Sunday, Foodie Sunday!

Photo-documentation of the most excellent picnic that Stef, Julie, and I had this Saturday in Hyde Park. We hoofed over to the Marks&Spencer on Oxford street and deliberated in the food halls over which delicacies would grace our pic-a-nic basket. We finally settled on multi-grained walnut bread, creamy brie, a perfect wedge of Gorgonzola, and cheek-puckering cherry tomatoes and grapes. Plus olives and chips and dip (we ate like queens). Another added perk was an already-chilled bottle of rose bubbly (how great is in-store refrigeration!?)...oh, and PERFECT weather--23 degrees C and sunny...helllls yeah!
All in all a perfect day.
xo

Chumpelstiltskin and the Curse of the Red Tape

Do you ever get the feeling that accomplishing basic tasks (such as--oh, I don't know--getting a phone or bank account) is sometimes FARRR more difficult than it need be? In fact, has attempting to accomplish these tasks--that are arguably necessary for life in even the middle lane, not to mention the fast lane--ever made you feel like a complete and utter chump?

No?

Then you musn't have ever attempted to paste together a life in Jolly Ol' England.

I have spent the last few days at the whim of a whole GAGGLE of admin monkeys. Each with an obnoxiously polite way of squawking their demands at me.

"Sorry, Ms. Christie, you'll have to come back with your passport"

"Ooooh, my regrets, Ms. Christie, we're going to need five copies of your grocery list from last week"

"Ms. Christie, I regret to inform you that we will be needing to conduct a variety of brain and body scans in order to ensure that you are not--in fact--a terrorist/android/Jane Fonda impersonator."

Unless you've been in this situation of complete and utter chumpdom, I'm not sure if you can fully appreciate the irritation of having to travel up and down a single flight of stairs between the "registration" and "records" floors in order to gather an elusive piece of photo ID that--much like the Loch Ness Monster-- is rumored to exist but, in fact, does not.

Yes, I am a chump.

But although I've been caught so perilously like a rubber duck at the amusement park in the chump-and-grind of Blighty life, an end does appear to be in sight (don't worry, I have now knocked every piece of wood in site). If all goes according to plan (which it hardly ever does) I should finish today with both a mobile AND a bank account...what a win for the good guys!

No doubt I will again find myself in chumpton, but for the time being, I have escaped the red plaugue. phew.

Penny Lane is in My Ears and in My Eyes...

Hey there lovers, friends, and sports fans!

Welcome to day four of my latest and greatest adventure. Now that the Blog in the Fog is up and running, I'm hoping to post weekly updates, phots, notes, etc. for your relaxed perusal and general enjoyment when you've got the time (or even as a delightful procrastination tool when you don't have the time!)

Cutting to the chase, for the past four days, Penny Lane--that most delightful of Beatles songs--has been on repeat in my brain. While I'm not too sure how keen I am on a fish and finger pie at the moment, the upbeat and quirky tune has held quite a nice thematic thread.

Wednesday night I hopped a plane in Toronto--Penny Lane spinning through my internal 45 player--and had an absolutely fabulous flight. Jennifer, a friend of our fam was at Heathrow to pick me up and we headed back to her home in Surrey. Delicious jacket potato lunch with beans and cheese and tea. siiiiigh...all in all the blue-suburban-skies feeling PL exudes to boot!

After making myself more presentable than sweaty-airplane-Heather was (ew), I got on a train to Central London and met up with Talia at her flat in Kentish Town. Kentish Town High Street is totally a-bustle with fruit stands, fish mongers, butchers, pubs, news agents, and florists...not to mention barbers, bankers, children, nurses, and firemen!

NAP!

INDIAN MEAL!

TOO MANY DRINKS AT THE PUB!

(*side note: the Oxford, just around the corner from Tal's is probably one of the best, least expensive, most well-decorated, and all-around homey gastropubs in which I've ever had the pleasure of drinking--er, sharing--a bottle of wine)

In our travels that night we also met some great girls from a theatre school in Camden--hoorah for new friends!

And the next day? *shudder.

All we could barely manage was a trip to IKEA, dinner, and a James Bond flick on ITV.

Today was better. Breakfast and The Guardian on the terrace at the Cafe Renoir on Kentish Town High Street. I attempted to get a bank account (no luck, Lloyds' systems were down--wah) and back to IKEA for cheap cheap cheap duvets!

Who knows what tonight will hold!

Pasta and Inglourious Basterds?

Salad and Sleep?

Curry and chilling in the shelter in the middle of the roundabout?

Only time will tell....

xo

H