That's when you spy with your little eye...the perfect tool.

Who among us does not have, deep down in the back of a bathroom closet if not right at hand, a straightening or curling iron? You all but do a little dance of joy and inspiration, complete with handclaps.

You'd briefly considered ironing the ribbon, but the thought of dragging out the icky-foam ironing board and sputtering domestic appliance gave you the willies. But the hair iron! Oh baby. How easy is that?

You put it on the lowest setting. You figure, if it burns the ribbon, no matter - you were about to go without, anyway. You press down and slide it through...then again...maybe once more...

And voila! A silky-smoothy ribbon is reborn. Sling it on, sista, and hold your head up high: a crisis of gift-givin' etiquette has been narrowly averted. Til next time...

PS: Remember the smoo?

Potato buddies?

2008-05-17T12:13:00.005+01:00

Two carefully placed potatoes nestled at the base of a tree near the river. Enh?

Is this part of some Wiccan ritual? That's my best guess after coming upon this strange little twosome at the end of a good run (first really good one I've had since getting back on track after a three-week cold/flu/misery). They don't look like they fell out of a bag, they were definitely arranged this way.

Maybe some kids happened to have two nice Maris Pipers on them and thought, 'Hey, let's give the tree some balls, henh-henh!' (My second-best guess, but since when are spuds the must-have accessory for today's randy teen?)

Just another reason why it's fun to have a decent cameraphone...

Cherry, cherry...she got the way to move me, yeh

2008-04-12T23:41:00.014+01:00

Never mind that on Good Friday when we were in town, it rained, sleeted, and hailed in between sunbursts - at Minamoto Kitchoan, my favourite gourmet Japanese sweetshop, it was spring, and that means seasonal cherry sweets.

As gorgeous as the jellied ones were, I thought they'd be a letdown - cherries in gelatine? enh. - so I chose some other cherry-flavoured confection, only to be told I was pointing at an expertly modelled display fake, and the guy who had swaggered up in front of me had bought the last two. Hmph. So I nosed around a little more...oh, no, don't make me browse the artisanal imported sweets, anything but that...

...and I finally settled on the Hakuun-no-Hotori: milky flavored white bean paste wrapped in Japanese cake. Somehow I exercised the self-control to keep them til Easter Sunday for us to have with tea while watching The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency debut on telly.

They were luxurious and vanilla-sweet, executing a soft, smooth crumble on the tongue. Not a dipping kind of sweet, but excellent with tea. I would have liked another, but they were pricey.

Also caught up with lechatlunatique for mezze and craft- and girltalk that day, and she later led me to Lovejoys, a gem of a bookstore that sells bargain editions of literary classics, cookbooks, obscure old flms on dvd, and other assorted goodies. Thing is, it has a dirty bottom (porn in the basement), which accounts for the name, I s'pose. I could not resist The Golden Bough (abridged) for £3. How could anyone?

I reunited with Dan for the Minamoto expedition, then we headed to the Mayfair Curzon to see Love in the Time of Cholera. Nope, not linking to it, because it was bloody awful! It's my favourite Gabriel Garcia-Marquez novel, and I didn't even recognise the story on the screen.

I knew we were in trouble from the first word, as it was in English. And sure enough, it's an American production. Doomed from the get-go, with vertiginous plot-hopping and total lack of grace. Except...well, maybe except....Javier Bardem as Florentino was outstanding. But one well-cast actor does not a good film make. Not even a passable one.

Eek! The giant papaya!

2008-04-06T16:50:00.012+01:00

Being from New Orleans, I was stopped cold by the word Formosa, which I've only ever heard in association with termites. Formosan termites can eat through a whole house in very short order, and the Southern US is badly afflicted with 'em; you really really really hope your house doesn't get them, and you shell out many a dollar for a comprehensive prevention contract...

But. That has nothing to do with this hefty hula gal of a tropical fruit.

It was perfectly ripe: soft but not mushy, intensely fragrant, and generous in quanitity - it may have cost £2.99, but it yielded at least four normal fruits' worth. O heavenly cereal topping! O delectable yoghurt mixer! Not to mention, sensational scoop-straight-from-the-bowl snack. Dan and I had some right away with an improvised lunch of Dr. Karg spelt emmenthal cheese and pumpkin seed crackers spread with leftover black bnz. I added this little find below...

