Thursday, 30 June 2011

The Ikea/eBay love child

Before I moved here (and even after, I think) I used to joke that our house was going to be "the house Ikea built". Most of our basic furniture pieces are from Ikea. Honestly, if you want to keep it simple and not pay a lot, Ikea is awesome! After we'd gotten the basics, however, I started to feel like things were starting to get really boring around here (uhh decoration-wise, life in Dorridge is thrilling of course). Beyond the basics, Ikea stuff screams "I am from IKEA and about 200 million other people in the world have the exact same thing!" I can't stand it. I think it probably doesn't scream that loud to other people, but I have a weird encyclopedic knowledge of the Ikea products. I'm almost positive I could walk into any random house in the world and tell you exactly which things were from Ikea. Mainly, this leads to me having a good laugh when I look at fancy house magazines and spot Ikea stuff. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is I've turned to eBay to give la casita Dorridge a little pizazz. The main thing about eBay is: you have to know exactly what you're looking for - otherwise you'll type in something like "dresser" and get 18,000 results. Happily for me, I have very specific ideas about these sorts of things.

Yesterday, I was sittin' around the house - as I am wont to do. It was cool (yay!) but incredibly gray. I was reading this article about an eating disorder treatment facility in Denver and was really disturbed by it. I've never had an eating disorder (or even been close) but I find it frightening that a person's mind can be strong enough to do things like that to their body. I think this article affected me more than others I have read on the subject because it went into some details that, while horribly fascinating, seemed unnecessary. I guess that's how you get people's attention. Basically, I had to get out of the house. 

To Ikea I went. No big purchases planned or made, don't worry. I'm starting to freak out about actually having to move again. Where did all this stuff come from?! Talk about frightening. 

Ok back to the retail therapy. 


























I LOVE THESE TOWELS. Last time I was at Ikea I picked up a four-pack for 2 pounds and ever since I've been wondering why I didn't buy more. I think they'd be super cute to use as napkins at a outdoor party or picnic. I can't imagine the scenario in which I'd be having a garden party attended by anyone but myself and three others who couldn't give a damn about cute napkins, but I shall be equally tickled using them to clean the kitchen counters. 



























I also got this whisk and spatula set. Granted I already had a whisk, but this one is SO much cuter. Personally, I've found that cuteness counts when cooking. I think it would really lose its allure if I couldn't equip myself with appealing accoutrements (and that, my friends, is how you rock some assonance up in here). 

I bought an insert for a pillow cover I bought on eBay from this super cool shop Breeze of Anatolia. They are based in Turkey and sell a bunch of different sizes of pillow covers made from fragments of old rugs. They're a nice way to add some color and I'm a sucker for geometric patterns. The prices are good and shipping (even to the US!) is really reasonable. Margann, just so you know, I'm pretty much going to insist you have a couple of these when you get your own apartment. 



























The best part? It doesn't smell weird at all. I was worried about that. There are some serrrrrriously hideous ones sprinkled in amongst the cool ones though so watch out. I'm talking to you Moldovan Florals!!! 







































On the other side of the couch we now have a cool, beat-up, antique pine chest off ebay. For super cheap, obviously. I don't like a lot of rustic things, but one or two does keep it interesting. Jeff and I drove about an hour and a half to pick it up from a guy who lives in the cutest, teensiest stone farmhouse you've ever seen. Also, he lived on a hill and had a view. Hills just don't exist here. While we were driving up the road I actually thought "I don't think I've ever been up a hill in this car". Weird, huh? My precious ottoman spends a lot of time in the corner these days so the dogs have more room to roughhouse - or sleep.




The official reading chair and table. Now I have a place to put my tea.

Also, have you ever seen such dark, shadowy pictures?? This is the kind of cloudy I'm talkin' 'bout. 

Tuesday, 28 June 2011

Cupcakes and sun

Jeff and I went to see Bridesmaids on Saturday night and by the end of the movie I had a raging cupcake craving. I had seen the movie when I was in Seattle earlier this spring so this time through I was able to really fixate on the baking aspect of the whole thing (which, for those of you who haven't seen the movie, is not a major aspect, I just haven't had a good cupcake in a loonnggg time). I had also just seen a really delicious looking recipe for salted caramel cupcakes in a magazine so Sunday was cupcake day (and Monday... and Tuesday... good god when are these things going to be gone already??).

