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| East Bay Inn, Bay Street |
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| Savannah's Candy Kitchen |
Afterward, we had dinner at the Oyster Bar and listened to a one-man show at the Cotton Exchange Tavern before wrapping up for the evening.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Thursday night in Savannah
After getting changed, feeding and putting baby Baxter to bed; Will and I continued exploring down Savannah's Bay and River Streets well into the night. Our first stop was the hotel right across the street from ours; the East Bay Inn, where daily tours are conducted throughout. We were greeted by the concierge and even though tour had concluded for the day, she showed us some local history in the welcome area, where we took some photos and continued on our way.
Next we visited Savannah's Candy Kitchen on River St, which has to be every child and sweet tooth's dream! We witnessed the mixing and manufacturing of candy, sampled local delights and after almost an hour of me deliberating what sweets to buy and Will growing increasingly impatient; we left with only one caramel coated apple!
Weekend getaway to historic Savannah
Will's going to South Africa for two whole weeks; but not wanting to loose the title of best-hubbie-in-the-world, he has organised a weekend trip for the three of us to visit Savannah beforehand! I'm so excited! This trip will appease the restlessness within me caused by being in the same place for so long; and it will enable us to spend quality time together... ahh bliss!
We left Atlanta this morning and arrived in Savannah by 3pm: just in time for a horrendous storm that brought hail, a city-wide power outage and lightening that was striking down trees and power lines before our eyes! Once it was safe to leave the car, Will checked us into an ancient and beautiful building on Bay St, which is now the Staybridge Hotel.
We walked all the way from one end of Bay St to the other and then back up Bay St to our hotel to get ready for the evening.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Great mornings at the Green Market
On Saturday mornings between May and October, Will and I like to kick our weekends off with a walk to the Piedmont Park Green Market where we have breakfast. The market vendors are all local farms or businesses and their stalls have something to interest everyone; like organic fruit and veg, fresh meat, hot or iced tea and coffee, sweet and savoury preserves and jams, hand crafted jewellery, Asian and Mexican cuisine, baked goods and a myriad of sweets for desert!
We pick up our coffees, walk around and choose our breakfasts and sit down to enjoy it all at a table right next to the (always upbeat) band. The market is pet friendly so Baxter comes along and lays in the shade under our table, munching on his organic dog biscuit from the "Big Daddy's Doggy" tent.
We pick up our coffees, walk around and choose our breakfasts and sit down to enjoy it all at a table right next to the (always upbeat) band. The market is pet friendly so Baxter comes along and lays in the shade under our table, munching on his organic dog biscuit from the "Big Daddy's Doggy" tent.
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| Photo: ieatsales.com |
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| Photo: piedmontpark.org |
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| Photo: discover-atlanta.com |
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| Photo: sohoatlantablog.typepad.com |
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Box of Memories
Will's aunt is putting her house on the market and has been cleaning it out little by little, getting rid of all the things she won't need, including Will's battle-scarred, childhood chest that he brought home a few days ago.
I spent some of my day off work today cleaning and polishing it up, preparing it for its new role as storage space for our spare bedding. As I wiped and waxed, I couldn't help picturing my husband as a kid; energetic, loud and rough with the world at his feet and all the potential in the world. I wonder if he is happy with the way his life turned out... of course if I asked him he would say that he is, but I wonder if he ever thought his life would turn out the way it has?
Did he ever imagine that he would become a travelling salesman like his father, when he was a boy crying with frustration that his daddy was never home, stuffing this chest with toys? Or when he got to high school and begun filling it with sports memorabilia, trophies, jerseys and collective cards? Did he think he would be so settled down when he became even older and his chest became a storage unit for letters, photos and records of his achievements in the Marine Corps?
I wonder if he thinks that his life has become so predictable and whether he is content with the decisions he has made that have got him to this place in his life... or if he still yearns for more? Like his toy chest that watched him evolve over his lifetime, holding so much within; now standing rather pathetically at the foot of our bed storing pillows, sheets and blankets.
I spent some of my day off work today cleaning and polishing it up, preparing it for its new role as storage space for our spare bedding. As I wiped and waxed, I couldn't help picturing my husband as a kid; energetic, loud and rough with the world at his feet and all the potential in the world. I wonder if he is happy with the way his life turned out... of course if I asked him he would say that he is, but I wonder if he ever thought his life would turn out the way it has?
Did he ever imagine that he would become a travelling salesman like his father, when he was a boy crying with frustration that his daddy was never home, stuffing this chest with toys? Or when he got to high school and begun filling it with sports memorabilia, trophies, jerseys and collective cards? Did he think he would be so settled down when he became even older and his chest became a storage unit for letters, photos and records of his achievements in the Marine Corps?
