Grandmother

It has been two years since my grandmother took a trip across the country to visit her daughter's home in California with her first born twin daughters. It has been two years since her presence has been missed by our family, two years since she passed away, days after arriving back to Ohio from her great train adventure.

Grandmothers are sometimes overlooked, loved greatly, but not truly known by their grandchildren, a craving mystery by their children. My grandmother stoically survived raising 11 educated and productive children in rural Ohio. In the years I was blessed to have her (when she was 65-85 years old), she enjoyed the wealth of her labor; her family, secure in her lovely big house. I thought she had little to say, unless of course she was telling someone what to do, as mother's always do, but now I think maybe I just didn't listen.

On her trip to California, to my surprise, she told me many stories, things about her sisters, how she used to dance, stories about my grandfather and her, a constant stream of conversation. I enjoyed it, I took it for granted and my father and I told each other, she's going to be around for years to come, she is so strong in mind. We were so wrong, this trip was her last.

It's funny what you miss about a person. I miss her large hands, the way she chewed, and her smiling coyly. I missed how she always wore great jewelry and when we went any place other than the Home Town Buffet she would say, 'I always end up ordering the wrong thing', which I now often find myself saying.

I think I have her big eyes, her big bones and a bit of her thriftiness that my cousins and I kiddingly call, 'the Knueven gene' passed down from our mother's and father's because these were the lessons she taught about being grateful and the value of the dollar.

I still think of her on her farm.

I still think of her as if she is in the distance somewhere, possibly dozing, listening to business reports, as she always did. Or maybe, maybe she is softly humming, quietly content.

I hope I am like her when I am a grandmother, when I am older, I wish it so.

Hoss Intropia

Shopping with the gals is a perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon. We found my flatmate's good friend in Intropia Hoss, a store I am not familiar with, but with one step in, I fell in lust.
It's a Spanish, less whimsical, smaller, Anthropologie ish store. I have a love for buttons and this satisfied my love with its large odd shaped, pale colored buttons attached to dresses, fine leather bags, and the occasional high heel. A favorite of my friends was a white chunky domino looking (without the black dots) necklace that the sales assistant was wearing for only the small price of 32quid.

The black dress seen above is from their summer collection, great for someone tall who likes variation in their ordinary white/black getup.

For more looks, check out their site: http://hossintropia.com/

Cornwall

A bank holiday is a cherished thing here in England. Generally people take the three day weekend to have a short getaway or to have one extra day to 'veg out' over the weekend. Last weekend my friends and I decided on the latter and took a (camping) trip to Cornwall which is in the South West of England.

Rain was expected (surprise, surprise), but we went prepared, with huge ruck sacks on our backs and tents strapped to our waists. We arrived in Penzance and set up camp in a tiny (only a two pub) village near St Michael's Mount, a castle a few meters from shore that you can explore when the tide wis out. As luck would have it, a beer festival was going on and although the weather was cold we had little rain the day we arrived. We then went to St Ives, a beautiful, fairly posh coastal town, and in the evening attempted to sample most of the Cornish beers at the beer festival.

Sunday was a favorite day with lots of laughter, lots of sun, and a long hike along the coast. Up and down the hills and dales we went with our rain boots and I with my large and cumbersome umbrella, trying to reach Lands End (yes it is an actual place, not just a catalogue!!)! We saw cows, beautiful wild flowers, tiny water falls and clear blue water (you wouldn't think it in England, but it looked as if we were in the Mediterranean). I maned the middle in the group, trying to get the lovely ladies behind me to keep up while they snapped photos left and right trying for that perfect picture, while yelling to the two hardcore hikers in the lead to wait for us.

Monday, our last day, the ugly weather reached us, but with the memory of sunshine still with us and the knowledge we would soon be home, we didn't mind trying to put down our tents in the down pour and wind or mind the long bus ride home with only scones and clotted cream (a Cornish staple) to fill our bellies.

I definitely recommend the trip if you have time to spare while in England.

Photos to follow.

Alpini Singers

My friend asked these gentlemen to sing for us the famous battle song about the bridge where the festivities were taking place. I guess you had to be there, but it almost made me cry. Various people broke out in song during the weekend.

Dancing American with a backpack

It speaks for itself....yes, I know I am a bit sad or maybe is it mad?

Italy

I went to the alpini (a fun loving sector of the military in Italy) festival that was held near my friends village in Italy, near Venice. It was FANTASTIC, truely a great experience!!!
The first photo, my friends with the Alpini's hats. The second, a view from the famous bridge which by the end of the weekend was packed with party goers. The third, masks in Venice. Enjoying the white wine at the festival is the 4th photo and the fifth is the alpini's and their hates in front of the church. There were so many! It looks like a flock of birds?!! More photos and videos to follow.

