‘Twas a merry Christmas in Cox Quarters.
Much love to you and yours.
Xox,
Kate & David
Monthly Archives: December 2012
Christmas in Cox Quarters, Part 1
Today, I’m decorating… finally. Some jazzy tunes are floating through the flat, tea lights are twinkling, and David and I are snacking on minced pies and sipping red wine. It’s quite nice.
And yet, there’s still so much to do, so much to reflect upon, so much to be thankful for… We’re incredibly blessed to be where we are, we’re thankful for the gifts we’ve been bestowed with this past year, and we’re looking forward to a low-key Christmas and a few days of peace and laughter to recharge our batteries and launch into 2013 with the force of 10,000 ninjas.
Have a tremendous weekend, my friends, and I’ll see you back here on Monday. xo
Cereal
Today, dear reader, I would like to introduce you to my newest must-read, the completely gorgeous quarterly magazine, Cereal. Full of captivating imagery, interesting articles, and even a few mouth-watering recipes (and, might I add, no ads) the magazine has me flipping through the pages time and time again.
The magazine’s strap-line says it all, almost: “In pursuit of food and travel,” but also, I think, in pursuit of community. Intellectual community, creative community, and a vibrant global community united through the shared love of food, travel, craftsmanship and beauty. Editor Rosa Park brings focus to the world around us, highlighting delicious details like those found in the simple, yet lovely, multi-purpose handkerchiefs by -Cheif or those being uncovered by the team of diverse food enthusiasts at the Nordic Food Lab. Articles teach us about the many varieties of carrots and take us on a walk through one of the most cherished arboretums in all the world. The magazine is truly a delight for the senses and is a publication that deserves a prime spot on any coffee table or bookshelf. I cannot recommend it enough.
For those of you scrambling for last-minute gifts, a subscription to Cereal would charm most any reader interested in food, travel, and thoughtful design, and at £35 for four issues, I feel a winning gift is but a click away.
If you’re of the ilk who would prefer to purchase your copy in the flesh, I bought mine at the gift-haven, Magma Books, in Clerkenwell (seriously, there’s a book or magazine for anyone and everyone there), but if London isn’t convenient, you can check out their other stockists located here and there throughout the globe, too.
xoxo
Tuesday With Moi
The toaster snapped and the toast popped up.
Funny, this life, she thought as she took the butter from the fridge.
A day and a night all on my own. She hadn’t been alone for twenty-four hours in over seven months and the idea of being a single lady for the evening was quite appealing.
What’s a girl to do?
She drummed her fingers on the table and read an article about Bill Murray instead.
She felt silly, too. Small. Humble. Kind of pathetic.
The box from the gifts her family sent sat on the floor. She’d heard somewhere that cats, like children, enjoyed playing with boxes, but Le Chat had shown no interest in this one.
She lay diagonally on the bed, covering as much of the surface as her body allowed.
I’ll be better tomorrow, she promised herself. She closed her eyes and lay quietly, waiting for sleep.
The End.
I hate to hate, but I hate.
Everything I’ve tried to write since Friday sounds clunky and inconsequential. Either too trivial or not enough- not strong enough, poignant enough, insightful enough. I’m angry, too, and as everyone who’s ever written anything out of anger knows, angry words lack the clarity they need to open minds and warm hearts.
I hate what happened in Newtown. I hate that it’s more difficult to get a driver’s license than it is to get a gun in the States. I hate that children have another reason to dislike school and that safe places cannot be guaranteed. I hate that the technology available to us and our cultural lust for never-ending content, rather than quality, has sullied facts, rushed reports, and damaged additional lives. But most of all, I just really hate that this happened.
My thoughts and prayers go out to the nation and my votes will be with law-makers who support stricter gun control, advocate for the health and care of the mentally ill and don’t want to fight violence with more guns, more violence.
I don’t bring up political issues often in this space (though I find this particular case to be a human issue rather than a political one) but my silence on the topic isn’t because I don’t care and tomorrow, when I go back to posting about other things- less important things- it’s not because I’ve forgotten. I will never forget. Promise that you’ll never forget, too.
Let’s make this world a more beautiful place, a safer place, a better place.