Yes, I fell for the packaging. Especially since you could choose from three goats: Flo, Ethel and Eva. Flo was a little too naive and relaxed for me; Eva struck me as somewhat vainglorious. But Ethel, with her skeptical, flat-eared tilt of the head struck me as the conscientious kind of gal goat I could trust to make me a fine bit o' cheese. And anyway, I'm a Capricorn.

I was not disappointed. The little round of goodness was crumbly in the middle, gooey near the rind, and oh-so-goaty with a touch of tang, just like chevre should be. Paired with my fine-tuned herby black bnz on the crackers, it was a divine little number for lunch.

When I snapped the pic above, Dan suggested, rather uncharitably, that I keep the camera poised for my next bowel movement as well, since surely my gentle readers for whom I was capturing every phase of Saturday lunch would like to know the 'end result'. But he doesn't even like the goaty goodness of chevre, so how can we possibly trust his observations? Indeed, we cannot.

Ivywood Productions, doll

2008-04-05T14:10:00.007+01:00

And now for a word from our sponsors.

Okay, Ivywood Productions is not an official sponsor of my ephemeral endeavours, but I'd be popping buttons with pride if it were. Ivywood is the newly launched website of Sam Szczepanski - friend, cosmic advisor, music industry maven and back-catalogue consultant extraordinaire. The site itself is a treat; the inspirations are a must-see, with vintage Hollywood glam delivered beautifully through Sam's inimitable exposition and visual style.

To carry on with our sponsorship theme just a moment longer, you can also see some of Dan's work in the Ivywood gallery - Eddie Cochran, Diana Dors, and The Lewis Three are recent projects he completed in harmonious, tea-fuelled partnership with our Samski.

Finally, I must add that Sam's cv is the most entertaining and compelling I've ever read (click on her name once you arrive to view the pdf). Sure, a music industry career is bound to be more intriguing than most, but I think it's Sam's tiki-tinged panache that makes it such a good read.

Once upon a Saturday...

2008-03-06T08:23:00.012Z

...I was feeling mighty stressed, two weeks of nonstop insanity at work being the main (but not only) culprit. Then, on the relatively unscheduled Saturday that capped the stressfest, the boiler broke. And I fled. I looked up train times, checked shop hours, and swept out the door to Stash, Southwest London's cosiest yarn mecca.

I'd been there once before with lechatlunatique, and while we had a pleasant knit 'n' natter there some months ago, I wasn't hugely motivated to make Stash a regular stop. But I suddenly felt strongly drawn to it, for the easy escape and (if I'm honest) a little retail therapy.

On the walk from Putney train station to the shop, I began craving a coffee, and I couldn't resist the unlikely boast of this Persian deli: 'best coffee in town'. (In my blurry photo there, you can just make it out above the door.) Well, the nice old gent behind the counter made a fine cappucino, but it was the treasure on the shelves that had me swooning:

Food-grade rose petals; whole dried limes for superb stews; lemon salt - have you ever seen lemon salt?? - and sour little barberries for saffron rice. And there was so much more, all of it cheap at the price. While I was paying, I couldn't help but say, 'This is so wonderful.' My counterman nodded, smiling, then asked if I knew how to use the limes...

So I was already feeling my spirits lift as I entered Stash a block or so away, where one chick was engaged in finishing her first sock and the two shop ladies were deciding what to have for lunch. As I settled in, a couple of other ladies arrived, one to work on an intricate lace top, another bursting to tell of her new adventure with rag yarn. It was perfect.

I stayed for at least 3 hours, not quite believing how easy it was to distract myself by asking about their projects, petting fancy wool, and just chatting amiably, not to mention making some progress on the eternal Big Wool jumper. I even found some incredibly soft and not pricey baby llama wool to make a wrap to go with the dress I'm wearing to lechatlunatique's wedding in a couple of weeks. (When I got home I was relieved to find that the indigo colour matched my dress perfectly...I have a good eye for colour, but you never know, if the light is funny...)

And I finally splashed out on Selvedge, a bi-monthly textiles journal I often flip thru but have never allowed myself to have. I think it is now a must. How gorgeous is that image? How could I resist for so long?

And there was more in the way of handcrafted beauty yet to come.

This pastel cupcake and lolly display got me in the door of Mei cafe, but the paninis and salads had me reaching for my wallet.