Oh Happy Day!

I have recently secured the role of PA to the Head of the Business Information Officer and the Head of the Communications at a charity organisation, St John Ambulance, in Farringdon. Everyone seems really cool and I think it will be a great experience. It's a charity that deals with first aid and safety training and they have many volunteers at concerts/marathon (see photo). Overall we support over 40,000 volunteers within the UK. I am so happy to have a permanant role and to soon be salaried! Everyone was right, it just takes some time after school to find a good position.

Check out where I will be working: www.sja.org.uk/sja

The Faltering Fallback

My housemate and I have a new favorite local.
When I first moved to Finsbury park the doctor I work with suggested a place called the faltering fallback as his favorite bar in the area. I didn't quite understand where it was so I didn't attempt to go.
A few weeks later I was talking to my upstairs neighbor and, as the Brits generally do when first getting acquainted, he started recommending his local pubs. I heard from him again about the faltering fallback so I told me flatmate it was worth a trip.
Sunday following we thought we would explore a bit in the neighborhood and ended up near where the pub was located. We asked someone and they pointed to the end of the road. We heard a lot of noise coming up to it, but only saw ivy and beautiful flowers. When we walked in we were greeted by hoards of men. I turned to my flatmate stating, "this place is great" while she thought the male energy was a bit overwhelming. We walked through uncovering little coves and areas where people played board games. The back opened up to a great simple large room with a pool table and loads of picnic tables, filled with local supporters. The back area, this area, thai food was being served by a suprisingly very clean and tiny kitchen. Trying to find space we discovered the beer garden which had different decks and different levels covered with pretty window boxes and much needed heat lamps.

Since then, we've agreed the faltering fallback is a keeper and a great pub to have in our neighborhood. The name alone is genius and we definitely like the vibe.

London Living: Tales of Apartment Hunting.

On a mission to find the perfect flat for two which is within our meager price range, my friend Belen and I are up for a real challenge.
London is full of people and full of habitations, tiny little gems, disgusting over lived in lets, disastrous refurbishments. The city is divided up in zones and although we agreed zone one (the centre) is just too intense, we don't want to be out too far. Zone two would be brilliant and in our price range (sort of). In our quest to find this ideal apartment, we have met our share of landlords, or slumlords, each unique and eccentric as is the property they have to offer.
A few nights ago I saw one in Elephant and Castle, it was fairly nice, though dirty. It was close to the centre and the right price. But it was also owned by a racist princess, pulling up in her Audi declaring quietly to me that she would rather let to someone like me then someone like the current Africans she had living there now, even offering me a discount in the deposit. Although the place was nice I couldn't stomach giving this woman my dough and in the end I couldn't imagine our mums visiting. It wasn't in the best area or maybe it was because I was being too picky.
Sunday we were in in Highgate, a beautiful area, very high class and although the lounge and kitchen were lovely in this garden flat, the rooms reminded us of our first year at uni, ever so tiny. The same Sunday we also saw a flat in zone one, near the white chapel tube station, which made our skins crawl. The tenants, having left in a rush, left the place disgustingly dirty and what was supposed to be in reality a two bedroom flat was actually a one bed room with the living room used as a bedroom. The scary stairwell and the dirtyness of the place we couldn't ignore. We told the estate agent thanks, but no thanks.
We are still looking, ever diligent. We know we would be good tenants and I know there is that perfect place just waiting for us to find it. I think it's important to like the place you live. We have some time, three weeks or so and until then I will enjoy where I am at the moment. Looking out to the (SUNNY!!!) garden in Bounds Green.

So close I can taste it!

Our papers have been littered with stories on the presidential hopefuls for the upcoming election. They all look willing and ready. My friend's have bets going with me that Hilary will surely win, she has too!! they argue, she is a woman!!! (and a supporter of the war). I am leaning towards Obama for a bit of change in tired Washington. Whoever wins, I will be happy it cannot and will not be Bush (sorry auntie). Click on the link below to see a little vinet of our chosen leader I found on youtube. Remember Quayle? It might be safe to say Bush is worse. There are many more where this came from:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BqLvBUSJucg

Yes Please! Leather Bags!

As a scholar I am loving big chunky leather bags. Although slightly masciline, I feel they are quiet sexy for both men and woman. Leather is not for the socially conscious, but if you are do go this way, there are rich pieces meant to last and can be treasured classics long after those last papers are turned in or marked. The bag above is one I saw in a boutique around town in London, the below bag is Miu Miu (one of my favorite designers) which can be found on netaporter.