the ivy

there are no less than a dozen draft posts behind the scenes here on mpc. it's been like that lately. i sit down, start to write and get interrupted and don't come back for days on end. or when i come back, i can't get myself back into the mood i was in when i started the post and therefore can't finish it. so i thought i'd start at the simple end of the posts. with some beautiful food.

i ate this beautiful food (that's salmon sashimi in those top two photos) at the ivy a few weeks ago when i was in london. i'm not sure i realized the significance of lunch at the ivy at the time, tho' i knew it was a posh london club and i knew that a lovely two hour lunch on a friday was something special. and i fully appreciated the wonderful intriguing, interesting conversation that i had with my lunch companion, who is a person i met a few months ago at a conference.

the specialness started to dawn on me when i had to go in through a secret entrance through a flower shop. it was nice, a bit stiff upper lip in decor, but also comfortable. i probably didn't look around me enough to spot celebrities, as i didn't know that aspect of the place at the time. i was too absorbed in the food and the great conversation. but i suppose that's as it should be.

the food was just lovely and the perfect amount of chef-y. pretty presentation, delicate flavors, fresh flowers as garnishes and generally a delight to the senses. especially this delicate lemon dessert, a take on lemon meringue pie. it makes my mouth water all over again, just looking at this iPhone photo.

it was all rounded off by a lovely coffee with latte art. i'm a little bit glad i didn't realize the significance of being invited to lunch in the private club at the ivy at the time, as i might have been overawed and not enjoyed it nearly as much. as it was, it was a lovely, completely engaging experience. one of those where you're just fully in the moment, savoring it. every delicious bite.

and now there are only 11 more drafts to go...

there's nothing like a really great bookstore

london's daunt books in marylebone oozes with atmosphere. it's quiet and was cool on an otherwise sweltering london day. i only had about 10 minutes to pop in on my way back from lunch with the wonderful beth and kristen (where yes, i made them build lego). there are tables heaped with inspiration for what to read, beautiful papers to select and take home, gorgeous old wooden floors interspersed with tiles, inviting chairs and an enormous curved window. i would love to have spent the rest of my afternoon there. but alas, i didn't. instead, i grabbed, without thinking too much, a few books from the delectable displays, feeling a bit like i was choosing macaroons in a fancy bakery. vasily grossman's an armenian sketchbook, audur ava olafsdottir's butterflies in november and one mistake, a pretentious crime novel called don't point that thing at me by kiril bonfiglioli, which i selected due to an attractive cover and an endorsement on said cover by none other than stephen fry (a mistake i made previously when i bought hugh laurie's atrocious attempt at a novel, but somehow conveniently forgot in the heat of the moment in daunt). the bonfiglioli was an utter waste of time, but i'm 80 pages into the grossman and savoring every word. the icelandic novel waits patiently beside my night table, still full of that mysterious possibility that all books you haven't yet read possess.

i miss bookstores. most of my books these days come from the library (which is awesome, but i do feel guilty writing in their books) or from amazon (mostly work-related), but there is still nothing like browsing a bookstore, especially one as charming as daunt, which i'd oddly never visited before on all my trips to london. it had a library-like hush and atmosphere that i breathed in during the few minutes i was there. the clerk behind the counter, with wrinkled shirt and ruffled hair, looked as if he'd just roused himself from a book to wander over to wait on me. he placed my purchases into a reusable cloth bag (not the green one, i didn't manage spend that much in 10 minutes) and i regretfully went on down the street. we just don't have any bookstores like that in my part of denmark (there are a couple still in copenhagen that fit the description, but i visit them far too seldom) and i miss them. we can do a lot on the internet these days, but there really is nothing like visiting a really great little bookstore.

london calling

a few blissful days in london. part work, part play. all wonderful. meeting old friends. and new ones. seeing the sights. taking in the crowds and the noise. going to museums. eating new and interesting food. trying on clothes. drinking loads of starbucks. battling the heat. and ducking rain showers (in the gap, of course). tracking down bathrooms (after all that coffee). it was a full (almost) week.

landing from travels, even if they're only a time zone away and a short hour-long flight, always takes time. processing. finding your feet again at home. settling into the old rhythms after the disruption of another place. but disruption is good and healthy and shakes you from your complacency. it gives you a different view of the world. makes you appreciate home a little bit more. and tho' there are mountains of laundry to do, i'd rather just sit for a little while with a cat in my lap and absorb it all. i really did miss those cats.

guess where wonder woman and i went?

a fantastic weekend in london. a bit of shopping (mostly involving me sending photos to the child to see whether she wanted various items - what did we do before iMessage?), hitting some bookstores (the wonderful foyle's and an enormous waterstones near picadilly), walking with lizzi (you may know her from many steps sideways and do go check her blog, as she wrote about our day much more pithily than i will) until our feet were nearly bleeding, some legography at big ben and parliament square, lunch, starbucks and a last-minute inability to stop myself from going into the gap (like google, apple and the new york times, they just get me). all of this and glorious sunshine, cherry blossoms in full bloom and a surprisingly delightful stay in a little radisson blu edwardian just off oxford street, not to mention a workshop and meeting some really wonderful lego enthusiasts who were generous in sharing their ideas. in all, it really couldn't have been a better weekend (except that my feet are still a bit reluctant to speak to me after i subjected them to nearly 12 hours of tromping around london in doc martens (so much for those cushiony air soles).

i know i've been a bit absent here in the past week. i was fighting off a cold and that left me zapped for energy.  plus i've been reading a good book (popco by scarlett thomas) and watching a few too many episodes of fringe. but i can feel that i'm missing my daily writing! blogging is, after all, cheaper than therapy and nothing else quite does the trick for keeping me sane like sending all those thoughts which tumble around in my head out my fingers right here in this blogger compose space. so i hope to be back on form this week. for all of our sakes.

oh, and catwoman had to come along too and see the london eye. she nearly blew off into the thames, but i grabbed her in time. that would have been a tragedy.

* * *

and speaking of tragedy, 

i can't get enough of the story of the lost malaysian airlines plane.

what do you think happened?

will they be found safe and sound?

and where are they?

isn't it a job for james bond at this point?

or maybe for catwoman.