Unusual goodies like the blackcurrant oat squares and big pistachio meringues made me linger, but I walked out with the maple sweet potato and goat cheese salad to share with Dan as part of dinner. He liked the sweet potats but thought the cheese too goaty. I like goaty. I helped him out with his share of the chevre.

Now, would you believe my super Saturday was not yet finished? I spied a small cemetery next to Stash, which turned out to be the prosaically named Putney Old Burial Ground. Some of the tombs had glorious gothic detail...

That shrouded skull motif was repeated on another panel of the tomb, and alternated with a cherub on the remaining two panels...how ghastly, yet compelling!

This was the most magnificent tomb on the grounds, and certainly rivals the graveyard masonry that we took for granted in New Orleans...

I think the procession of trees cut the grandest figure within the grounds, though...

This one is surely a warrior Ent, with arms upraised, head held proudly, and a bulging hip thrust out...

At first I thought these were just flagstones, and ended up walking on someone's grave...

This is my favourite image of the day. The partially obscured stone slab immediately put me in mind of a ripped page, the green against the grey hums with blue and yellow brilliance, and the path curving behind made me feel oddly hopeful.

Had to have a close-up, for the textures...

Much as I admire all this stonework, the only memorial I want is a bench. Let my figurative resting place be one for others as well, preferably by a river or in a library garden.

I can't say I gained any perma-cheer to erase my daily cynicism, but this one Saturday did me a lot of good and made me feel more myself...good mental prep for our trip to Berlin, which post will have to wait a little while so I can do it justice...

Baby Kimono

2008-03-03T23:11:00.004Z

First project from Mason-Dixon Knitting, a book I resisted for some time, mostly because I already had too many knitting books, magazines, web patterns (one does get a little overwhelmed!).

I really wanted to make this the minute I saw it, and, rather conveniently, a cow-orker I like had a baby girl recently. So I did a little stash raiding and decided this silky red acrylic blend (no label anymore) would more than do. And then I ran out towards the end, so I conveniently decided a contrasting stripe was in order.

The task of finding ribbons put me off, though at first I was looking forward to it. Except for John Lewis, there are no obvious, nearby sources, and even though I did poke around a few ribbon-friendly places, I had to go to 2 JLs before I found the right thing. But I felt really lucky in the end, b/c even though I didn't have the piece with me to match colour, well, it did.

Remains to be seen if it fits, but the recipient's mum was v. pleased. In fact, it was the nicest reaction I've ever had to a piece of gift knitting, which makes me feel slighty guilty as this one was primarily for my own pleasure...

Unlikely but true

2008-02-23T23:02:00.005Z

There is such a thing as a cool anti-drug video:

Trust The Dandy Warhols to manage it.

Dan and I have seen them twice: once in New Orleans a lifetime ago, and just last year in Camden at Electric Ballroom. In N.O., they played House of Blues in the smaller room, The Parish. The place was not packed to capacity, but there were about 250 people. Selling out the main room next door was Cowboy Mouth, a highly annoying jock-rock band with a devoted local following. Unbelievable.

Anyway, the Camden show was good, the Dandys' lush harmonies and insistent marching beats inspiring as much laconic worship as ever, but I think the N.O. show seemed more significant somehow, perhaps because they were playing to an audience that was less likely to find them.

Morning Glory

2008-02-19T11:13:00.000Z

I'm not a morning person. It's really best not to approach (let alone speak) to me before I've had a cup of tea, unless you're bringing me the cup of tea. But one day last week I woke up to find these in full bloom, and it made me scowl somewhat less before my caffeine intake commenced.

I bought these as stems in a plastic pack for £1 - bargain! They were on offer this past Sunday again, but I figured my preserved lemons had had enough of being shunted off to a shelf and wanted their window seat back.

PS: I used the preserved lemon recipe from the excellent Medina Kitchen. It's v. similar to the one I've linked to, with an added convenience: you can add plain water instead of lemon juice.

I don't think so

2008-02-17T16:53:00.004Z

'Spoil Your Mum' with an iron? Anyone who gives their mum an iron for Mother's Day deserves to be smacked with it!

Which reminds me of one of my favourite jokes. Well, it's more of an anecdote...anyway, my old workpal Ray had a friend in the NOPD who told him this one:

Ray's officer friend answered a domestic disturbance call to find a man alone in his living room, bleeding from the head. When asked what had happened, he muttered, 'She hit me with the smoo.'