I don't think I've ever made frosting before. Aside from how easy it is, I never realized that it was basically just butter. I mean, it makes sense now obviously (and explains why it is so amazingly good) but having that bowl of frosting in the fridge has been dangerous. I think my body composition is about half butter, half coleslaw at this point.



























Frosting beater. Yum.



























Tea and cupcakes and iPads. And dogs that really wanted cupcakes too.



























I think if Plato could choose to live off any two things it would be cupcakes and beer foam. You should see how perky he gets when Jeff cracks one open.




























I'm not sure which would win though.... beer foam or running water. He can't resist a running hose. I'm not sure if he would ever stop drinking from it so it is up to us to save him from himself.

We've also managed to find a solution to our pigeon problem. A group of about 3 pigeons had staked out our yard and were plowing through about half the bird seed in the feeder per day. It was pretty hilarious to watch them try to perch on the feeders and eat, but it was getting out of hand. Jeff was turning into a crazy person banging on the windows every two seconds to scare them away. Not anymore! We bought these squirrel deterrent things and they seem to work for pigeons too.




I feel kinda bad for them. Especially when they give me this confused sad-face. As far as pigeons go, these ones are pretty cute. They seem to be happy collecting any seed that falls on the ground though so it's working out ok. I still get angry at them sometimes because they like to chase each other away from the seeds. 256 Mill Lane is officially a Bully Free Zone. 

After hot, sunny weather on Sunday, we were treated with disgusting Texas-like weather on Monday: 85 degrees, cloudy, and rainy. I swear I didn't move all day because it was so sticky and oppressive. Would you guys think less of me if I said I watched 3 movies? You would? Well, good thing I TOTALLY DID NOT. I uh... picked weeds and ummm... vacuumed out my horrifically dirty car. So there. 

Ok ok ok, what if two of them were Coen brothers movies?? Good, right? But then I watched "Salt" so that probably cancels out the other two. Alright, let's just stick with No Movies Were Watched. I'm never lazy. 

Friday, 24 June 2011

A couple things

1. My new favorite meal is toasted open face sharp cheddar cheese and coleslaw sandwiches. Omgggg I love coleslaw. Now, I just need someone to call me up and tell me cabbage is the secret to eternal life!! That's the only way I could like it more. Unless I add just a teensy bit more mayo. That wouldn't hurt either.



2. Jeff's new favorite meal (I mean... drink) is from this beer store we found that sells beer, on tap, to go, in jugs. 4 pints of awesome. Every time I look at that jug I can't help but think "How convenient... when you finish all that beer, you can pee in the container! And you won't have to leave the computer ALL NIGHT." Ha. He wishes.




Tuesday, 21 June 2011

This kinda tastes like Italy

I won't say this comes close in any way to replicating what Margann and I had, but on this super-gray-did-the-sun-even-rise day, it tastes prettyyyy good.



























I know, it's like the thickest focaccia you've ever seen. Let's not set the bar too high, people. If you're interested in having the very limits of your patience tested (wait, and waiting, and WAITING for the dough to rise, and then waiting some more - I would definitely have a structured activity planned for this time to avoid getting crazy eyes and eating too many olives and oatmeal raisin cookies [you know, the ones you made yesterday after seeing them at the grocery store and not buying them because you were trying to be healthy and then later realizing you really just had to have some]) this is the recipe I used. I hate rosemary so I left it off, but I added green olives. Ta da!

