Sunshine and Greek food and All The Talking

Besty A and I have been mulling over our holiday options this year for EVER.

I kind of actually do mean that, with only a smidgen of exaggeration. Because this year marks our 20th friendiversary, or somesuch dodgy word. We were nine when we first met each other. Two decades of non-stop talking, several thousand 2+hour phone conversations and a few hundred in-jokes later, she's still the first person I call with good news. Or bad news. Or no news at all.

Or when I've bought something I'm not sure about. Or when I'm about to make a decision and it might not be a good one. And once, when I forgot my pin number.

So yeah. Anniversary trip. We talked about so many different options: Japan, South America, Cuba, Egypt, Jordan. At one point, when the finances were looking particularly grim, a tent next to a roundabout in Suffolk (to be fair, that would be a recreation of one of our first, actually pretty awesome holidays).

But, after all that, we're going to Greece. To Kefalonia, to be precise.

Because PRETTY.

Photo credit

Because it's in the budget, and it looks, well, like this.

Because we realised that actually, what we want to do on this trip is hang out with each other and eat yummy food and lounge around and read books.

Because neither of us have been to Greece much (A's been for Crete, I've been to Corfu a couple of times) so it's new to us both.

To keep on track for my 50 books a year target, I need to read eight books on this trip. All recommendations welcome!

Craftaholique

This weekend my friend A hosted what we're catchily calling 'A celebration because R is having a baby'.

And obviously I couldn't let an opportunity to get my hands on some crepe paper, ribbon and cake tins pass me by, so. Behold. 

A whipped up scones and the cutest-looking chocolate macarons, and I went on a bit of a lemon kick, and baked some lemon bars and a batch of lemon curd cupcakes.

And then we scattered a few gold spray-painted animals in among the baked goods. As you do. 

And there was elderflower cordial, and Pimm's, and tiny baby-gros and children's storybooks, and it was both super-relaxed and really special, and my friend K travelled all the way from Bristol for 24 hours to come to it, and, and, and. 

Basically A throws a jolly fine shindig. And one of the best parts about being back in England is that now I get to go to things like this. 

Also. Tiny golden animals MAKE EVERYTHING AWESOMER.

Anyone for (Cornish) cream tea?

There are lots of things that make me happy. Whisky sours. Film trailers. Sleeper trains. Snuggly dogs. Any meal with a side of bacon. Any excuse to hold a celebration.

But high up on that list is Cornwall - and anything Cornish.

And seen as a jaunt down there hasn't quite happened this year, I decided a little bit of baking was in order, especially as it's hard to imagine weather more summery than we've had recently, and equally hard to imagine a food more appropriate for the height of British summer than scones.

Maybe not the absolute healthiest option for a Sunday afternoon tea, but totally worth it.

The recipe is a Mary Berry one, found here. Technically, she calls them Devonshire scones. She also calls the cream 'optional'.

I say: All the jam. All the cream (ideally clotted). Maybe some strawberries. The only thing distinguishing my kitchen from a teashop in a cute Cornish fishing village is the lack of a few thousand tourists.

Happy heatwave!

Amsterdam + blue skies

48 hours in Amsterdam.

Chilled hanging out-time with beautiful Cullock-lady, in the sunshine. With beer and tapas and wandering and ice-cream and lots and lots and lots of talking.

Two days = not long enough.

Flashback

You might remember that back in the spring I went to a bunch of awesome places? Like northern California, and Maui, and Coachella? No?

That's because I went to those places, had an incredible time and then totally failed to write about them, or do anything with the 6,000 (approx.) photos that I took. 

Which kinda totally defeats the purpose of keeping a blog  - you know, generally keeping track of what you've been up to so you can remember it when you're grey and wrinkly. 

So here goes. Sadly, of those 6,000 photos exactly 19 were taken at Coachella. That's because expensive camera + festival + booze = recipe for disaster. So I relied on my phone. And my phone, frankly, is pretty shitty. But anyway, please enjoy the 12 finest of those pictures - I think the blur on stage in the middle left is Nick Cave, but I wouldn't swear my life on it or anything. It could equally be New Order, or even the Stone Roses, although I'm not sure why I would have felt moved to document that set....

This, on the other hand, is definitely (blurry, but still) Nick:

And this flattering picture is me being ridiculously overexcited about that fact:

I totes still these from my friend E. Thanks E!

I know, I know. Guys, form an orderly queue.

Honestly, I'm not sure anyone would benefit from a detailed description of the music we saw - Coachella always has an amazing line-up, and what I loved someone else might bore someone else senseless. But highlights for me included Grimes, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, New Order and of course, Nick (I'd like to think we're on first name terms. We're not).

Basically, imagine an English festival. Then take away the mud, add 90 degree heat, toilets that don't induce a  gag reflex, chuck in  a few million palm trees and a ferris wheel, and boom. Best. Festival. Evah.

Round here (London edition)

Yeah, it's been a while. Sorry about that. I guess life just seems a bit less exciting now I'm settled back into English life/work/pub culture.

Which is not to say I haven't been doing stuff - more just that I haven't felt like taking photos.

:: There have been multiple trips to the BFI (Werner Herzog season? Why, hello there giant lizards! Nice to see you, men singing to pot plants).

:: There has been an emotional reunion with my stand mixer, and a couple of pretty successful cakes, the best of which were Nigella classics - nutella cake and chocolate guinness cake. 

:: While I haven't been to any of the big summer festivals (Coachella kind of wiped out my festival budget for the year - more on that another day), I did make it to see the XX on a very drear, very cold day, and to see the Rolling Stones in Hyde Park on a very hot, sunny one.

 :: There were a couple of theatre visits involving my bestie - at one end of the spectrum, a last-minute trip to see the Book of Mormon that made me laugh so hard I think I may have caused permanent damage to my stomach muscles. At the other, an outdoor performance of a Midsummer Night's Dream with a Puck so awful that - actually, I don't even know what to say. Words fail me. (The rest of the cast, on the other hand, were great).

:: There has been some hanging out time with two of my favourite babies, one of whom is now pretty much a full-on toddler with a mightily impressive vocab, and the other an adorable 11-month-old who's already walking and talking and proving correct my suspicions that he's a total smarty-pants.

Now I'm just enjoying - at least as much as a pale freckled person with a dependence on factor 50 sun-cream can - high summer in south London. Roses, picnics, gelato and al fresco drinking? Okay with me.

10 things Clueless taught me

Cher Horowitz, wearer of all things fluffy, swisher of shiny blonde hair, and giver of sage advice, had many lessons for the overwhelmed pre-teen:


1. If a guy is coming over, always have something baking in the oven.

2. No-one worth knowing lives below Sunset Blvd.

3. It's ok to get it on with your step-brother,  - but only if he's Paul Rudd.

4. LA freeways are terrifying.

5. Makeover attempts rarely, if ever, end well.

6. If you get mugged, prioritise your coat over your personal safety.

7. People who have lost everything in earthquake/flood/environmental disaster almost certainly need athletic equipment.

8. High school boys are not where it's at.

9. Walk-in closets = aspirational.

10. Naming your children after former superstars who now do infomercials is clearly the only sane option.