'She hit you with what?' the officer asked, thinking he'd misheard.

'The smoo, man, the smoo.'

Now the officer was truly puzzled. 'What's a smoo?'

The poor guy looked at the officer like he was stupid. 'You know, man, what you smoo your clothes with!'

PS: The photo focus sucks b/c I had to take it surreptitiously with my phone. I doubt Tesco typically allows photography in-store, and an employee was restocking nearby.

An inconvenient fruit

2008-02-13T22:13:00.005Z

I actually like peeling pomegranate, the same way I like polishing silver (not that I own enough to get bored with the upkeep). They're really cheap right now, so I've been buying them, letting them 'rest' in the fruit bowl for a week or so, then sitting down for a good 10-15 minutes of teasing out the dark ruby seeds. Well worth the effort, esp. when you consider how much it costs to buy a fifth of this amount pre-packaged (crazyfool prices). These were destined to tart up some morning yoghurt (plain), and Nigella's chickpeas with rocket (arugula) and sherry.

Your video valentine

2008-02-13T20:38:00.004Z

I hope you like it. This goes out to my friends, with feelin'.

(And many thanks to Dan for picking out those John Martyn cds last weekend.)

Year of the Rat

2008-02-12T18:17:00.002Z

I missed the actual date of Chinese New Year 2008 (the 7th), but when Dan and I turned onto Lisle Street in Chinatown/Soho last Saturday to pick up some choi sum at Seewoo, I knew my Year o' the Pig was over. 2007 wasn't a particularly lucky year for me, even though I'm a Metal Pig, but I suppose nothing terrible happened, and sometimes that's all you can ask.

So, Year of the Earth Rat. Doesn't sound very auspicious, does it? But apparently, 'Metal element persons enjoy a nurturing year of resources, care and happiness, as Earth is the parent element to Metal'. Dan's a Metal Dog, so hopefully we're in for a cosy time of it in 2008.

Profile of Metal Pig, according to a rather useful site if you're looking for the perfect mate:

'Outspoken and confident, Metal Pigs give 110% for everything they do. They throw themselves into relationships with others completely, sometimes to a fault. These Pigs are headstrong and diligent in the workplace, honest and caring in a relationship and trustworthy with everyone he meets unless given reason not to be. Metal Pigs usually give people more credit than they deserve but when challenged can be a hard nut to crack.'
Uncanny.

Oh, and the choi sum turned out fantastic. In fact, it was the best bit of an mmm-worthy Sunday dinner that included crispy five-spice duck with ho-made plum sauce and jasmine brown rice. I simply boiled the choi sum with slices of ginger in imitation of the delectable greens we get at our favourite Chinese place ever, Won Kei. Love!

PS: Piggy plate pic found here; rather cute rat illustration lives here.

Bosky

2008-02-12T17:37:00.001Z

That's the word that came to mind when I happened upon this small herd of deer (there were 10, total) during a lunchtime run in Bushy Park yesterday, though I soon realised 'musky' was the word I wanted.

I love seeing the deer when I run. Otherwise I'm not so fond of Bushy Park, because large areas of it are unshaded, tufty grassland, difficult to hike through and monotonous in the scenery.

But still, it's a park, and being able to get out for fresh air on a fine workday, away from traffic and shops, is a huge perk of the job location.

The first time I saw deer while running, I was picking my way through a long column of trees and found myself among a big herd that included stags - giant prongs and all! Several of them lifted their heads and stared at me, completely still, until I jogged past. It was most unsettling.

Even more intimidating was the time I and a few gals from the local running club went deep into the park as evening fell, and we suddenly realised we were far too close to a herd during mating season. One stag started roaring - it's like a really angry 'moo'. Then we saw two of them run and lock horns. Breathtaking, but a bit scary. I keep a respectful distance from my deer friends these days.

Why, hello there

2008-02-10T09:29:00.000Z

Why blog? We all know the surface details of our lives are ephemeral: short-lived, and likely to slip from grasp or view at any moment. But if you know me at all, you know that I tend to dwell on things. So this blog is how I plan to reconcile the tension between the dwelling and the letting go.

Plus, like a gazillion other people, I like to take pictures of cool stuff, and it all has to be organised somehow.

PS: The blog's header image is the gorgeous whimsy of Carl Warner (click on Photographics).