Monday, 20 June 2011

Flat Margann goes to Europe

This is the thing about traveling in a pair. All the pictures end up being of one person or the other. There are a few options. 1. Ask a stranger to take your picture. First of all, super awkward. Secondly, yeah right like I'm going to give a stranger my camera. 2. Do the thing where one person holds the camera at arms length - basically capturing just your faces and none of the background, which totally misses the point of the picture. I mean, if it's just your faces, you could be anywhere. Also, when you do this sort of picture, particularly in a populated area, you're most obviously The People who were Too Awkward to Ask Someone to Take Their Picture. You also run the risk of someone sniffing out your desperation to have a picture together and offering to take one for you... which goes back to what I said earlier about giving a stranger my camera. At this point, you either have to suck it up and give them your camera or awkwardly refuse (that does seem to be the operative word here. I'm so awkward, you guys.) (to kind person offering to take your picture "It's not you, it's me. I'm awkward and crippled by unfounded suspicions of your motives.") 3. Use the timer function on your camera (only if no one else is around!!). If you're me that means running back and forth A LOT, choking at the last second, and being captured in a series of increasingly awkward positions.

Yeah, so there aren't many pictures of Margann and I together. I took a lot of pictures of her and declined to be photographed more often than not. In the end, when I look through the pictures I can't help but get the feeling that I took a cardboard cutout of Margann all through Italy and France and photographed it. Margann's annoyingly, consistently GOOD smile adds to the effect. Also, I'm convinced that my face is too expressive to be caught in a flattering light in a candid photo.


Ah yes. A picture says a thousand words. This one says "WTF are you doing now. Let's get this show on the road. It's hot and my feet stink so I'd prefer not to stand in the same place for too long."


This one says "Don't mind my and my dirty, stringy hair. I'm just going to spend half of this 5 hour train ride staring at our itinerary and fretting (internally) about whether or not we are indeed on the correct train while Margann watches Gossip Girl and practices her camera-ready smile."


"I WILL NOT regurgitate whatever this disgusting drink is that the guys at the table next to us bought us. Play it cool, Lauren." Seriously, it was soooooo grosss. We didn't want to be rude and not drink it, but, man, it was a struggle. When the wine ran out, we were fighting over the last crust of bread to use as a chaser. I may have somehow convinced Margann that a wilted piece of lettuce leftover from our salad would do the trick. I'm pretty sure that's called being tipsy at 2 in the afternoon. 


"No time for lookin' hot... this gelato is about to melt dammit and I just can't bear to watch."

Well, now I am sorely, sorely tempted to post some bad pics of Margann but that would be mean. Okayyy maybe just one....


Hah. hah. HAH. Margann fell down and the first thing I did was take a picture. Keepin' it real. After this fall it took us about a year to get to our restaurant because she was walking so dang slow. 

Let's get to some Flat Margann now shall we? (If you don't know what this "flat" business is all about - check this out.)


We waited over an hour to get into St. Peter's in Rome and it was totally worth it. It was COOL in there, in multiple ways. I have to mention this, because it really annoyed me at the time and still annoys me: there were so many people wandering around taking pictures with their iPad 2. You came to Europe and the only camera you brought is your freaking iPad???? I just can't get behind that. Those people looked stupid. End of story. 


Oh hey, Margann. How's that audio guide treating you? Pretty well, I guess. We were a bit freaked out by the line to get into the Colosseum. It was definitely a couple hours long. We almost left when we realized there were two ticket lines: one to buy a basic entrance ticket and one to buy an entrance ticket with audio guide (for 5 Euros more, I think). The audio guide line had about 10 people in it. What the heck is up with that?!?! Granted the guide is pretty skimpy on the deets, but paying 5 euros more to skip the line was worth it. 


Okayyy if your cute waiter offers to take your picture YOU LET HIM. That's just the way it is. This is Margann and me eating gelato for dinner on the Piazza Navona. Gelato for a meal was not an infrequent occurrence. I would say we were trying to save money, but this particular gelato cost about as much as your average dinner. 


Chellloooooo cutest picture of Margann ever. We bought this hat off a street vendor for 10 euros. This is basically how it went "I'm going to buy this hat if it costs 10 euros or less. Excuse me vendor person, how much is this hat? 10 euros. OK!" We're American. Haggling is not in our blood. 


