clarifications

We're just back from a long weekend Up North where we were visiting my family and helping my mummy move house.

For those who were following my twitter conversation with Lauren about the joys of Countdown, the aforementioned mother would like it noted for the record that when I say:

'every day forever my family have recorded it, watched it before bed & paused it when the letters appear til everyone has a word'*

by 'my family' I mean 'my Grandparents' and that she has never willingly watched an episode of Countdown in her life. She has however, as has every member of our family, watched many hundreds of them unwillingly.

I say 'unwillingly', but I kind of hate and kind of love The Countdown Routine. Yes, it's weird and slightly annoying and no, I would never watch it outwith my Grandparent's house, but it's our weird and slightly annoying thing. One of those Family Things that makes you want to hide your head under a sofa cushion but you're not sure if it would be so no one can hear you scream or so no one can see you laugh. Every family has one of those, right?

*(thus dragging the already tedious task of watching a Whole Damn Episode to epic proportions)

**said Grandparents and three eldest grandchildren (including one small blond me) circa 1987

Love you Chicken.

Does this mean I have to stop calling him Chicken* in public? And ohsweetjesus, what about him calling me Pix? Surely Pix** doesn't count?

*I don't do this regularly, but sometimes it just kind of slips out. But then sometimes it just kind of slips out when I'm talking to other people that I love and before I know it Soph is looking at me like 'you freak, you just called me poultry'. So that's not really a pet name, but rather my inner 80 year old breaking free, right?

** I don't think he calls me this when he's talking about me to other people, just when he wants me to pass him the sauce or not get run over and stuff like that.

hare and stripes

This would be my summer outfit of choice.

You know, if Wholefoods in Union Square hadn't bled me dry.

* Reiss, Digby & Iona (@ Catbird), Nine West

birds on the subway

Since getting back we have:

collected our bunny, who is now affectionate (my gran either broke his spirit or replaced him with a friendlier specimen).

Camped out in our flat which has next to no furniture, but now has really beautiful floorboards (which the aforementioned rabbit refuses to walk on)

Spent a WHOLE WEEKEND at weddings, 26 hours out of 48.

Spent two days asleep following the above.

Bemoaned the fact that our farmer's market does not have beds of peonies in which to roll. Rejoiced in the fact that our farmer's market does have carrots. And onions.

Tried to recreate a meal made for us by N's brother (futile)

Missed cupcakes. And cheesecake and doughnuts and pancakes (American ones no less) and Amanda.

Compared the local dog population to that of New York (different. We have less weird shit but better mongrels)

*birds on the subway, by me.

um.

N: would you rather live in New Jersey with a view of Manhattan or Manhattan with a view of New Jersey?

Me: you're kidding, right?

Whoops.

Things I really meant to do in New York but kind of forgot:

take photographs

answer emails

buy beautiful shoes

buy beautiful anythings

be photographed by the Sartorialist

come home to find myself featured on all of those blogs that write about cute girls who have been photographed by the Sartorialist

sit in cafés reading books

wear sunscreen

blog.

* Boy and I, week 1.