Perfection

If you set out to design your favourite neighbourhood brunch place - the kind of place that tourists would feel quite clever about discovering - you might put some thought into the location, tucking it away at the top of a hill so that people could feel they'd earned their breakfast treat. You might give some thought to the lighting so that the place was warm and inviting...



... you could have a big wooden table and strew it with papers and magazines...


...and allow people a peak into the kitchen where all the magic happens...


...add splashes of vibrant colour to complement the creamy/browny goodness of the neutral decor...


... and spend time thinking about the tasty treats people might like to eat..









...and then you'd pretty much have arrived at the perfect place to break your daily fast.


Mr. Granger, I salute you. You are a clever, clever man.

C.x

At Grandma's

In today's Sydney Morning Herald, I read a review of a new bar which, among its many attractions, was a basket of wool for drinkers to knit if the urge took them. I just knew I had to go.

In the best tradition of an old speakeasy, we had a bit of difficulty finding the entrance. The place has just opened and they haven't got their signage sorted out yet so we walked straight passed it. Doubling back involved much grumbling from Mr. P about needles and drink not making obvious partners, but Grandma's Bar was worth the hunt.

I knew we'd arrived at the right spot when, at the bottom of the stairs, we saw this:


A granny blanket! As promised in the review, there's even a basket with knitting needles and yarn. But I must admit it took me enough courage to ask the rather cool barman if I could take some photos for my blog without reacquainting myself with knitting as well.



In New York we have a speakeasy complete with beer bottles in brown paper bags and cocktails served in china cups. But no-where do we have a communal knitting project and flying parakeets on the wall. Grandma as trendsetter - who knew!



C.x

Brief Encounter

Garry Winogrand was a photographer in the 1960s, 70s and early 80s who took the most lovely photographs documenting American life. Among my favourite of his works is one taken at the airport in Los Angeles in the 60s.

I have a poster of it hanging in my hall which was given to me by a friend. Ever since I first saw the original 15 years ago I have wanted to drink cocktails at the bar in this photo. And on Saturday, that's just what we did!


What a fabulous place! Full of lava lamps and banquettes...




...and a Darth Vader beer tap...


... even the loo was quite wild...


All in all it made the long 8 hour lay over before the long long flight to Sydney well worth it.

We still had time to kill so we ended up in Santa Monica for a couple of hours. And I discovered that a little paparazzi action really does go with the territory in LA:








Okay, so he's not exactly Brangelina, but I have to say I was thrilled to see him, even if we missed the cooking demo. But then, that wasn't the point...

I had all sorts of plans about how many granny squares I was going to make on the flight. Fifteen hours with not much to do - I can only imagine the fab blankets the amazing women of blogland would whip up. Me? Well, here you are:



Two squares. I know; quite pathetic. But in my defence, I had to rip up the first one several times because I couldn't quite remember how the first round went and how it transitioned to the second, and I didn't have any nice videos to remind me. But I got there in the end. And I'm beginning to regret being so conservative in my colour choice. But never mind. I'm going to plough on and will consider this my practice run before I graduate to full multi-coloured crochet bliss.

Now we're in Sydney and I am stupid with tiredness.

Happy Valentine's Day everybody.


Cx

Julie Andrews had a point

Today was my last day in a job that I have done for the last nine months.  This job has been challenging and I have learned a lot about myself and the way I handle stress, and manage other people - upward and downward.  I have decided to leave this job and go back to my old job.  This was not easy because it meant going down a grade again, and I always think it difficult to go back rather than go on to something else.  But this was not the job for me, so no point pretending.  Ten years ago, I would have ploughed on, making myself more unhappy in the process.  I have mixed feeling about the whole thing, but I am pleased that I now have some balance between ambition and happiness.

To mark my departure from this job, Mr. P decided that the time had come to buy me something that I first said was a gadget too far, and gradually was seduced into wanting.  Look!

So, Mr. P, thank you for your unconditional support over the last 9 months.  You are lovely and amazing, and I am a lucky lucky thing.  In at least one of my parallel lives I must have done something good.

(And thanks also for my ipad.)

And for the luddite in all of us, I give you this.  Enjoy.  I'm off to play with my new machine.

C.x

Equidistance

Lines are parallel if they lie in the same plane,

and are the same distance apart over their entire length

(not my photo - found on Google images)

When I was at school, we were taught that parallel lines could never meet. Parallel lines remain the same distance apart over their entire length. No matter how far you extend them, they will never meet.

But I have a theory, developed over the last few years, that I am in fact leading several lives in parallel.  In the life I live, I forget people's birthdays, give people shop-bought cake, read magazines, shop too much and never make anything.  In my parallel lives, I make my own cards and remember to send them on time, I sew my own clothes and bake cookies and muffins to take to work, I write stories instead of just talking about writing them, I call my mother every day... you begin to get the picture.  And it's not just the wholesome things I fantasize about.  In a parallel life, I buy frockage from Saks (instead of just photographing it) and swan around at parties.  Or I actually learn to speak French fluently for once and for all.  I don't know - it's just a sense of roads not taken I suppose.

