Dear Paris, part 1

24 October 2012

Dear Paris,
I do believe we are off to a rather bumpy start...

It all started on a train. A very fast train and a last minute decision, as it does. I say last minute, but there was no choice really, to be so close and not go to Paris? That would have been a travesty.

So, I'm on this train excited and exhausted and overwhelmed just a little. I am reading this book I brought, it's a very sad book. As the train speeds through the French countryside the sun streams through the window. I have to put on my sunglasses because of the sun, and also so that the two pompous businessmen sitting across from me wont see me cry. Here I am - a plump, slightly quirky, middle-aged woman on a train crying because it has dawned on me that my much younger self's long time dream of going to Paris is finally coming true.

Now some of you may be saying to yourselves (much as a friend of mine said to me upon hearing my story) "tut tut, oh dear thing crying on a train in front of strangers behind sunglasses, must've been so embarrassing and awful."
Well friends, there is no need for that, yet. I assure you, just as it did in the very sad book I was reading, it got much worse. Unlike the book, we will all laugh about it later.

And just so you don't begin to fret too much, it also got better. Much, much better.

I arrived at the Gare Du Nord station in the afternoon, as I stepped off the train I found myself a little dizzy. I have a plan, vague and dodgy as it may be and I head towards the street. Alright, what I have is not so much a plan, but rather more a rumor of a place to stay. I've been told of an eccentric woman who speaks five languages, tells wild stories and lets rooms in a large old building. I have her name and telephone number written in my notebook. "Just call her when you arrive in Paris, tell her you are the cousin of so-and-so from Kansas, she'll remember. She always has a room, don't worry." What could go wrong?

In front of the station I call the woman. Yes, she remembers and she demands, "When do you want to come?" "Tonight? Oh no, no! I am full completely! I am so sorry."

Alright, Plan B. At least I had the foresight to research a couple of hotels near the station. Out comes the map of Paris, a vain search for street signs and no clue about direction. Suddenly I am not so confident about the few words of French in my repertoire and I find myself practicing them in a whisper to myself. I end up walking back and forth along streets until I spy one of the hotels in my notebook. With a sigh of relief I walk to the reception desk and ask for a room. The clerk shouts "All full!"

On the street again and my bags are getting much too heavy, I catch a glimpse of myself in a window - all wild haired, overburdened, glassy eyed and lost. How many blocks to the next hotel? I begin walking again in what I hope is the right direction, giving myself a wee pep talk, trying to keep my chin up... at this very moment the elastic on my knickers gives one last retiring moan and gives up the ghost entirely. So now I am trudging along the streets of Paris trying to keep my bags from tumbling to the ground whilst also attempting to keep my knickers from sliding down to my ankles and landing me face down on the sidewalk. As I shuffle along in humiliating convolution, I suddenly think of The Hunchback of Notre Dame and laugh. Which actually comes out more like a barking sob. I know that this is all going to be very funny later, but for now...

The second hotel is also full.

It is late afternoon. I sit down at the nearest cafe, having forgotten every word of French I know and simply point to the menu for coffee. It doesn't occur to me that I have eaten nothing all day. My impromptu Plan C is to sit here and watch the world go by until it is late enough for me to call the Engineer back home. I am tired, a bit homesick, I miss my family and my knickers wont stay up for nothin'. Why I did not think to discreetly remove the offending garment and slip them in my purse (it is Paris after all) rather than continue to wrestle with them, I can not tell you.

As I sit, I make the poor decision to continue reading my sad book. I don't think that helped. I reach in my pocket for The Lumberjack to keep me company, but he isn't there. I rifle through my bag, nothing! Oh woe is me, The Lumberjack is missing! This makes me feel quite tragic and even more dejected. I entertain the thought that perhaps he has gone off to Boulevard de Clichy and the Moulin Rouge in search of the thrill of a little can-can. I hope this is the case.

I finally get The Engineer on the phone and blubber my predicament. Bless him, he is on the internet looking for a hotel for me when the line goes dead. My pre-paid phone has just run out of minutes! Mad scramble to find a pay phone that takes credit cards in the noisy train station. Finally, I get details and directions - only just over a kilometer away, I can walk that. Ok, it's all going to be ok.

