Weekend pootling

I love that word, "pootling," it is so descriptive, it almost feels onomatopoeic. My life seems not to have been pootling, however, it seems to be whizzing. Whizzing and whirling past me.

Still, there has been enough time for some sock knitting. The yarn is an Admiral R Druck crazy coloured yarn that I probably bought online in a moment of madness. It looks better knitted up rather than still in the ball. It makes me imagine a homestead somewhere in the mid-west. Deserts and oases and fields and livestock.

A panoramic city view for a friend's 30th. I know it isn't old-old, but it is strange to think that we are all turning thirty. Still, the cashiers at the local shop seemed determined to not let me get too complacent at this great age; I was asked for proof of age when buying a cocktail mix there just two days ago.

Which brings me to this rather wonderful quote which was on the wall at Hatchard's, Piccadilly. Excuse the poorly executed phone picture. It says, "Nobody ought to write books before they're thirty. I hate precocity." Nancy Mitford, Wigs On The Green. Good to know I have a little while longer to be precocious then.

Last, but not least, I concluded the shell display in my bathroom, having retrieved a box of shells from my parents'. I believe some of them came from Aden, but that's another story entirely.

A Lake District Adventure

In a brief break from baking, The Kindred Spirit and I took a holiday in the Lake District (like other fashionable people.)

We stayed at High Wray Farm, which I would highly recommend - a lovely B&B on part of the Claife Estate (formerly belonged to Mr William Heelis, husband of Miss Beatrix Potter,) with excellent food, rooms, and an excellent hostess - nothing was too much trouble.

The welcome was warm (as were the rooms, which is always appreciated with Lake District weather!)

We sampled Grasmere Gingerbread and explored as many National Trust treasures as we could, including Hill Top (Miss Beatrix Potter's house,) The Beatrix Potter Gallery (housed in what was Mr William Heelis's office,) Allen Bank (an unusual property where you can touch everything, because only the shell is original, following a fire a few years ago, but the very first tennant there was William Wordsworth,) William Wordsworth's grave (quietly unassuming,) and admired the beautiful scenery of Lake Windermere and its surroundings.

Well worth a visit, and one I hope will be repeated.

Yale University vs. Coney Island

The second set of photos from my trip, (there are many more, but I'd rather tell you about things in the present next time, rather than nearly a month ago!) to make things more exciting, I have decided to only show you black and white ones.

The Old School at Yale University.

The "unofficial" motto - the "official" motto is "Lux et Veritas" (Light and Truth)

One of the colleges - all built in the Gothic style, but ever so slightly more modern.

Now, onto Coney Island. The American School Friend was a little concerned that so little was open and thought I might be disappointed. I was not. I was delighted. No crowds, and empty, "dead" rollercoasters to photograph.

Cyclone - a rollercoaster, which originally opened in 1927

Wonder Wheel price board

Landmarked Pavillion

Boardwalk, pier and shelter.

Thus concludes the American Holiday of 2012.

Radio Silence

It has been rather quiet around here, as I was away visiting the American School Friend in Brooklyn. Then, as so often happens, life suddenly took over on my return.

I thought I would entertain you with a few highlights from my trip (there are many, you may have to endure more than one post on this matter).

Purl Soho - the knitting and stitching shop of my dreams.

Look at all that yarn. (Please excuse interior bluriness, I didn't want to disturb others with the flash, and I was using the point and shoot)

And the wall to wall fabric selection. Oh, be still my beating heart.

And the SoHo architecture. I love fire escapes. I am weird, I know this.

Wait! There's more. Flags, outside the United Nations Headquarters.

A giant Scrabble Board.

And a sad looking horsey outside Central Park. We didn't ride. They looked too sad and were far too pricey.

Next post, we'll compare and contrast Yale and Coney Island.