A night in Henley

I had forgotten how enchanting England can be. I know it sounds melodramatic as I do live in England, after all. But I had - really. London, you see, doesn't feel like England but rather like a country of its own. Not just because it is diverse, but because it lacks that quintessential English quality: sweet little shops, period property, footpaths... I can't put my hand on it. That lovely Englishness that Henley embodies. I know that not all of England is like this, but it was nevertheless lovely to be immersed in it for a short while.

When I lived in Oxford I revelled in the fact that I could cycle everywhere. I loved the little pubs and shops, the river, the accessibility to the countryside. I loved it all so much that on my last cycle ride in Oxford after my finals, coming down the passage behind New College towards Magdalen Bridge, I had tears in my eyes. Yet life has moved on and, typically, I've hardly been back since.

So when Marc said he'd booked us a night in Henley (which is in Buckinghamshire, not Oxfordshire, but is close) I was really excited. I knew that it would bring me back to the Oxford days which I loved so much, to scenic cycle rides, to being able to walk all over the city, knowing every nook and cranny.

We were only in Henley for the evening: we arrived at 6.30 and it was pitch black. We walked around the pretty town - it's so small! Then we went for dinner at a wonderful French restaurant. We ate three delectable courses there... and remembered how it is possible for eating out to be an experience rather than just a means to an end. There is more time outside London. At home when we go out for dinner it is 'to eat' not 'to dine'. And there lies the difference.

The following morning we took another little walk and saw the beautiful river. We had a yummy breakfast at Maison Blanc and off we went, back to London.

It was a short break but a lovely one. I would like to make more trips in England. I hardly ever do, we always go on holiday abroad, but so many special places are literally on our doorstep that it's a shame not to. So there's one New Year's resolution to add to the list!

Our hotel

Look at the river!
I loved this antique chair, and Marc refused to be photographed...
Henley at night - look how dark it was in the early evening
The hotel had used this tiny space as somewhere to sit. Can you think of a better word than 'enchanting'?

Invitation mock up

I've been working on these on and off for months now and suddenly I find I've made 80 pocketfolds.... I hadn't noticed the progress I've been making. It's true: making your own invitations takes a long time and comes with its frustrations (when you get stuck, mess things up, waste supplies) but the outcome is so incredibly rewarding. Depending on where you live making invitations yourself can save you a lot of money. In London I was quoted £800 for invitations, RSVPs and thank you notes and mine will come out at about £200. Mostly, though, it's pretty special to know that you have something unique and made by you. That's priceless.

I've just completed the mock up for the front of our invitation, now that the personalised stamp I ordered from Etsy has arrived. I love it!

I'm definitely going to put up instructions at some point, but in the meantime I wanted to share this picture.

Invitations invitations invitations

I've been working on these on and off for months now and suddenly I find I've made 80 pocketfolds.... I hadn't noticed the progress I've been making. It's true: making your own invitations takes a long time and comes with its frustrations (when you get stuck, mess things up, waste supplies) but the outcome is so incredibly rewarding. Depending on where you live making invitations yourself can save you a lot of money. In London I was quoted £800 for invitations, RSVPs and thank you notes and mine will come out at about £200. Mostly, though, it's pretty special to know that you have something unique and made by you. That's priceless.

I've just completed the mock up for the front of our invitation, now that the personalised stamp I ordered from Etsy has arrived. I love it!

I'm definitely going to put up instructions at some point, but in the meantime I wanted to share this picture.

The small things

I can't believe that the wedding is now less that 6 months away... it feels so soon all of a sudden... it's really crept up on me! The big things will be fixed when we go to Israel, but I am dealing with the small things. The small things for our wedding and for our life together.

Marc is sometimes surprised by how much I care about the small things in life, but I really really do. I know that every bride says she won't preoccupy herself (and drive others mad) with small things and that almost every bride does end up succumbing to weddings perfectionism syndrome, but my preoccupation with detail extends to my normal life as well.

One such detail is my mug, which is what brought on this conversation in the first place. I have a mug that I love to drink from. I've had it since I was 11, and it was given to me by a school friend that I've sadly fallen out of touch with. I love her though, and the mug reminds me of her. It's rather large, which makes for large cups of tea. It's probably not the most attractive mug, to be fair. It's hand painted, with a pig on the front. But I love it: I've been drinking from it for 15 years.