Yes, yes Margann. We see you. We see you in your cute hat. We see you in your cute hat.. at one of the biggest equestrian events in Europe (FEI Nations Cup)??? 15 minutes before the Grand Prix?!? Tickets in hand??!?!?? We were walking through the Villa Borghese gardens, eating ice cream, when we stumbled upon this event completely randomly. It was crazy. There was screeching and purchasing of tickets with very little regard for the actual price of the tickets. Margann gave me the lowdown on all the (super famous) riders competing and we were thrilled to see Eric Lamaze (a Canadian) win on his amazing horse Hickstead. 


We also saw a lady with some very see-through white pants, but that's neither here nor there. 


That was Rome. It was sticky and hot, just like Rome is supposed to be. 

We took train to Riomaggiore, one of the Cinque Terre in Italy. It was the nicest place we stayed on the trip and the place we stayed the longest - a happy coincidence. We spent our days eating, hiking between the towns, and praying for it not to rain. In general, the weather was sunny and warm - except for when it poured. 


This is the view from our terrace, which we shared with a young couple from Australia who stayed in the room next to ours. I'm not sure if Australians are just louder and more obnoxious than Americans, but they seemed to outnumber every other kind of tourist. They were everywhere! We liked these particular Aussies though. This was the first time they had ever left Australia and they were on a 2 month around-the-world trip. Their only regret was starting in the US instead of going there toward the end of their trip. Apparently all they did was shop since things were so cheap and now they were having to lug everything they bought across multiple continents. Yeah. I felt really bad for them....right. 










I'm looking up olive focaccia recipes right now... although it probably won't be the same when not eaten on a warm rock mere steps from a beautiful blue sea. It'll still be good though. Doesn't Margann look like an Italian with that scarf? Good work sista. 


Cuteness overload-d-d-d-d. 

So, after thinking the weather in Cinque Terre was bad, we got actual bad weather in Nice (and the rest of the Cote d'Azur). It pains me even now to think of it, because it was SO ANNOYING. We were planning on grabbing some serious beach-time, you know, a general state of "being outdoors", but no, it was pouring rain about 3/4 of the time we were there. Usually, rain does not bother me at all.  However, being in the rain when you don't have a single item of appropriate clothing is not fun. We did have a flimsy umbrella, but it didn't help much when the rain was coming sideways. 

On the first day of pouring rain we went to visit the Villa Kerylos in Beaulieu-sur-Mer (my favorite thing about Beaulieu-sur-Mer is that it was the basis for the fictional town Beaumont-sur-Mer, the setting of "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels", starring one verrryyyy good-looking Steve Martin). It was kinda fun to be in this villa (we were almost the only ones there) perched right on the coast, with the weather going crazy outside. 


It was a good place to hole up for a few hours since the audio-guide was crazy in-depth. Even more detailed than the Colosseum audio guide, which is just wrong. I love historic houses though so I thoroughly enjoyed it. 

We did manage to catch one full-on sunny day which we put to good use with a visit to the Rothschild Villa (also in Beaulieu-sur-Mer) and a few hours on the beach in Antibes. 


The house and gardens were huuuuge and the audio-guide was, again, very detailed. By the end, we practically ran out of there with one thought on our minds: BEACH. We weren't disappointed. Antibes has a great little public beach with delicious food stands. We split a Nutella crepe, freshly fried french fries with ketchup and mayo, and a cheese panini. Then we went for a swim and took a nap. THAT'S HOW EVERY DAY SHOULD HAVE BEEN. I'm still bitter, can you tell?



On our last day, we kept out of the rain with a really, really long lunch at a creperie, finishing with a delicious cappuccino. I was trying to fit in, as one does, but it was not a good idea. I spent the rest of the night bouncing off the walls of our hostel room (yeah, you read that right, hoStel). Man, I cannot drink coffee. I think I freaked Margann out a little bit by how poorly I handled myself. 


And then we went back to Dorridge! We had such a fun time together and are already planning another trip. The most amazing part of this trip was that NOTHING went wrong, ever. With all the planes, trains, and buses we took, I expected to have a minor meltdown at some point, but that never happened.  Turns out Margann and I are the perfect travel partners. We can't wait for Kate to graduate from college so the three of us can go on a trip together. Woohoo! 

