High Tea at the Lakes

Giving Thanks

The scene in our living room at 1:30 pm.  Before the party.  Five people, three bottles of wine.  Sh*t got real.  

 

 

Because I know everyone LOOOOVES seeing pictures of food, this post is mainly about what we ate last night.  Of course, it's more about the company than the food, but come on...a great turkey is a pretty mean feat.  I was pretty proud of her.  The bird, that is ;)

I didn't take a picture of the amazing cardboard box the turkey came in: it was red (cool already, right?), had a handle, and folded down super easily so it could be disposed of with minimal waste.  I don't think the box was all that necessary, but given that we don't have a car, carrying a 15 pound bird home (thanks to Frank on his bike) would have been a real challenge.  She fit in the oven (one of the biggest issues in our first year of this tradition), and cooked in perfect time.  The kitchen was filled to the brim with humans and edible accouterments.  All in all, a perfect way to spend Thanksgiving.    

Kat's childhood friend who not only lives here, but also lived in Korea (I love a good Korea recap), brought along cookies and roses, "Like a grown up lady", as she put it.  Love.  

I wholeheartedly believe that sage was the reason everything tasted as good as it did.  It reminds me of Nonna and makes my hands smell glorious.  

My favourite outfit of the evening went to Brent, who sported this Northern Canadian-inspired tee, fresh with my-mom-washed-and-washed-and-packed-this-before-I-left-for-England fold lines.  Love.

Obviously a little giggling going on.  We did start on the wine at one.   I brought out about 20 bottles of wine to the recycling this morning.  I think we might all be feeling it now...

As usual, you'll find me in the kitchen (with wicked hair, non?)

Kat was with me ALL night: cooking, cutting, taking stuff out of the oven haphazardly with tea towels, organizing and reorganizing EVERYTHING.  She's amazing.

I'm really sorry I didn't get a better picture of the bird in all her glory, but I'm sure you get the picture.  Quimbles attacked the plate of turkey as soon as it was brought out.  I think the other guys were a bit in awe of his gutsy move ;)

We wound up eating with teaspoons once the forks ran out and on dessert plates once the dinner plates were all used.  Still, it was pretty great.

Twas a good night all around.  

I hope your Thanksgiving was spectacular.  I miss my family now that the excitement and so-many-things-to-do of the day is over.  I hope you're all well xxx

Wild Child - Pillow Talk

SOLANGE - LOSING YOU

Working Nook

Image courtesy of Kvelv

Though my house is pretty great, as I've already written, this room look amazing.  There is a part of me who loves a desk in the bedroom: it's perfect for writing postcards, wrapping presents, and, as tonight it would come in very handy, marking test papers.  Sometimes, though the kitchen is a wonderful, warm, and inviting place to be, a gal just wants to be beside her bed when she's working.  

I'm nearly done the third class set (of four: whoot whoot).  Nearly there...
 

Marking

Image courtesy of Kvelv

I'm at school at 5 on a Friday: unheard of.  I'm marking (blogging in reality), listening to some good music, trying hard to get it all done before Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow.  I have (sorry...we have) about 15 people expected, a turkey on the way, and plenty of wine to accompany the whole lot.  I'm psyched.  

For now though, scatter graphs need to be marked.  Argh.

Robot Koch - Nitesky Featuring John LaMonica

October Plans

Image courtesy of Kvelv

In the interest of being financially responsible and simultaneously committed to my job (we have revision daily in the second week of vacation), I've opted against going back to Canada for October half term (starting the day of my birthday: how fortuitous) and opted instead to go with Steven to an adorable cottage at the Scottish border of England.  From pictures, it looks like the England of my dreams (I feel as though I keep saying this)...thatched roof, white stucco (stucco?  I don't think so.  Stucco is very Florida, isn't it?  Do you know what I mean though?  That white stuff on the outside of English-style cottages...you know what I mean), and wild flowers growing alongside.  

We'll go out for drinks and Korean on my birthday, then embark on the longest drive this Englishman has (probably) ever driven...a whopping six hours.  Can you hear my sarcasm?  Because it's funny super endearing that The English think that's far.  Remember when we drove up to Glasgow on a Friday night for a Saturday morning race in the mud?  Because I do.  I'm SO looking forward to a fireplace, the countryside, being away from Dartford, and really delightful company.

  

More of this, please

Image courtesy of Kvelv

 Some nights I walk by a house whose lights are on inside, windows open, and everything inside looks perfect: food is cooking, work is being done, music is playing, stuff is sort of piled everywhere in an orderly sort of clutter.  I imagine that living in a place like that would be comforting, smell great, and be a pleasure to walk into. 

Tonight, my back blinds are flung open, windows (just) cracked open (as it is rather cold outside), dinner cooking, music like this is playing loudly, and I'm filled with a certain warmth that comes with feeling satisfied, desired, and on someone's mind.  I'll take it.  

In short, I live in that place I so coveted all those long walks in the night. 

 

Living Life

Image courtesy of Laws of Modern Woman

Well, it's happening.  Life is being lived across the pond in way more ways than it ever has.  The bebes are getting older and more charismatic, Leanne and Mark are expecting, and phone calls and emails between myself and my parents are getting fewer and farther between (on the upside, I have Skype on my computer now, so I've been making calls on the regular to my grandparents.  Nothing makes you feel better after a disgusting day like your adoring grandparents.  Even when they call you, "Vecchia" [it means "old lady" in Italian]).  

Hmm...I guess this just means we're all living our lives and my life happens to be here.  It's scary for me though, after spending three years clinging to the notion that I'd be back in Canada indefinitely at some point.  Now I don't need to think about it: I'll be here unless an opportunity at home presents itself that is so wicked that I need to return.  

I'm staying.

And as my friend Jackie would say, that's not nothing.