Read Books [shop local]
Two things before we all embark a weekend of holiday shopping and merriment-making:
ONE: I read this article about Karen Hayes and Ann Patchett’s indie-bookstore and, you guys, I cried. Happy tears, wet face, shoulders shaking, all that. The bookstore is called Parnassus Books and if you’re ever in Nashville, you should check it out. If you’re somewhere else in the States and want to buy a book for someone, please buy through your local independent, which you find find here.
If you’re in the UK and have any great independent bookstore recommendations, I’d be delighted to hear them! I’ve found a couple small, specialty shops but I’d love to find others, too! Hobbit Town, sadly, doesn’t have an independent bookstore. Alas…
TWO: I’m off to London in a few hours to spend the evening with my friend Jill and while I’m in the city, I’m going to purchase the first issue of the new- and totally gorgeous!- Cereal Magazine. I have this sneaking suspicion that I’m going to love it.
And for all my Boston friends, if you’re interested in getting your hands on a copy of Cereal, too, my friends at Olives & Grace are stockists. They’re in the South End. Check them out.
Anyway, I must dash. Have a pretty & literary weekend, friends. xo
A Picture, A Scene, A Kitty Cold
“Where are you gonna go?”
He shrugged, kicked his shoe in the dirt until he made a small hole. ”Guess I’ll go wherever I think they’ll need me.”
“But what about this?” With the sweep of a hand she motioned to everything: the house they’d grown up in, the orchard, the wood, the flower beds, and the pool, still glittering in the sun like nothing ever happened.
Again, just a shrug. He glanced at her sideways and she pulled her knees up, wrapped her thin arms around them like they were all she had.
“And what about me? What I am gonna do?”
“The same. Go where you can, find some kind of work. Leave this all behind.”
She let out a sob- just one loud, heartbroken cry that came from somewhere deeper than her lungs, her throat, her mouth. They were silent a moment, listening to the world turning around them, the wind blowing through the trees. She stood with a sigh and walked toward the door. ”We best be goin’ then. Come on.”
For the last time, he followed.
Everyone in our house has a cold. Me, David, Le Chat. Can cats get human colds? I don’t know, but she seems drippy and slow like the both of us. Good thing kitty sneezes are the cutest, I guess.
Tuesday With Vous
Sarah Vande Kamp Edition
Thanks, Kate, for letting me be a part of your wonderful blog. It was a pleasure, really so much fun. And it forced me to capture some great things that happened throughout my day. Miss you much xoxo.
MPLS
Whilst working on some linocut prints on Saturday night, David made this. He took a paper cut-out I’d made of the Minneapolis skyline, rolled some ink over it, and then scribbled a park in the foreground and some windows on the buildings behind. It may not be geographically accurate, but it sure does make me smile. I think I’m going to write a story to go with it.
Please know, dear reader, that I left the house today and ‘hung out’ in town and all the while made a concerted effort to suppress my bitch face. It was fine, or whatever. Perhaps I’ll go out again tomorrow. Who knows!
And speaking of Minneapolis, I have another TWV coming your way tomorrow from that part of the world. It shall be very, very exciting!
Can’t We Be Friends?
It’s been a long time coming, but I’ve finally accepted that I’m the only one holding myself back, from, well, everything*, and really, it’s so stupid.
You see, I haven’t made a single friend here in the last seven months. I have friends in the UK, of course, but none here, in Hobbit Town**. I don’t have anyone to invite over for a last-minute meal on a Tuesday night or anyone to meet for coffee on a Thursday morning. No one to go shopping with or with whom I can share a Sunday lunch. Why? Because of me. Because I keep saying, What’s the point if we’re just going to move? but we haven’t moved. We’ve been here for seven effing months. And in those months, I’ve continued to live on American time, work with american clients, and skype with my American friends and family. Which is all wonderful, obviously, but means that I’m not really living here, and that is a problem.
As such, my winter goal is to get out there and meet people, like I used to. Start hanging out in coffee shops during the day and complimenting strangers on their great boots or asking where they get their hair colored or whatever. People must actually do things in this town, and it’s time I started finding what that thing they do is- I need to start living here and start finding a friend. Or two. Or five. And then finding a network. And then world domination. You know…
* Writing, moving my career forward, planning adventures, getting shit done in general, etc.
** I realize that calling it “Hobbit Town” is not going to make any locals shine to me. So I should probably stop doing that, too. Grumble grumble blah.