It’s that time of the week when I have to write that post I have committed myself to and which I already forgot to write last week (I blame all the chocolate and hot cross buns). Anyway, here’s whats been keeping my heart singing lately.
We went camping (lol) in the Drakensberg this week and I couldn’t get enough of all the pretty little windflowers everywhere. Thanks to my entire family for their patience as I halted our hikes every five mintues to take pictures. Totally worth it though.
It’s not often that we go away with family anymore – peeps are re-married and us kids are all grown-up, having their own kids and living their own lives. And so it was really special to go camping with Andrew, my dad, stepmom and stepsister. The beers/port/whiskey/gin/Pimms came out and we cuddled around the campfire listening to my Dad’s stories of his time in the army and when he lived in Texas. I wish I had recorded it all to play to my grandkids one day, because I NEED to remember this stuff, you know? Yes, I AM getting sentimental as I get older. It was awesome and we all had a good laugh at some old army colonel’s expense. Said colonel had it in for my Dad. Dad nicknamed him Pienk Vark (Pink Pig) and did everything possible to irritate the crap out of him. I always thought I had inherited my other-wiseness from my mum… turns out I got a rather decent dollop from my pop too! We also played a noisy round (ok, maybe four rounds) of Kings in the pub and Andrew and I taught my little sister how to play Fives Alive. So, you know, if she goes to Rhodes, she’s pretty much set. (BIANCA, GO TO RHODES).
Speaking of Pienk Vark, I’m a little obsessed with piglets at the moment. Especially piglets in water. The piglet obsession started when my mom sent me a message saying that she wanted a piglet. Haha. Next thing I knew, I was on some random website cooing over pigs in baths. I won’t be getting a pig just yet – I have a zoo as it is, although that would suit a little piggie down to the ground – they are very social creatures and love playing with other animals – which is why sow crates break my heart… but if my Operation Release The Pigs In The Disgusting Piggery Next Door happens in the dead of night anytime soon, I might rescue a couple. If you’re keen to join me in this operation, mail me. I need cameras and brave souls.
The nights and days are slightly chillier, the leaves are beginning to yellow and bathmats on bathroom tiles are gold. I bought some fluffy slipper/boot things whilst camping and have pretty much lived in them since. They will be my perfect partner for working at my desk this winter. I also made a delicious sweet potato, broccoli and marrow soup with quinoa and red kidney beans the other night and the excess has been zip-locked and frozen for yummy last minute lunches and snacks. Once your body adjusts to the evening temperature drop, winter in the Midlands is one of the most stunning climates to be in. The nights are still and cold and the stars are so close you can touch them. The days are crisp and clear and you can see the Drakensberg in high-resolution from just about anywhere… not to mention the beautiful yellow and brown hues of the land juxta-positioned against the stark blue winter skies. Ooo! I do love winter! Just as long as it doesn’t snow. Also, I can wait to make this yummy super-creamy vegan hot chocolate.
the hair cut
I haven’t cut my hair since I bobbed it for our European trip last year so that puts me officially on two haircuts in two years now. I’m so low maintenance it’s frightening. But I think I’m in need of a trim and maybe even a fringe and a little ombre action. I can spend hours searching for hair styles and colours. This is my favourite-can’t-stop-thinking-about-it style and colour at the moment. Maybe I’ll just continue dreaming and rocking the mousy wild locks. MUST. PHONE. HAIRSTYLIST. ON. MONDAY. Or not.
My husband is a hoarder and a clutterer and a misplacer-of-things and everything else you can think of that equals messy and untidy. If you’re thinking of coming to stay with us – don’t. He has accumulated SO MUCH kak in our spare room that I can’t even see the bed, never mind make it up for any guests. There are golf bags (about four of them, I’m sure), sports bags, a snow board and boxes and boxes filled with invoices and slips and tickets stubs and letters from old girlfriends. The other morning he spent about ten minutes trying to make a dent in that room and came out with a tiny pile of stuff (literally like two books and a magazine) that belonged to me, declaring that “You see???!!! It’s not only my rubbish in here!” Anyway, in that (very little) pile was an old postcard from my friend Andrea from when she lived in Italy and was beaching it up in Rimini. Isn’t there something so magical about old postcards? There is an entire box of them at the little antique shops next to The Farmer’s Daughter and I can spend hours going through and reading old messages (creepster). There are entire websites like this one dedicated to the sale of old postcards! Perhaps one day my great grandkids will read Andrea’s postcard to me and giggle. I think we all need to start sending more postcards – even if it’s just from your own hometown to a friend. We need to keep history alive.
vegan restaurants in london
We’re off on a bit of an English and Scottish adventure in July and I’m just ridiculously excited to be going to places where there are so many vegan restaurants to eat at. Did you know that the concept and term “Veganism” was officially coined in England in 1944 (not such a passing fad, then)? Edinburgh is hugely veggie friendly and my friend Rose sent me this list of vegan friendly restaurants in London. I’m hoping to tick at least three or four of them off my list. If you have been to any of them, let me know what you think and which are your best, can’t-miss-out-on-it ones! It’s going to be amazing to be spoilt for choice and to not have to order a green salad (hold the feta) and a plate of slap chips when eating out. Glory, I’m salivating just thinking about it!
I’m ashamed to say that I’ve never recycled until recently. My mom started doing it ages ago, but it seemed like such a hack – cleaning tins and plastics out, sorting and then taking it all down to the recycling centre in Howick. But lo and behold – there is a drop off point in Nottingham Road behind the toy shop at The Junction. I separate my waste into old wine boxes and try to remember to drop it off whenever I go into town. It really is so easy. Becoming vegan has opened up my eyes to all my consumption patterns and I really want to tread as lightly on this earth as I can. I can’t believe how much I used to waste things for my own greed/laziness – including precious little lives. It’s a really great feeling to be walking your talk as much as you possibly can. Now excuse me, I have to go rescue another mouse from the evil clutches of the Abby Cat. Have a wonderful week everyone!
much love xxx