PS I'm so tired now. Together we took over a thousand pictures so it took an eternity to pick a few to show you all. And in the middle of it Sascha ate an entire stick of butter that I had out on the counter to soften to make cookies. Bitch. 

PPS Jeff has an actuarial exam on Thursday (well until TODAY he thought it was Friday...good one Jeff) so he has tomorrow and Wednesday off for last minute cramming. I think I might have to duct tape my mouth shut or something to keep from bothering him. Actually, I do need to check on him every so often. I'll say "Are you studying in there?" He'll say "Uhhhhh.... yeahh...." but what he's really "studying" are narrated gameplay videos of Company of Heroes. I completely understand though. His win/loss ratio at the moment is frankly embarrassing. 



Tuesday, 14 June 2011

Owning it

Yeah baby, I made the ugliest pie in the world!!!!!!






























Proof that sometimes, most of the time, I have no idea what I'm doing.

But don't send me your pie-making tips, ok? Number one: I do not respond well to criticism. Number two: I'm going to fully enjoy this thang AS IS.

Monday, 13 June 2011

Jeff passed his driving test!

Jeff never, ever (NEVER) gets nervous for tests, but I think this one had kinda gotten to him. I knew this for a fact when he woke me this morning, completely dressed and ready to go, and whispered "I'm all ready, but my test isn't for an hour and a half" at which point (this was 6.30 AM) he decided to top up his gas tank and drive around until his test at 8. This may come as a shock since he has been driving for nearly 10 years and almost a year, without incident, in the UK. We're allowed to live here for a year without a UK driver's license and as Jeff's one year mark approached (can you believe it?!?) we had a few good laughs at the idea of having to take the test. What a joke, right? Well, that's what we thought until one of Jeff's coworkers strongly suggested that he take a few lessons with a driving instructor. After the first lesson, Jeff realized that he never would have passed the test without them. To me that sounded crazy since obviously Jeff knows how to drive. Anyway, it seems that the UK has some strange driving rules. Like, you can't cross your arms when turning the wheel and whenever you come to a red light you have to put on your parking brake. You also have to put on your parking brake while shifting between drive and reverse to park (or to perform a maneuver called "back around a corner" that Jeff had to do in his test). I'm sure there are other stupid things, but I'm trying to block them out until about 1 week before the test, at which point I will freak out and be really, really, really, really nervous - and, for me, that will be completely normal.

PS Just got the 3rd season of True Blood on iTunes. Oh man, still awesome the 2nd time around. Bad timing though because after being gone for a month I have a ridiculous amount of TV to catch up on. Plus side: watching four episodes of Game of Thrones in a row. YES.

PPS On Saturday night I seriously dreamt all night about the Titanic. Weird, huh? I think my brain was a little frustrated because I don't actually know very much about the Titanic so my dreams were rather lacking in the details. I kept dreaming over and over about the same random facts. The main thing that kept it from being a terrible nightmare was a small change my brain made in the temperature of the water - almost bathtub-like! No hypothermia, thank god. Although I do remember spending many dream-hours trying to reconcile the fact that the water was warm, but the ship was sinking after hitting an iceberg...

I spent some time yesterday reading the Titanic wikipedia page. Unfortunately, that means my next dream about it will DEFINITELY be a nightmare. Scary stuff.

Friday, 10 June 2011

Old news

I've realized that blogging whilst traveling is not my thing. Margann and I were so busy running around all day every day during our trip that by the time I made it back to the hotel the thought of slogging my way through the internets on THE SLOWEST WIRELESS KNOWN TO MAN* was really quite exhausting. Also, these days usually ended with us flopping half-starved into a restaurant at 8pm and ordering wine that disappeared before the actual food arrived... I'm sure I don't need to go into the details of the remarkably um, powerful effects of alcohol on an empty stomach and a travel worn body. Suffice it to say, I was in no right state for blogging.