I wonder if he thinks that his life has become so predictable and whether he is content with the decisions he has made that have got him to this place in his life... or if he still yearns for more? Like his toy chest that watched him evolve over his lifetime, holding so much within; now standing rather pathetically at the foot of our bed storing pillows, sheets and blankets.
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Sweetwater Creek Park
Both Will and I have been working so much that we haven’t had a chance to get anyway anywhere, even for a weekend. Both of us go stir-crazy being cooped up in the city for long, so we take any chance we can to put on our hiking shoes and at least explore places near to us on synchronized days off. Recently we found a place about 20mins away called “Sweetwater Creek Park.”
More than just an awesome State Park with an abundance of wildlife, native plants, awesome walking trails and a river flowing through it, Sweetwater is also home to an incredible historic site: the ruins of a textile mill demolished in the Civil War! Its strong foundation and several skeletal walls still stand on the creek bed, casting a hauntingly beautiful centrepiece amongst the otherwise untouched, wild landscape.
Monday, May 7, 2012
Rainbow flip flops
In Australia they’re called thongs... but here in the States, a thong is something entirely different! Whatever you want to call them; Rainbow’s are the most comfortable flip flips in the world! Will’s worn the same pair since before I met him four years ago and last week he finally converted me into buying a pair. They were tight and painful at first, but Will suggested that I wear them in the shower so that I can get them wet and stretch them out. I always thought wetting leather was a big no-no, but take my word for it: it works!
And do yourself a favour: get a pair of Rainbow thongs (the Aussie meaning!)
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Scarborough Beach
Of all the experiences within my life, few compare to the sunsets on Australia's western coastline. For half the year of 2009, I would try every evening to be by the shore to bear witness to another glorious sunset over the beach. Scarborough Beach.
Prior to moving to Scarborough Beach, I had lived three years in QLD at the base of the Great Barrier Reef; but this new beach had a completely different kind of beauty. Its sand was powder soft and white; its water was sapphire blue with enormous and angry waves and its seashells were types I'd never seen before. There was a raw, untouched authenticity to its shore; where tall grass grew right onto the sand and rabbits would hide - real, adorable rabbits on a beach - nothing else I've seen yet beats that. There were giant pine trees growing at the border line where sand met soil; and Rosella parrots were seen everywhere and heard above beeping horns and crashing waves.
This was our first home; Will and I. A more magnificent backdrop we could never have imagined as we were consumed by our love for each other and took our first steps into a shared life. It was on Scarborough Beach that Will proposed to me - surrounded by rabbits, gum nuts, crashing waves, those annoying parrots; and a setting sun that still takes my breath away just remembering it.
Scarborough Beach was where I met Will's mum for the first time; where Will and I had our first argument; and there in that tiny, one bedroom apartment on Pearl Parade that I cooked our first dinner, paid our first bills, ruined our first load of washing and got my first taste of missing my home in QLD so much, that I stayed up and cried in private while he slept.
It was there on Scarborough Beach that I realised for first time that I would spend the rest of my life with someone, as Will and I sat on a blanket sipping champagne (shhhh, alcohol wasn't allowed!) and watched as the sun set over the beach and that very first, very amazing chapter of our joint life. At times, I close my eyes and I am right there again.
Prior to moving to Scarborough Beach, I had lived three years in QLD at the base of the Great Barrier Reef; but this new beach had a completely different kind of beauty. Its sand was powder soft and white; its water was sapphire blue with enormous and angry waves and its seashells were types I'd never seen before. There was a raw, untouched authenticity to its shore; where tall grass grew right onto the sand and rabbits would hide - real, adorable rabbits on a beach - nothing else I've seen yet beats that. There were giant pine trees growing at the border line where sand met soil; and Rosella parrots were seen everywhere and heard above beeping horns and crashing waves.
This was our first home; Will and I. A more magnificent backdrop we could never have imagined as we were consumed by our love for each other and took our first steps into a shared life. It was on Scarborough Beach that Will proposed to me - surrounded by rabbits, gum nuts, crashing waves, those annoying parrots; and a setting sun that still takes my breath away just remembering it.
Scarborough Beach was where I met Will's mum for the first time; where Will and I had our first argument; and there in that tiny, one bedroom apartment on Pearl Parade that I cooked our first dinner, paid our first bills, ruined our first load of washing and got my first taste of missing my home in QLD so much, that I stayed up and cried in private while he slept.
It was there on Scarborough Beach that I realised for first time that I would spend the rest of my life with someone, as Will and I sat on a blanket sipping champagne (shhhh, alcohol wasn't allowed!) and watched as the sun set over the beach and that very first, very amazing chapter of our joint life. At times, I close my eyes and I am right there again.
