Twas the night before FauXmas ...

Oh Fauxmas tree, oh fauxmas tree
How plastic are your branches?



Quite. Very.
Entirely even.



This year Craig and I are spending Christmas apart.
During our time in New Zealand, I'm spending a little extra time avec ma famille and Craig is spending a little extra avec ... sa famille (sa? son? aucune idée. Je pense que c'est "sa"). And sadly, the only time that really made sense was over Christmas.
We've done this before! and while I miss his little face so much it hurts, we cope.
The last time we spent christmas apart, we celebrated with our own little christmas just after ... the 27th. And it really really wasn't the same.

So this year!! we are celebrating on the first of December! When everyone is just gearing up for Christmas and not worn out by it all. The lights are still sparkly and trees and icerinks are going up all over the city.
There is a huge christmas tree at the top of St Peter's hill, infront of St Paul's. And it is cold. Really really cold. The other night as I was walking to the tube station I saw fresh roasted chestnuts being sold. I mean, come on London, try and be a little charming.

Oh and because I amuse myself altogether too much, I called it fauXmas. Hee.

We have a fauXmas tree and fauXmas presents and we're going to spend the whole whole day together.
Maybe walk along the Thames, go to the market, maybe go to Hyde Park to see the Winter Wonderland.
Maybe just spend all day in bed.



p.s. Yesterday was one week until our trip. And today marks the 30th and final day of na-blo-po-mo. And I posted every single day.

Oh that's right! I have some not-too-exciting news!

The other night, Craig reminded me of some not-so-exciting news that I have. Adorable man, sharing my tiny internet victories like they're actually news.

Schmap.com (dynamic, integrated travel guides!) chose 4 of my photos for their online travel guides. 2 for Melbourne and 2 for Auckland.

I'm not just being annoying and self-deprecating. I would be much much more excited if they'd chosen photos that I actually liked. (Just kidding photos, LOVE YOU!) Rather, there are other photos of mine that I prefer.

Plus, the excitement has paled. I found out that they were shortlisted over a month ago, and that they were included, maybe a week later.
Mr Procrastination is my best friend.




www.schmap.com

Who am I kidding? I'm thrilled.

The little one. She looks like she knows things.

I walked into the bedroom last night and found Craig thumbing through my copy of Belle de Jour.
I asked him what was up.

Craig: A* said it was the most fithliest** book he's ever read.
Me: Oh yea? Did you say my wife has a copy of that?
Craig: No, didn't think of it.
Me: Ach, baby! come on, I'm trying to get a reuputation here!***

* A = co-worker
** No I didn't correct him. Yes it hurt a little.
*** Hi Mum! Totally kidding. Totally.

The lock of love ... is in your eyes ...

In early August I came across a news story about the Ponte Milvio in Rome.
Apparently, spurred on by a best-selling book then a movie, lovers were writing their names on padlocks, chaining them to a lamp post and discarding the keys into into the wine-dark Tiber below.

The oldold bridge was being weighed down by thousands and thousands of locks. Lamps were crumbling under the weight and nothing could be done, lest the officials in Italy be seen as anti-love. And one could not have that.
Finally the officials placed six steel posts on the banks of the Tiber, and provided chains for the purpose.

A few weeks after the article was in the papers, I noticed padlocks appearing on the Millennium bridge.
They lasted quite a while. But they aren't there now.







Our Love is Infinite.

Reason 146927 I love my husband

I have Let Go by Frou Frou set as my alarm tone.
The lyrics are drink up, baby down but I always end up stopping it before the intro ends.
As Craig is leaving me, sleep soft & crotchety, he always says ...
Wake up, Babydoll

I prefer it that way.

Treguna Mekoides and Trecorum Satis Dee

Today? A confession.
If I'm trying to calm myself down and just stop thinking about something my mind has decided to obsess about I mutter to myself, over and over and over:
Self-Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus
It works surprisingly well, especially if I am walking at the time.

p.s. It's falling into the final week of NaBloPoMo and so far, fingers crossed, I have posted every single day.
It's a tumbling tumult now into the final week (ish) before we leave on our trip.

My face felt ... crispy

Wearing a sequin beret (me) and many many layers (both of us), Craig and I ventured out to King's Cross St Pancras for an outdoor parade and circus.

Following signs and the frost of our breath we met with hundreds of others in a back road where we were joined by an orchestra and fantastic lanterns.







The raggedy wrapped up crowd all fell in beside and behind the lanterns and tubas and we processed (we WERE the parade!) round the roads to where the high-wires and wheel of death were set up.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Mesdames et Messieurs, Dammen unh Herren ...











We listened to a small hip-hop concert, transcendental french hip-hop and painfully obvious community centre uplifting lyrics hip-hop.



And then! and then there were the tissue performers. Lovely.













Here's a video!!



After two hours standing outside in the freezing cold our two-layers of everything had served us well. We made our way to a noodle bar (Chop Chop!!) by the underground and I was shocked at the puff of cold air that escaped from my handbag as I put my gloves away.









And by Sequin Beret? I mean Sequin Beret.



(Craig hates it. I lovelovelove it)