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Twilight is amazing ...

But ONLY because it is so very VERY bad.

I'm sorry but I can't help it. I'm a vampire purist!

Ennui ...

(original, taken 12 December 2007)

The dome glows ethereal in the night, London's own rising moon, the beacon of calm promise.
- A.A. Gill

Snippets of Auckland

The whole set (though there aren't many more) is here.

p.s. I am lacking inspiration lately.

Week Twenty*

Sunday
Orangina and Sauvignon Gris at La Cloche.


Monday
It was a little chilly. Actually, it was so chilly (and, being without a husband who can double as a handwarmer) that I smushed my angora gloves inside my leather ones.


Tuesday
Graffiti on a truck parked on Lambton Quay. Poor sad Haring-esque man.


Wednesday
It took me far far too long to pack.


Thursday
The bus I caught out to the airport was all crazy modern. And the smell of the pleather made me feel sick.


Friday
Craig and I caught the ferry over to the Auckland CBD, walked all the way up Queen Street, went up the Skytower, saw Danny Bhoy on our way back down Queen Street and caught the ferry back at dusk. My feet HURT. But it was a lovely lovely day.
I took this while my sweet husband took pity on me & my blisters and went to get the car.


Saturday
Craig and I went vintage shopping on K-Road (using Amber's Guide to Vintage Shopping in Auckland) and then to coffee with friends and yet? I was not in a good mood all all day**.


&



I lovelovelovelovelove this lens.



* Week Twenty! I'm a little proud.
** Seriously. Look:

I'd say about 23.3 kilos under my eyes.
Sigh.

How I know Craig missed me

Last night, after turning off the lights and whispering wishes for sweet dreams, Craig curled his arm over my side & his head into the base of my neck and lay there, falling asleep.
This might not seem like a lot to most people, but Craig and I do not sleep entwined, arms and legs in a knot of a person.
No no, we can't, we have radically different body temperatures.

During the day, Craig can wander around wearing jeans and a tee-shirt while I need a cardigan, and a jacket. And sometimes also a scarf. Bizarre.
He swears it's because he was born in the desert (UAE) and as such? immune to the cold. I think he's just a robot.
But as soon as the sun dips below the hills and we depart for bedfordshire* all of a sudden Craig requires a duvet during all seasons of the year, and sometimes a blanket as well, whereas I need the window open and sleep below just the sheet. With wet hair. Occasionally, on extremely frosty nights I will use the duvet but most of the time? Our bed ends up looking like this:


The great wall of half-a-duvet built between us.

If (IF) we do end up falling asleep touching, as soon as Craig is completely unconscious, he starts twitching.
I thought it might have just been when we were completely curled together but I experimented (hee) and even if I leave one arm lying over him, or a hand, ONLY THE AREA I AM TOUCHING BEGINS TO TWITCH.
Craig's subconscious hates me**.
He often accuses me of stealing all the room in the bed. But actually? what happens is I scoot closer to him (I tend to get cold after a while, usually around 2am, what with the wet hair & open window & sheet & all) and he subconsciously scoots AWAY FROM ME. Hateful.

And on top of the heat differences, and the twitching, and the scooting? I can't stand feeling anyone's breath on me while I am trying to get to sleep. Not even my own***.

So last night, pretending like we could sleep in a knot? I knew that Sir C did miss me as much as I missed him.
We lay for minutes and pretended like we were falling asleep, pretended we were in the movies, but we can only be ourselves****, he gave up & I let him leave, his breath had been damn distracting. I snaked my feet over and rested them against his calf. The one thing we can manage. Our connection through the night.


* Yes. I am a whimsical character from 1950s Britain. Why do you ask?
** I'm sure it doesn't really.
*** Good Lord we sound crazy. Is it just us? How do YOU sleep?
**** I wouldn't have us any other way.

I'm sorry but Craig has been in Auckland since Sunday and I flew up this morning to join him.
So, even though he may be in the garage getting his hands all greasy, right now, the only thing I heart is this man:

I hate it when I forget to publish entries!

January 13th 2008

San Francisco


Kat, Craig, and I are still on the bridge






Kat with Alcatraz to the right and the City to the left.

She is also excited because .... we are no longer on the bridge!

Week Nineteen

Sunday
I baked beer bread* and it was delicious!


Monday
I wore my horse belt to work. It amused me all day.


Tuesday
Consumerism ahoy! Nylon & Starbucks.


Wednesday
I'm so predictable. Another vampire fang necklace.


Thursday
A disarmingly cold day, blue sky & reflected clouds.


Friday
Cute bicycle in the bucketing rain. Equestrian helmet strapped to the back.


Saturday
DIY Studding!


&



I went against all advice and ordered the least popular frames (poor lame puppy) though my Mummy-dearest thinks that it's my ridiculous photography not the ridiculous glasses that caused the dearth of votes.



*Beer Bread, so so easy.
3 cups self raising flour, 3 tbsp sugar, 1 can of beer
1. Preheat oven to 200*C.
2. Combine all ingredients, mixing well.
3. Pour into a 9 x 5 x 3-inch loaf pan and bake for 1 hour.
4. DONE!

Mother's Day in food & photographs

Cerise en Kirsch & 70% Chocolate Truffle


I would marry my new lens if it was legal & if I didn't love Sir C so much.


Botticelli Mama as we drank Chai Lattes


Orangina & Sauvignon Gris at La Cloche






J'adore La Cloche.

Framed with a heart

It's Mother's Day in New Zealand & we're taking Mummy-Dear out to lunch.
Even though she loves her online daughters more*.

* She doesn't really**.

** Well, perhaps she does wish that we would have our adult search filter set to medium in real life more often.