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| orbville.com |
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| topboxdesigns.com |
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| accomodationnear.com |
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| sunsetcrystals.com.au |
Monday, April 23, 2012
The half moon manicure
My current obsession is the half moon manicure, as seen on the Christian Dior runway for Fall 2009. I may be slow on the up-take but I think it still works with just about anything, whether casual or chic.
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| This is what my nails currently look like <3 Photo thanks to: manicure-design.com |
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| This is the colour I think I'll do next! Photo thanks to: xoxotrina.com |
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| Or maybe this next...? Photo from: nailsbycarol.blogspot.com |
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Ceramic Wellington Boots
As much as I typically hate getting sick, this time around I am so grateful for this flu which enables me to sit at home on this cold, rainy day; snug in my robe with a cuppa… and just write. The past month has been so busy without a moment to spare for my blog or creative writing projects, but it’s all that keeping busy that enables me to be creative I guess.
Instead of feeling creative though, today my mind is consumed with brooding thoughts and I am very acutely feeling the loss of a person in my life that once meant so much to me, and probably always will. I wonder how many other people loose touch with close friends along the path of their lifetime? Friends that made significant changes in their lives and those who they couldn't imagine living without. I read somewhere once that friends are like seasons: coming and going. That breaks my heart. I wonder if I will ever see my dear friend again, or if she was indeed just like a seasonal flower that bloomed dramatically and magnificently for a season in my life, never to return again.
I often think of Helen. Mostly when my mind is completely free and I'm making myself a cup of tea; we drank a lot of tea together - it was sort of our ritual: I would come over and make cuppas, then we would sit a while on her veranda at the table amidst the haphazard display of antique collectibles. There were those ceramic Wellington boots that stood by the door; the copper watering can always left by whichever plant she had watered last; the bird feeder, full of seed; that ancient and my most favourite church pew; and of course her pride and joy: those many native Austrlian orchids in all manner of pots that she spent hours tending to. That house is the embodiment of the shabby chic home that I suddenly realize has inspired my personal decorating preferences, no doubt longing to feel the warmth, acceptance, happiness and love that I always felt at her place.
We met in 2006, when I had just moved to Rockhampton and my life was in complete disarray. Drawn together by the sadness in both our lives at the time; we became close through our persistent hope for improvement and dual encouragement. Despite time, distance and many vast changes in my life, she remains one of the two closest friends I've ever had. Although we grew apart without saying goodbye, my loss and memories of her make me aware of the kind of friend I want to be.
Instead of feeling creative though, today my mind is consumed with brooding thoughts and I am very acutely feeling the loss of a person in my life that once meant so much to me, and probably always will. I wonder how many other people loose touch with close friends along the path of their lifetime? Friends that made significant changes in their lives and those who they couldn't imagine living without. I read somewhere once that friends are like seasons: coming and going. That breaks my heart. I wonder if I will ever see my dear friend again, or if she was indeed just like a seasonal flower that bloomed dramatically and magnificently for a season in my life, never to return again.
I often think of Helen. Mostly when my mind is completely free and I'm making myself a cup of tea; we drank a lot of tea together - it was sort of our ritual: I would come over and make cuppas, then we would sit a while on her veranda at the table amidst the haphazard display of antique collectibles. There were those ceramic Wellington boots that stood by the door; the copper watering can always left by whichever plant she had watered last; the bird feeder, full of seed; that ancient and my most favourite church pew; and of course her pride and joy: those many native Austrlian orchids in all manner of pots that she spent hours tending to. That house is the embodiment of the shabby chic home that I suddenly realize has inspired my personal decorating preferences, no doubt longing to feel the warmth, acceptance, happiness and love that I always felt at her place.
We met in 2006, when I had just moved to Rockhampton and my life was in complete disarray. Drawn together by the sadness in both our lives at the time; we became close through our persistent hope for improvement and dual encouragement. Despite time, distance and many vast changes in my life, she remains one of the two closest friends I've ever had. Although we grew apart without saying goodbye, my loss and memories of her make me aware of the kind of friend I want to be.
Before I left Rockhampton in August 2009, already a year had past since Helen and I last spoke, but I wanted her to know how much she still meant to me and give her some sort of token of my love and gratitude. The token I chose was a necklace I'd found at a local jewellery store that had a large topaz pendant - topaz was Helen's favourite stone, her birth stone and ironically almost the same shade of blue as her own eyes - but when I arrived at her house to deliver it, she had long gone. I heard that she'd moved to the country to raise baby animals and her son in more serene surroundings. Today, I'm wearing that necklace and holding the pendant it in my hand as I write this, warming it with my touch, while these fond recollections warm my heart. Every time I look at it, I remember Helen's beautiful and honest blue eyes, wonder how she's doing and miss her dreadfully.
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