Armed with my notebook, map and a new determination, I begin the trek to the hotel. As the sky grows dark I am walking and walking for what seems a very long time indeed, getting lost a few times, doubling back on myself, looking again for the elusive street signs, struggling with my bags and those damn slippery knickers! I notice my environs turning a bit iffy and wonder where it is I've ended up. Finally, an hour and a half later I see my hotel, a discreet little building with a sweet red door. I walk in breathless, sweating and utterly exhausted. I sigh deeply with relief that the woman at reception speaks English because my brain can barely form a sentence in my native tongue let alone manage one in French. I am given the key to my room and take the tiny lift to the 3rd floor. I open my door and collapse onto the bed.

24 October 2012

Dear Paris,
You are crazy.

It is at this point that things begin to improve considerably. I promise that Part 2 is all about the love!

The Last of London

Oh my oh my, what a strange time we are having! We have just gotten over the sickness and now we are in the throws of preparation for the big family holiday feast!

I am decidedly behind on all bloggy business, but that is life no? First I want to say a big hello and thank you to all the new followers, you are simply lovely.

Next, I will finally finish up with my London photos as these last shots were from one of my favorite outings. Picture heavy and few words to follow.

On Sunday morning before my workshop I went on an adventure with The Lumberjack to Columbia Road Flower Market, and what a wonderful time we had!

The flowers were gorgeous, the hawkers were cheeky, the atmosphere was divine and the air scented with Lilies and roses!

The Lumberjack amongst some knitted bunting of course. The little shops along Columbia Road were somewhat hidden behind the walls of flowers, but once you squeezed yourself inside the treasures were breathtaking. I could have easily spent a fortune on beautiful things and then again on having them shipped home. I limited myself to one teeny tiny keepsake that will always remind me of my time there. I also had the most delicious berry muffin and cup of coffee from a tiny hole in the wall, literally (ok, it was more niche than hole) if you find yourself on Columbia Road on Market day I highly recommend said hole in the wall for breakfast treats.

From Columbia Road we headed off to Brick Lane and perused the street seller's goods. Stopped and had a very nice chat with one of them. The Lumberjack was fiercely negotiating the price of a WWII leather map sack with the gentleman. When they had finally settled on a price the Lumberjack turned to me with his hand out, alas I had spent all my precious monies already which was a shame because it really was a very handsome map sack. The Lumberjack then regaled the seller with stories of his travels and adventures while I reminisced over the old pastille tins just like my grandmother used to have. I can still taste those black current pastilles if I shut my eyes a bit.

Then there was the food. Meringues as big as my head and goodies aplenty.

Then there was this guy! Blaring reggae music and dancing, loved him! I will always think of him as Mr. Spicy!

After that The Lumberjack wanted to hire a bicycle as he was tired of all the walking. What walking I ask you? You have been riding in my pocket the whole time! When he realized his boots couldn't reach the pedals that was the end of it and we hoofed it to Spitalfields Market, where again I could have spent a heap. Still, I did find something nice for my mother.

Oh what a wonderful day! One of my favorites of the trip.

Well that wraps up London for now. Next week the final chapter in my travel saga, Paris! What a wild time that was!

Since the Thanksgiving Holiday is upon us in the States, I wish to say how thankful I am for all of you.

Until next time my friends - be safe, be well.

Mind the Gap - Tales from London

Part 1

October 18, 2012

After a very long flight we began our decent into London, Heathrow. A quick peek out of the window and the sprawling mass of London below took my breath away. "I'm here" I thought to myself, "what do you know!" All I need to do is get through immigration, get my luggage, and find myself the Underground, Piccadilly Line to Covent Garden. Gripping my passport like a life preserver, I made my way - eventually finding the right que for foreigners and presented my identification to the surly man in the booth. "What's your purpose in visiting?" he growled. I replied in perhaps a much too perky voice, "To visit friends." To which he looked me up and down and asked, "You? What friends have you got in London?!" Now I know I was looking a bit rumpled and red eyed from my travels, but surely I looked like the sort of person that might have a couple of friends at least. He looked unconvinced, but did let me through in the end.

I was right proud of myself for getting myself and my luggage to the Underground and was soon clickity-clacking my way into London.

