A few last minute, last of the year goodies:
The last Flickr Favorites of 2009…
…with a pinch to grow on.
How we spent our last week of the year. (Not pictured: manic cleaning, tidying, de-stuffing and rearranging. Nor the 900 trips J. took to the trash nor all the stuff to be gotten rid of.)
From the top: making Christmas pudding mousse for Boxing Day (blending this nearly broke our blender), finding an old pair of jeans, making chocolate mint pots (click the picture for the recipe, such as it is), living on the roasted applesauce that Melissa told me about.
The last weekly thing:
Knitting: I’m kind of not, this week. You see, Santa came through with that Wii. And there might have been some of that when we weren’t cleaning like a fury. (Seriously, J. and I can barely move we’re so tired.)
Reading: Wind Tunnel Dreams by the lovely Shira.
Listening To: Still Christmas music. Christmas lasts until January 1st, you see. But tomorrow the Christmas season is officially over. I am happy about that. I’m ready for it to just be winter.
Watching: Again, nothing. Been too tired.
And now, the last two photos of this year:
(I’m working on my photography skills at the moment. So if those look different, that’s why.)
2009, I’m glad you’re over. 2010, welcome. You’re going to be the best year yet, I just know it.
Happy New Year.
Happiest of Holidays from J. and I to you and yours.
That’s the last of London, I hope you enjoyed it.
And I hope whatever you celebrate today is made of awesome. And in the immortal words of Bill & Ted: Be excellent to each other.
(It’s a restaurant. I was confused too. And then I was amused.)
Pretty gems of London.
London traffic, ick.
Christmas shopping in London.
It’s Christmas Eve! Are you ready for tomorrow? Tonight J. and I are going to write letters to Santa and leave them under the tree. This of course is a ridiculous and slightly silly idea. But it occurred to me today that the sheer magic has gone out of life. It’s all about trade offs and energy systems. If I input x, I can safely expect y. Somewhere it’s become about keeping the system working, never taking too much good stuff, expecting, preparing for and accepting the bad. I want the magic back. You know, the kind there was before you heard of the dangers of bargaining with fairies, before you were taught to expect the bad, before you learned there wasn’t that kind of magic in the world. Because there is and always has been. But as we grow up, we’re expected to forget that. This Christmas, I want to remember.
Right. In case you didn’t know, I LOVE London. I first stepped foot in it in 1999 and have never stopped loving it. It’s a nanometer off first in the running for my favorite city. Which is Los Angeles, my hometown. (My mother will point out that LA is not *technically* my hometown but I ignore her. It’s my spiritual hometown. It’s 50 miles away from my hometown. Most people have never heard of my hometown. I hate my hometown. So, LA it is.) Not only do I love London for itself but as a city girl transplanted to the country transplanted to England, I love the big city atmosphere. We live in a small ish town. Things close here around 6pm every night. There’s a few restaurants, a movie theater and 150 pubs. There are tiny villages everywhere with a pub and a church and that’s IT. There’s no Starbucks. In fact, until about three years ago there wasn’t a single coffee shop to be had. But London, oh London! As soon as you hit the city proper it’s stores open late, restaurants of every size, shape and cuisine, theaters, galleries and museums galore. There’s stuff to do. Always. And I kind of miss having three coffee shops within 20 feet, you know? Only sometimes, mind you. I was marooned on a farm 20 miles from the nearest tiny town (pop. 2000) for my teens. And sometimes I miss *that*. But I digress.
We headed to London on Saturday to catch a matinee of The Phantom of the Opera, which J. had never seen. It was really, really good. I’d seen it twice before, in one huge theater (Dorothy Chandler Pavilion – where they hold the Academy Awards) and a medium sized one in San Francisco. This theater? Tiny. Teeny. But it was probably the best version I’ve seen. I am enamored of stage design, I love how they have to build/make/use the space they have. J. liked the candles coming out of the “water”, like you do. And the guy playing the Phantom? Super good.
Now, London. Well, Trafalgar Square, actually.
It was really cold that day. The shadowy canyons between buildings were numbing. And then you stepped into the open square the light was dazzling.
More London tomorrow.