 (not my photo - found on Google images)

For some time now, I have wanted to introduce myself to the parallel me that's out there somewhere.  Part of the real me thinks that the parallel me would be an irritating, smug, prissy little thing that I might want to kick in the shins.  But part of the real me also knows that the parallel me might actually be living an altogether more fulfilling life.  Don't misunderstand - I love my life.  I really do.  For all sorts of reasons, I think I'm the luckiest person on the planet.  But even then, might it not be possible to discover a whole new side to yourself? 

Some of this schizophrenic thinking has led to the decision to experiment at bit.  Why not try to do some of the things my more creative alter-ego is busy doing?  Why not learn to make my own presents (that people might actually want), and bake the odd cake or make a skirt that doesn't look like it should be shredded for dusting?  In short, why not push a little here and there, step outside my comfort zone and try something new.  And in the process achieve more of an equilibrium.  Do you think that could be the opposite of equidistance?

So, what are you doing in a parallel life?  Are you a lady who lunches in Channel suits, or working in a soup kitchen?  Are you a painter or orator?  A mechanic or musician?  Do you scuba dive or ride fantasy horses?  I really would love to know.

And in an effort to make sure I get to know the parallel me a bit, I am continuing with my Happy Christmas project (note that I am following Mr. P's advice about easier letters first) AND have made another granny square:

Not sure if I'll take the sewing to Australia, but at least it'll be ready and waiting when I get back.  But I am definitely taking my crochet hook.  On that, if anyone has an easy way of changing colours, I'd love to hear about it.  I found a way which involves making a slip stitch with the new colour and then casting off the old colour loop over the slip stitch.  It works fine, but it means that all the threads are bunched up in one place in the square rather than spread out around the place making them easier to manage. 

All help gratefully received.

Oh yes, and on my walk to work today I saw...

...this Lego sign...

...made of hundreds of builders stood around in hard hats - how cool is that!...

... these amorous pigs...

... and neon pink pastrami.

I hope you don't mind me sharing my 'walk to work' photos.  It really is motivating me to get out and walk.  But I have to tell you I was late for work today because I lost track of time staring at the Lego shop....

C.x

I spy

(With apologies for the quality of my iphone photos) 

Yesterday I walked to work and on the way I saw...

...a frou frou frilly apron in Magnolia Bakery...

... the mother of all Lego towers, which made me want to reach in and bury my hands in colour...

... two elegant teapots shyly courting...

 ... and more frockage in the window of Saks.

What do you see on the way to work?

Hope you have a lovely day.

Claire

A spoonful of sugar

This morning I walked to work.  That's two miles from one side of Manhattan to the other.  Admittedly, we're not talking about marathon distances here, but it's two miles more exercise that I normally do.  There are two main reasons for this:

Reason no.1: In preparation for my trip to Australia (this Saturday - hurray!) I am becoming reacquainted with my Summer clothes.  That meant spending time over the weekend rooting in my wardrobe (I do love a good root*), unearthing things I'd forgotten I had and then parading in front of Mr. P when he was trying to watch the tellie.  I grew up in a house full of women - I am the youngest of three sisters, no brothers, and a rather stylish Mum - so I am used to having and being a more responsive audience than Mr. P in such situations.  "That's nice", "Yeah, that'll do" and "Fine" aren't really what I was looking for, but never mind.  And because I have been watching what I eat and have lost 6-8 pounds since Christmas (depending on how accurate I believe my scales to be) I can fit into most of them pretty well.  All except one pair of trousers that fit like a glove last year and that I absolutely love.  And without going into the anatomical detail, they now look a bit indecent.  So, I am determined to lose another two pounds this week.

(BTW, I am not normally so bothered about my weight, but this time last year I was about 12 pounds lighter.  Then I started a job which, shall we say, was something of a challenge, and instead of sticking to worthy soup every day, I got into the habit of eating delicious General Tso's Chicken for lunch.  Take it from me, this falls into the "moment on the lips, lifetime on the hips" school of culinary delights.  But this is my last week in this job, so I am determined to regain some of my old self, and leave the bad bits behind, including the 12 pounds I gained.)

Anyway, back to the walk.  I'm eating pretty healthily at the moment, and I don't want to go on a crash diet of cabbage soup or celery stalks, so I figure the only option left is to stride it off.  I am not at all sporty.  We have a gym in our building and I can count on two hands the number of times I have been there.  So, the two mile walk to work seems like a plan. 

And besides, there was an ulterior motive - which brings me to reason no. 2:

Every day I pass this shop on the bus to work, and every day the window display goes by too quickly, so I knew immediately the route I would take as I wove through the streets as I crossed the island.  And (obviously) they must be reading my blog, because they've caught the crafting bug too.  LOOK!

 I went back after work this evening and tried on the lovely looking top.  Only it wasn't lovely on me.  Never mind.

 And how fabulous are these?  I would love a tour around the head of the person who came up with the idea.  Coat hangers as dresses.  Of course.

And inside this evening, I saw these rather shouty cushions and chair.  It's a bit full on for me, but how fabulous to look at when it's all grey and cold outside.

And they had this amazing fantasy light which sort of just grows out of a bookshelf.

How very Miss Havisham!

And finally, for the more up-market crafter in us all, a little Chanel frock in the window of Sacks:

Such a shame the moths have had at it...

Claire

*For any Aussie readers out there, a "good root" means to rummage.  Just to clarify that I have not taken to having a bit of nookie in my cupboards...