Then it was my wheelie luggage that was clickity-clacking across the cobble stones of Covent Garden and down the streets to my hotel. After a quick change in my very tiny, but satisfactory room, I knew that I must fight off the weariness and go take a good wander of my surroundings.

Covent Garden! Teaming with people, overheard snippets of conversation in at least a dozen languages, bits of blue sky and sunshine streaming; I have arrived!

There hapened to be an open air food market going on that afternoon, quite serendipitous as I was starving!

After finding a good people watching spot on the curb, I sat down and scarfed my Buffalo Mozzarella Panini in a most unladylike manner, whilst watching the hub-bub around me. Then it was off to walk the streets and alley ways near by.

I did a fair amount of window gazing, popped in a few shops, but mostly just tried to get my bearings and take in the amazing buildings around me.

I even managed to find a phone shop to buy a temporary phone for use while here, having discovered only a day before I left that my own phone would not work over seas. Alas, no instagramming for me in London!

After a good long ramble, my eyes dazzled and my ears buzzing, I decided it was time for another sit down. This time at an outdoor cafe with a glass of wine.

The Lumberjack agreed, so we sat and watched the evening coming on and discussed our plans for the following day.

Part 2 next week!

A little adventure of my own

Looking down the hallway of The Moore Hotel in Seattle, my room key jangling in my hand, and all on my own...I felt rather adventurous. Perhaps it had something to do with the leopard print carpet. Having just driven three hours through thunder and lightening then arriving to a sunny Seattle, my spirits were high and so were my hopes.

In a very short time I was going to meet up with my friend Tif à la Dottie Angel before the launch of her book later in the evening. A most auspicious occasion indeed!

The launch was held at Assemble Gallery and Studio, a perfect place for a happy gathering. Andie and Emily (proprietors) were so very kind. If you happen to be in Seattle, I recommend stopping in for a look-see.

Dottie's display was gorgeous, no surprise there. It was a fine affair all around, with so many nice folks coming in and staying for a chat and to have their books signed of course.

I met some people of note as well. The wonderful Marjan of CowRoad and I spent some time chatting with Tif's very lovely adopted Auntie! I was also so pleased to meet Janine of UPPERCASE and her family. I am completely in awe of what she accomplishes and the beautiful products she creates.

And of course, the woman of the hour herself was stunning, charming, and altogether the very picture of an authoress of an amazingly unique book!

After a successful night I headed back to my hotel and fell asleep to the hustle and bustle of a Friday night on the streets. The next morning I met up with Tif for a bit of thrifty shopping. I'll have to share my treasures with you next time. Then it was time to drive home.

All in all it was a grand adventure and I feel quite fortunate that I was able to go. Now it's back to work...busy bee you know!

Lola in the City

I am all a-flutter with excitement this morning! I am packing my weekend bag and driving up the road to Seattle to attend my dear friend Tif Fussel's, Dottie Angel Book Launch! I'll be going solo, staying at a hotel and certainly having a lovely time.

If you happen to be around those parts, please stop in and say hello! It is being held at Assemble at 6 p.m.

I will be back next week and I promise to finally get back to The Lumberjack's harrowing tale!

Have a wonderful weekend!

Lola on the town...Part 2

As promised, here is Part 2 of my weekend gallivant about the lovely city of Portland. Today's installment is about my solo jaunt to down town for Little Winter, a handmade market.
Perhaps you are asking yourself, 'How on earth did she get so much free time off on her own, to do as she pleased? No little rascal tugging upon her arm or playing bull in a china shop? No Mr. impatiently shifting his weight from one foot to the other before finally announcing he'll go wait in the car? How can that be?'
Let's just say I owe a big thanks to The Engineer. He took Pony Girl off on other adventures or got her ready for bed whilst I was out and about. I think he saw the glimmer of madness in my eyes, knew that the cabin fever had struck, and very graciously (and wisely) said to me, "Go for it!"

Created by Abby Powell Thompson of Abby Try Again and Chelsea Fuss of Frolic!, Little Winter is a handmade market featuring 20+ artists and craftspeople from Portland and beyond." The market ran for 2 days this weekend.
So, on Saturday I put on my best pair of stripey socks, my good luck necklace, and threw caution to the wind as I headed down town. As I approached the building, I could see that already there was a buzz of excitement and a general milling about. The place was styled beautifully. I wish I could have grabbed a decent photo of the place, especially the black and white gingham curtains...I'm a sucker for a nice gingham you know. The space had a sort of stylized old one room schoolhouse feel. I liked it.

