March to the end of the year

Yesterdays shit hot weather made me think about last summer.
This time last year, Appleheart,  KB and I were on a plane on the way to London, where we remained (more or less) until February 2016. KB was four months old and we were all pretty raw from the experience of either having looked after a baby for four months or having been a baby for four months.
We were excited and daunted AF (as the kids like to say these days). I love London, and was pretty delighted to be going there. But being away from home with a new baby was going to be tough. And it was going to be cold. Cold AF (as the kids like to say). We were going to miss most of summer and though I was happy to be going away I was not happy to be missing summer. With the benefit of hindsight I can say boy was I right, missing summer is a bunch of bullshit. We made the most of the cold and had some truly excellent cold weather days. Several times taking long walks through London and then stopping off at cosy pubs to drink mulled wine and/or Guinness spring to mind. London is so good at cosy pubs. Walking along the coast in Lands End, in Cornwall, in very wild weather which looked a lot like the pace Dumbledore went to find a horcrux and shit got real for him. There were also the walks through snow in the Swedish countryside and the time it snowed overnight in Copenhagen then the sun came out and we went for a jog around the cemetery. I remember that because it was the only jog I did in three months and I nearly puked all over the fresh white snow.
Look, it was pretty fantastic, really.
And now I'm in a tight spot because the point of this post was to highlight that the lead up to the end of the year is always so mental, and last year I missed that, and so ended 2015 in a state of relative calm, which was the silver lining to missing out on summer.
But maybe I've just discovered that missing summer doesn't even need a silver lining. I missed something great but I had something great. It was just great.
Wow.

Cold comforts (AM)

I unpacked my case yesterday, something I had been putting off because I couldn't face spending any more time with it. The mountain of shit one has to lug around when traveling for 2.5 months with a four month old baby is eye watering. It makes days spent in transit deeply unpleasant. 

Every time we moved cities I had to repack that fucker and doing so was a reminder that travel was imminent, and therefore deep unpleasantness was imminent. The time, after Appleheart had been in Munich for three days, I had to pack my bag, Appleheart's bag, KB's bag and portacot, clean an entire apartment while keeping KB entertained then travel across London with all bags and KB in order to meet Appleheart at a car hire place so we could drive for six hours down to Cornwall stands out as particularly effed. Though I was in no hurry to go near my case again, I'm glad I've done it and now it's finished I feel quite a bit lighter.

Unpacking meant putting away my favorite cardigan.

It's a woolly number that I got from Alpha 60 a few years ago. It's super warm and served me very well during those cool northern days and nights. 

But it also served another purpose. Because it's pure wool, it pills like a motherfucker. I hate pilling. But I love getting rid of those tiny little wool balls. I find it soothing, relaxing and comforting. And it's perfect activity for occasions like the time we drove to Cornwall in the rain over six hours and I had to sit in the back seat to ensure l was able to put KB's dummy back in his mouth whenever it came out and avoid extreme hysteria. 

Look at all those grubby little balls! It kept me going for hours. And almost as soon as you wear it after de-pilling it, it gets covered in pilly bits again. It's a gift that keeps on giving. I guess i'll have to find a more seasonally appropriate source of comfort now. 

Something stinks (AM)

Here in old blightey, you cannot watch tv for five minutes without seeing an ad for perfume. I guess the perfumiers of the world are counting on the English being unimaginative at Christmas. Or maintaining that grand English tradition of having one shower a week during winter, but perhaps being a little self-conscious about it and wanting to cover up their stink. 

Perfume ads are uniformly idiotic. There is one where Charlize Theron wears a lot of gold and climbs up a large swatch of gold fabric hanging from a gold ceiling. You may have seen it and thought it was idiotic but believe me, it is the least idiotic of them all. May I recommend you have a look at this one, for Paco Rabanne's Invictus fragrance, which is both idiotic and objectionable.

Or this one for Lancome's la vie est belle fragrance, in which Julia Roberts casts of the diamond shackles that are keeping her and everyone at a very fancy party from being themselves.

I could go on and on. 

These ads really cheese me off and whenever I see one (every five minutes, basically) I get annoyed anew. Except for one which makes me laugh and laugh, because it has a Hemsworth and a wolf in it.  This one is for you Matey! 