*Seriously, practically dial-up I swear. I have technology issues or something. That's the only way to explain the fact I could not bear to be parted from my iPhone, iPad, AND MacBook even for the space of a couple weeks (also a testament to the fact that my laptop is in no imminent danger of being replaced by my iPad). Anyway, I'd be trying to open some super important (like, vital) page, willing it to open with the powers of my mind, and think "Hey, while that's loading I'm going to just open a new tab and check out this other super important website...but wait, THE INTERNET ISN'T WORKING!!" That would happen over and over again. It was like I literally couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that I couldn't go on the internet. I guess I have gotten used to fiber optic internet. Yeah, fiber optic in Dorridge. See if you can wrap your head around THAT.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Something terrible happened in Dorridge Park before we left.






























Hey, that's me! Looking so happy! Obviously, the terrible thing has not happened yet. Margann and I are walking, enjoying the beautiful-ness of the park at this time of year. A couple minutes after this we walked through the small patch of forest ahead and came out in a small field (still Dorridge park). This field borders on privately owned land although it really isn't visible because there is a pretty dense hedge between the two. So, we're walking. The same way we've walked a thousand times since we moved here. All of the sudden Sascha disappears inside the hedge. I can hear her messing around but I can't see her and she's never done this before so I'm wondering what the hell is going on. Then, Plato disappears too. What the hell. I call them with my mean voice but they don't respond and at this point I can't even hear them. Dude, give me a break. If there is one thing you should know it is that even though I love the nuts, the nuts know that when mama uses the mean voice You Betta Listen. By this point, they're getting the mean voice up the wazoo and they're not listening and I am PISSED. With a certain measure of dramatic flair (as later described by Margann who thankfully refrained from laughing at the time) I slammed the bag of poo and leash I was holding onto the ground and marched through the hedge (and over the barbed wire fence) into the neighboring field.

The field looks pretty much exactly like the one I just left and I can see a large manor house in the distance. The dogs are running huuuuge circles and figure eights around the field. Normal craziness X 1000000. Off the charts. Sascha is in the lead and Plato is in uncharacteristically hot pursuit, making these sorta fearsome snarling noises. They are completely unaware of my presence (despite all the marching and use of the mean voice and whatnot) which, in addition to pissing me off, is kind of terrifying. Suddenly, I realize that Sascha has something in her mouth, something that Plato very clearly wants to get his own mouth on. I manage to get a little closer. Um yeah, it's a freshly decapitated bunny rabbit. You know, like one of these. Sascha has it by the neck and the body is hanging out of her mouth, bouncing around. There's blood. Little adorable bunny buh-lood dripping from my Sascha's mouth. I think my shrieking must have distracted her for a millisecond because Plato finally caught up and there they are, two feet away from me, playing a disgusting, blood-crazed game of tug. Obviously, they're both too big for me to deal with at the same time so I grab Plato's collar and attempt to strangle knock some sense into him. This proves completely ineffectual and the tug of war doesn't end until Plato manages to RIP THE DAMN LEG OFF and swallow it whole. While he's busy licking the blood from his chops, I grab Sascha by the scruff of her neck. She's gnawing the now headless and footless bunny body and seems to have no interest in relinquishing it. I'm contemplating the horrifying possibility that I may have to somehow wrench her mouth open and pull it out myself (because I am SOOO NOT going to stand there and wait for her to finish eating it) when she comes to her senses and drops it.

I don't have their leashes (Margann is standing on the other side of the hedge with them) so I drag the dogs not so gently by their collars and shove them through the barbed wire fence (oh what's that you say dogs? it isn't as fun going back this way? I'm ever so sorry) where Margann found us - me sweating and shaking and the dogs panting with their big bloody tongues hanging out. And bloody dog lips, whatever those are called.


In hindsight, the idea of the dogs killing a bunny and playing with the body doesn't bother me so much. Dogs, even if they are the cutest, bestest dogs in the world, are still animals. Jeff found the story quite amusing when I told him (and, in fact, it was exceedingly amusing watching Plato struggle valiantly to excrete what was very obviously a bunny foot the next day), but I can assure you he would absolutely not have been laughing if he had been there. In fact, his shrieking may have distracted them from their bloodlust a lot sooner. I'm telling you. It was disgusting.

And then I hopped on a plane to Rome! More on that to come.