There was so much pretty going on. All the vendors wares were quite lovely and it was nice to see in person and up close, what I have seen only in blog land. For a list of vendors go to the web site and it's on the sidebar.

The item I was most enchanted by, were these wonderful tiny wooden houses with wee plants growing out of them, by my house party.

There were a couple of drawbacks to the market. One was I think, a matter of timing on my part. I went right after opening and the place was jammed. Good for the market but, not so great for one trying to get a good look at everything. I might have been better off waiting till later in the day or, gone the 2nd day. Because it was so tight, I couldn't imagine staying too long.

The other downside, it would have been the perfect outing to have along a friend, an artsy-craftsy gal pal to peruse and discuss with. Afterwards sharing a pleasant lunch and trading our observations. That would have been most nice. Still, I did enjoy myself and I wasn't entirely alone, I brought Nadine the Nikon with me and she took some sweet photos.

Afterwards, I took myself to lunch at one of Portland's most excellent food carts. It was delish!

I have learned that I need to make it a point to get out on the town more often, maybe I can swing it once a month or so. I live in an amazing place and I don't want to take it for granted.

What are some of the great things about your home town?

Lola on the town

Part One
Have I mentioned lately how much I love where I live? No? Then I have been remiss. Portland is one amazing city. Sometimes though, I don't get the chance to go out and see just how amazing; there is a lot going on 'round here! This weekend I decided that it was high time I ventured out on the town to have a look-see at the local happenings.

On Friday night I took myself out to Modern Domestic for their open house. This fantastic place is just up the street from The little green cottage, lucky me. Let me tell y'all about this local gem...actually, why don't I let the folks of MD tell you themselves.

"Modern Domestic is a sewing studio and retail space offering two fully equipped classrooms, a comfortable seating area and a growing community of creative makers. We offer classes in sewing for all skill levels, whether you’ve never touched a machine before or you’re continuing your mastery of the craft. Our classes cover (but are not limited to): beginning sewing, sewing for kids and teens, felting, silk screen, intermediate and advanced sewing." -from the web site

Three lovely ladies from the neighborhood opened this venture together. I am so pleased it's just 'round the corner!

I felt immediately drawn in by the warm atmosphere, the dancing candle light, and the promise of a champagne cocktail.

Did I mention there were snacks?
The building is modern airy loft, clean lines and uncluttered, open space. With this in mind, I was impressed with how they managed to create an intimate feel to the space. A place you want to hang out and chat about bias binding, quilt batting or, the newest bakery up the street.
Clever, non-fussy displays with vintage detail were eye catching and educational.

A shelf with rows of sewing machine feet with descriptive cards telling you "what for".


Along the walls, you can see and touch the finished products from classes they offer. Which led me to make a long 'wish list' of classes that I'm itching to take. They also seem to carry all the best books.

In the upstairs classroom loft they had 'open sewing' available. During the festivities it was great to see some very clever crafty types working away on their projects. The whole atmosphere seems to be one of neighborhood and community. A truly friendly and comforting environment to learn and share.

They offer machines and tools for use while taking classes or for 'open sewing', which is pretty handy I think.

They also had some awesome giveaways...I didn't win but, I know that the folks who did are well and truly chuffed. Modern Domestic puts together terrific sewing kits with all the necessary tools to get you going down the goodly path of handmade. I'm thinking these little numbers would make stellar holiday gifts...for someone like myself for example. I'm just sayin'.

Though I didn't get to stay long, I am really glad I went. It was my first opportunity to really check out the place. They made me feel quite welcome. It was so nice to see my neighbors gathered in this cool place supporting small neighborhood business with heart. What's better than that?

If you live in the area or are planning to be in the area, please go say hi and sign up for a class.

I'll be back on Tuesday with Part 2 of Lola on the town. In which I tell all about Saturday's adventure to Little Winter, A Handmade Market!
Until then, I dare you to go have an adventure in your own back yard.