Christmas List (PM)

Oh boy. End of year malaise. It's as predictable as inconsistent hot weather throughout the Melbourne summer. I know that I previously spoke about how being on leave and having very few social commitments means I am going to nail Christmas this year, but I'm starting to think that was wishful thinking. I have a pile of Christmas cards that I plan to write and send, but whenever I have an opportunity to write them (i.e. when KB is napping), I find myself fucking around on instagram or some such thing. Today, the sun was out for the first time in ages, and when I caught my reflection in the mirror I realised that I have not been able to see my face properly for three weeks. I've basically been in soft focus for weeks and didn't realise it. So I took today's nap time as an opportunity to properly inspect my face. You know, take a good long look at myself and shit you guys, girl is looking old. Anyway, I'm not really nailing Christmas the way I wanted to. Though I can advise that KB is going to look VERY cute on Christmas day due to a very nifty novelty outfit I bought for him.

Things I've done this week (AM)

Our first week in London was sacrificed on the alter of jetlag. 

This week we've been feeling a bit more normal so have been venturing out for miniature adventures. 

One of the best aspects of this is getting to dress KB up in a variety of adorable winter outfits. I constantly have to resist the urge to squeeze the kid very firmly when he is all dressed up for winter outings. 

This is his most tasteful ensemble. It's a race against time keeping it vomit free, but i enjoy the 20 mins or so we get to do that. 

This one alarms me because he looks so grown up in it. 

'Grown up' might not be the right term but you know what I mean. Adults are not kidding when they say kids grow up so fast.

We catch the tube wherever we go, and KB is strapped to my front in a carrier. People practically leap out of their seats to offer them to us. That simply does not happen on the #86 tram. 

We've been to the V&A and Harrods. Usually for a short time, because I don't want to push KB too far. But yesterday we went to the British museum (mainly because it is near a good coffee shop) and stayed all afternoon. It was great. 

Obviously, one can't visit the British Museum without feeling pretty uncomfortable about how all the stuff that is there really shouldn't be there. But 

it's such a beautiful building, so a pretty great place  in which to ponder Britian's history of pillaging. 

We saw the Rosetta Stone and the genuine imitation Rosetta Stone they used to have on display before the rolled out the real thing. Here is the side view of the fake.

'Captured' is a strong statement for something that can't really get away, isn't it? 

Anyway, the rest of the week is going to follow a similar pattern, but with more decent coffee I hope. 

London calling (PM)

I haven't been to London since I was a kid and my memory of it isn't that great. That is to say I have little memory of it, not bad memories. Basically my memories involve Indian  restaurants and delighting in the fact I was where Stefan Edberg lived. So those are two pretty positive associations right there.

I'd quite like to go there again. I hear it has excellent food and museums. But lord knows when that will happen. Europe is so far away and expensive and once you get there there are so many excellent places to visit, would I prioritise one where people speak a boring language like English? With such a grey reputation? But K loved it. And Pickle loved it. So maybe I should prioritise it!

No point worrying about that now though. I'm always promising LB that out next overseas holiday will be Indonesia so I guess I better come good on that one if these days. I hear it has excellent food. 

London Calling (AM)

I'm not sure whether it's annoying for me to constantly talk about these places I am visiting right now. I really hope it's not. I certainly don't mean to be all 'look at me, I'm in this great place'. But when you write a blog about the stuff you eat and see and think about, and all the eating and seeing and thinking about is happening in other places, pretty soon those places are going to come up. It's pretty impossible to avoid.

So here I am in London.  We arrived yesterday and will be here for a bit over a month. It's summer in London. It's kind of beautiful. 

I only came to London for the first time last year, to meet Appleheart for our first overseas trip together. I'd never made it a priority to come to London before because it's London, of course I would get there eventually. Plus, I'd heard so much about London being a bit shit. About how grey it is, how depressing it is, how rainy and dreary it is. No one was saying "London is the greatest, you've got to go to London" like they do when they come back from New York or Berlin or, you know, MONA. People's dampened (ha! cos its so rainy...) enthusiasm, and knowing I would eventually get there, meant London never rose to the top of my list of places to go. Then one day last year it did, so I came, and gee whizz did I love it. I couldn't get over how much I loved it. So many people. So much stuff. Such excellent food. Long long days and so much sun. No one ever mentioned that stuff before*. So I loved it. I really really loved it.

Of course,  I've often wondered since whether it was the greatness of London that I was responding to, or whether I was swept up by the excitement of my first overseas holiday with my squeeze. It was a very exciting time. One of the most exciting ever, truth be told.  

Now I'm here again, I guess we'll find out soon enough. But I have to say readers, the early indications are pretty good. 

*In a way that made me remember...