Antiques, Cakes, and Pleats

Antiques - need  I say more? This past Sunday, after church, the hubs and I had a little adventure in what I'm now referring to as the Hogwarts of antique stores. Seriously, this place looks like a little old mill house from the outside, but when you get inside, the tiny rooms jam-packed with antiquated delights just keep going... and going... and going... and going. And going. After what seemed like the fifth floor of exploring, I turned to head downstairs, only to find that the staircase lead up to yet another floor of treasures. If you're anywhere near me over here in England, Bourne Mill Antiques in Farnham is totally worth a trip. I cannot emphasize that enough. And it's not hoity-toity antiques, either. Once we're moved into our new place, I'm going to be using finds from there to decorate our new abode at every opportunity.

On a completely unrelated note, I've been in the mood to bake things lately. It kind of sucks, because I can't eat what I'm cooking (the woes of the gluten-free life), but I suppose my waistline will thank me. That being said, it didn't stop me from concocting this vanilla cake with tangerine buttercream. If you like dense, moist cake and bright, sweet citrus, you'll probably fall head over heels. I know, I know, where's the recipe... I'll be popping it up on Street Cred as soon as I get a chance.

So yesterday I had to do a little sewing - put a button on Steve's coat, fix the hemline on my mother-in-law's skirt. But once I get into the sewing mood, there's no stopping me. Out came the vintage collection and the alterations began. This pleated teal early-1970's Leslie Fay dress is a favorite, but it needed a few nips and tucks before it was wardrobe ready. I love snatching up old Leslie Fay dresses in thrift stores whenever I can; my grandmother worked in their dressmaking factory, and it makes me wonder if maybe she had a hand in the making some of the dresses in my own collection (as if I needed a reason to have more emotional attachment to my vintage stash).

I'm really itching to go thrifting lately. I still can't get over the lack of true thrift stores in the UK - these charity shops just will not do. I want my massive warehouse of old stuff that I can browse through for hours, seeking out those gems that make it all worthwhile. It's a bit of a downer that I can't enjoy it as much as I used to, but I'm sure to get my fill (and bring an extra suitcase full back) next time I'm in the States.

*Apology for the blurry photos. I only had my phone on me in the antiques shop, and the dim lighting did not help!*

La Tasca

I haven't gone out to eat at a nice restaurant in what seems like ages (that's one of the downsides to being an enthusiastic home cook!)... so when I was treated to a surprise lunch date on Saturday, I couldn't say no. A morning of shopping followed by tapas is now officially the way to my heart.

Steve took me La Tasca in Windsor, and it couldn't have been more perfect. If it had been a little later in the day, I would have loved to explore the sangria and wine menu... but I was perfectly content with the array of dishes we ordered. Some of the stand-out favorites were the braised pork cheeks, and the potato & octopus gratin.

The setting was really perfect for this time of year... a sort of indoor-meets-outdoor venue, set in the old train station. Strategically placed electric heaters made it warm enough to shed our coats and forget that we were technically outside. It's a must if you're in the area for the day, and screams authentic from the menu down to the imported wait staff. We can't wait to go back!

Cozy

This past weekend was just fantastic. Guess what we did!
Nothing.

House all to ourselves, Steve and I sat in front of the fireplace and binge watched Boardwalk Empire. Peace and quiet, no agenda, no ringing phones, nowhere to go. We just spent some much needed quality time with each other... which is something that's hard to come by when you share a home. It's made us even more anxious for my visa process to be complete, so that I can begin to work and we can get our own place.

Doopy had reign of the whole house for the first time, and was so excited to not be confined to the bedroom or upstairs. He basically slept in front of the fireplace in his box all of Saturday and Sunday. That's right - box. He was given a lovely brand new bed when we arrived here, but he wanted nothing to do with it. Then I brought home a big bread box from Costco two weeks ago, and now it's his favorite bed. I give up.

And I did some late day grocery shopping on Friday evening, which led to me finding these gorgeous autumn flowers in the "clearance" bin. £1 for pretty flowers? You had me at hello.

Warm Welcome

I mentioned in my post last week that I was planning to visit a brand new side of my family. This past Saturday morning, we headed out on the road - not without some trademark difficulties along the way, mind you. About 5 minutes into our journey a  light rain began to fall, and when Steve turned on the wipers in the car, the right hand side (driver's side, here) just sort of flipped itself all the way to the right onto the side view mirror and stayed there. So, a ten minute stop in a garage and a quick tightening of a bolt later, we were on our way to Hastings.

Staying with my husband's other grandmother was so wonderful. As soon as you walked into the home, photographs of family old and new made me aware that I was in a love-filled house. The 1920's build house was full of charm and amazing mid-century furniture, and I simply melted at the sea view from the kitchen windows. Sitting at that kitchen table, sifting through albums of black and white photos and hearing stories about the war, displacement, rations, and her late husband, I felt so grateful to have acquired another grandparent.