It can't come to our new home with us, sadly. It's not kosher - we will need all new crockery. Also it depicts a pig. Hardly appropriate for a kosher home! I've pondering this slightly, because it's hard to let go of those familiar things that have made up our surroundings for so long. There will be many such things I'm sure.

My post wedding life will be full of new things that will surround me, new attachments, new habits.

For now though, I've found a replacement for the mug at least, and here it is. From English crockery designer Emma Bridgewater. I think it's perfect!

The small things

Marc is sometimes surprised by how much I care about the small things in life, but I really really do. I know that every bride says she won't preoccupy herself (and drive others mad) with small things and that almost every bride does end up succumbing to weddings perfectionism syndrome, but my preoccupation with detail extends to my normal life as well.

One such detail is my mug, which is what brought on this conversation in the first place. I have a mug that I love to drink from. I've had it since I was 11, and it was given to me by a school friend that I've sadly fallen out of touch with. I love her though, and the mug reminds me of her. It's rather large, which makes for large cups of tea. It's probably not the most attractive mug, to be fair. It's hand painted, with a pig on the front. But I love it: I've been drinking from it for 15 years.

It can't come to our new home with us, sadly. It's not kosher - we will need all new crockery. Also it depicts a pig. Hardly appropriate for a kosher home! I've pondering this slightly, because it's hard to let go of those familiar things that have made up our surroundings for so long. There will be many such things I'm sure.

My post wedding life will be full of new things that will surround me, new attachments, new habits.

For now though, I've found a replacement for the mug at least, and here it is. From English crockery designer Emma Bridgewater. I think it's perfect!

A room of one's own

I haven't been doing much on the wedding front lately, I suppose because there have been other more pressing things to get on with. Like interviews (which thus far haven't yielded anything - and that's getting me down) and appointments for Dad. But I'm looking forward to getting back into it - I have missed my crafts! The thing that's irritating me a bit right now is that they are taking up the house. I try to keep them compact, but it's very difficult.

Virginia Woolf wrote 'A Room of One's Own' to say that 'a woman must have... a room of her own if she is to write fiction'. She argued that a woman also needs personal freedom to create. Her arguments are deeper than mine, and more analytical, but suffice to say that I could not agree more. A space of one's own is a precious thing. Removed from the demands and distractions of everyday life, one is able to reflect and simply 'get on with' the task at hand. In a room of one's own one can think freely. And, not unimportantly, one can consolidate all the craft stuff spilling all over the house.

I long for the day when I have my very own craft room: a place in which I can organise all my goodies, that I can decorate to my taste and to which I can retreat when I need time to just think and be and create. How heavenly it will be!

Have any of you seen the book 'Where women create'?




It's a gorgeous book about the ways in which different women have organised their craft spaces. Very inspiring. Here are some that I like. Where do you create/read/retreat?

Diabetes

Dad was diagnosed with diabetes a few days ago. He wants it to be kept very quiet, but it's hard for me not to talk about it and hardly anyone who knows him reads this blog. Diabetes? Not a big deal, everyone says. After all, so many people live with diabetes and live with it well. And I know that, believe me, I do. Except it's still a big deal. A really big deal.

It's a big deal because food is Dad's passion. It's his life. He loves to drive around town and find the best restaurant for this and for that, bringing home treats to the people he loves. Freshly baked baklava one day, fresh mint another... He is adventurous and has a love of life. And this? This is going to stifle him, keep him indoors a lot more, prevent him from being impulsive. Life with Dad as I know it involves him cheekily pulling up to a McDonald's for ice cream only (he loves that whipped stuff) and hungrily eating it in the parking lot. Going out for fun, informal meals. He is a great partner to share any fun treat with. And that independence and fun, that's over. Because from here on out it's not smoked salmon sandwiches for breakfast but porridge, no spaghetti for lunch (because of the high gluten content) but grilled fish. I think it's going to be hard for Dad to adjust and sadly my mother lives in Israel and can't help. I'm definitely mourning the lost fun and spontenaiety. The realisation that life from now will be different, that one of my Dad's loves has been taken away, makes me very sad.