We took Millie (the dog) for a walk on the beach after her cramped journey in the boot of my mother-in-law's little car; I posted a bunch of photos from that yesterday. The overcast, late afternoon mist made everything look so dreamy, and we were basically the only ones on the entire beach. The tide was out, and we could walk pretty far out into the water without any lapping waves reaching above the knee.

Later that evening, I had my nerves lubricated with a few glasses of wine so that I could meet the rest of my in-laws. We all packed into a van-style cab and headed to an American style steakhouse, whose massive portions really made me feel at home with the pop culture decor. After much eating, drinking, and laughter, we walked through the night to my mother-in-law's sister's house so that everyone could carry on catching up (and meeting me!).

Weekends are meant for laughter, family, and love, and we lived this past weekend to the fullest.

Never Too Far

One of the things I love most about this country is that it doesn't take very long to reach the shore. Drive long enough in any direction, and we seem to end up on a pebbled beach. For someone who loves the sea as much as I do, this is a heavenly convenience. There is no manmade object or place on this earth that can captivate me quite like the seaside. No matter the weather, you can bet I'll be sticking my toes in the surf.

Out & About

 

Friday came and went, and with it passed week 4 of my trans-Atlantic adventure, as well as August itself (!! Seriously, though, where has this past month gone?!)
A sunny drive, a morning in Windsor, little bits and pieces of a week that seemed to simply fly by yesterday. Good news, though! Steve found a [great] job, and the financial stresses can be placed on the backburner for a little while. I'm sitting here waiting for 1:30, so that I can use ESPN Player to watch my beloved Nittany Lions.
WE ARE!!!

Red Bull Air Races

This past weekend, we had the wonderful experience of attending the Red Bull Air Race World Championships, just down the road at Ascot racecourse. Although I'm not really an aircraft aficionado, it was so much fun to watch and some of the demonstrations were extraordinary. The Breitling wing walkers performed - it was, quite literally, people walking and dancing on TOP of flying planes. All in all, a wonderful day (with sunny weather, to boot!) and family and friends.

Making Memories

I'm not ready to say goodbye. I don't think I ever will be. I think the key here, for myself at least, is to keep reminding myself that this is temporary, that nothing is forever, that I'm not going to Mars; I can and will be back. 

Spending this past weekend at a cabin on a lake in a remote part of northeastern Pennsylvania was one of the most memorable weekends I can think of. Despite coming down with some sort of foodborn illness from the Au Bon Pain in Port Authority (won't be eating there again anytime soon), it was a kind of magical weekend that just seemed to cooperate with the whole "goodbye" mentality. Family traveled in to spread well wishes, and the sky put on a show every night at sunset. And, on the last night, we did too - with some fireworks. I'm going to hold these memories close to keep me company, as I get a bit homesick in the months ahead. 

PS- these are just a few iPhone photos; I have plenty more from my camera that I plan to add soon.

Empty

             

I would like to start by apologizing for the tiny photos. I have not been taking my camera out & about lately, and I'm really starting to regret that. Days like this beg for a much more quality shot than my outdated phone can deliver. But, it's always with me, and so when random things like private beach picnics with crazy parrot men happen, it's ready to capture what it can. That being said, back to the photos...

This weekend was 1000% necessary for unwinding purposes, before the mayhem of this week began. In 5 days I'll be walking down the aisle of the church I grew up in, where my parents were married in my hometown. Steve's family all landed yesterday, and the next 72 hours before we head for Pennsylvania are a flurry of tourist activities and delicious meals, without a second of down time. I'm yawning as I write this. So much to do, so little time. It's now a matter of days, not weeks, and I'm beginning to have a fluttering somewhere in my midsection that I can only compare to a 6 year old's anticipation of Christmas morning. 

So Saturday dawned bright and early, and just the pair of us decided that some much needed "us" time was on the cards. Cooler packed, we hopped on our secret little express bus and in twenty minutes had an entire beach to ourselves for a day of picnicking, talking, and cuddling while the clouds passed overhead. 

    

Oh, and there was this guy. That's a live parrot on his head, and a handbag made out of tutus. He posed for photos. He's sort of amazing, and came out of nowhere like a magician, then kept walking on his way.

Finally the clouds rolled in and threatened of rain, and we packed up to head back to reality. And now, it begins!

Too Short

I went home last weekend for my little brother's birthday. And when I say, "little," I mean, my seventeen-year-old brother. Who, though 8 years younger, towers over me and is going to graduate high school and enter the big, scary "real world" in just about a year's time. What a wake up call. I'm sure every parent deals with the realization that their kids are growing up, but for me, now I feel like it's very plain and obvious that I'm not a kid anymore, either. But for the moment's sake, let's all go stomp around in some mud and act like it, because life's too short not to.