brain train

A few months ago I was researching a story on keeping your brain young. One of the leading researchers in the field said that one of the best ways to ward off dementia was to learn a language. Apparently, when we learn a new language we engage parts of the brain that have previously lay dormant.

Actually, that's not 'apparently' it's "Damn, parts of my brain that've really remained inactive have been poked, prodded and shocked into action!" Yes, after week three of my French lessons my brain's still spinning. Last week's homework was damned difficult - took me ages - but I did get 100 per cent {yay me!}. This week's lesson? Hellacious. Our teacher expects us to learn something, take it in, and utilise it - but my brain? Not content to work in that way. There are a lot of rules with French words and pronunciation and my single-minded brain likes to work on one thing at a time. If I'm concentrating on how to pronounce symphonie {sah/fo/na} then I'm probably not paying attention to whether the word preceding it is la or le - but I should be - oh yes I should be...

While I got a few "parfait" in my direction last night, I also nearly had a breakdown answering the teacher when she asked me what time it was and I had to answer 6.20. Yes, I was required to remember how to say those numbers in French as well as how to say that it was twenty past... So hard, I nearly cried, and I did eventually get it right - after making everyone else in the class sigh in relief that they'd have to do better than me.

But, while it's hard, it's also utterly fabulous. My pronunciation is really rocketing and my understanding is already massively improved. I feel more than confident that when we're in France next year I'll be able to converse and understand native French speakers.

Parfait!

all by myself

My husband's off on a golfing weekend with his buddies this weekend. A bunch of blokes who've known each other since school will spend time golfing, drinking and reminiscing. Bless.

He leaves tomorrow morning and tomorrow night my gal's been invited to her bestie's house for a camping sleepover with two other gals. Yep, glad I'm not hosting that one! But you know what that means? I'll be spending my first night alone in what must be about 15 years. Goodness!

So I'm going to take advantage of it and take myself off to the movies. Yep, alone. I'm going to see Nine and hope that if I squint through my eyelashes every time Nicole Kidman comes on screen I'll enjoy it.

Who am I kidding - I'll come out all drenched in the urge to be Italian...

greased lightening

When my husband and I met, nearly 17 years ago, we both had very cool vintage cars. He had a cute-as-a-box-of-buttons Morris Minor in British Racing Green and I had a grey and white Vauxhaul Kresta {just like this one with fins, whitewall tyres, red leather interior and hydromatic transmission...}. Such. A. Damned. Cool. Car.

We moved in together after six months and, as we were both at Uni, decided we only needed one car. Sadly, my car needed extensive work so the Morris won. It was a great little car - so damned cute. No seatbelts though so when we moved to Sydney and would regularly drive the Sydney-Newcastle freeway we were totally putting our lives out there.

When I fell pregnant we had to get a sensible car. One with seat belts. So we had to sell our little Morris. Luckily it went to a good home and we sometimes see it tootling around Morpeth up in the Hunter Valley. Nice home.

Now we've both got a craving for another vintage car. A vintage ute to be exact. I saw a gorgeous powder-blue Holden the other day that set my heart-a-fluttering. If our first car's a sensible modern option surely we can have a funky second car?

calling my name

Today I had to go to an outer suburb to buy a part for my car. I had a general idea where it was, but then totally managed to drive past it. So I pulled over, ready to do a u-turn, when I realised that I was directly outside a Lifeline store. Now, I'm not sure if you know this about me, but I think that when a serendipitous event causes me to stop outside an op-shop that's because something inside is calling my name.

And oh boy, was I called.

First of all I found two of these pretty lil cake stands. They're cream, hand-painted with roses and rimmed with gold. Perfect. I'm in love.

So then, I place them on the glass counter, stare below and am socked in the eye with, wait for it, VINTAGE EIFFEL TOWER CUFF LINKS. Yeah baby. And they were only $5. So I hand over $3 each for my cake stands, repress my squeals and hand over $5 for the cuff links and walk out on a cloud of delight.

PS: Husband is utterly chuffed to bits at the cuff links - and now I'm kinda wishing I'd saved them till his birthday, but as if I could keep a buy like that to myself till May. C'mon...

let them eat cake

I think that for my next dinner party I just need to serve up stonking big slices of a pretty cake instead of pudding. Seriously. This pretty, with its lemon curd interior and angel-pillow icing is the type of creation my cream Kitchen Aid mixer will do justice to.

Only thing I need now is a gorgeous milk glass cake stand. Donna Hay General Store - is that you calling my name?

fait accompli

Ha! When you have as many nail polishes as I there's bound to be the shade you desire. I found this - a delicious kit nail polish that goes by the name of switch on. Not only is it a gloriously gunmetalic grey - it's got sparkles and you know what makes me happier than sparkles? Not much! Please ignore my painted-over cuticles - I was in too much of a hurry to push them back and I'm never particular when I paint my nails - so long as the nails are covered I can just run my fingernail around the edges in the shower and any excess comes off.

So happy right now. A spot of colour therapy always puts me in a good mood. And as Sara Rose would agree - one of the quickest routes to a pick-me-up is purdy coloured nails...

colourways

I have an addictive personality - particularly when it comes to nailpolish. See, I'll hear about a shade or a new nail trend and I just must have. So, just now, I'm checking out twitter and hearing about how Marc Jacobs was working backstage offering suggestions on custom-mixed nail colours and mentioned grey.

Guess how much I now need grey nail polish?

I'm now off to rummage in my nail polish basket {oh yes i do} just in case there's a shade of grey in there. If not, I can feel a shopping expedition coming on...

coverlust

I so need this magazine for so many reasons. First of all for putting this utterly glorious woman on its cover, secondly, for Marc Jacobs' wedding story {by his husband - bless}, thirdly, Kate and Andy Spade. It'll probably set me back about 9 million dollars at Borders {if they've got it} but I reckon it's worth it.

Wouldn't it be nice if we didn't have to comment when someone outside the regular model mold was featured. You know, when you expected to see someone unexpected on a cover. You'd think that with the trend for celebrity covers we'd be seeing a bit more variety, but no, it's always variations on a theme...

No wonder blogs are so popular. On blogs there's a celebration of a wide range of diversity. We bloggers get to share images that we love - without worrying that it'll affect the popularity of our blog.

Having worked on magazines I was part of some pretty intense conversations "Not green - green doesn't sell." or "She's got a wonky eye, can we swap it?" {and yes would be the answer to that one...}. Each year a big wig from the UK would come out and address the company with new pronouncements on what worked and what didn't work {green on a cover was always unanimously loathed - which I never understood - I love green}.

Blogging's fabulous because you can share a lot with such an intimate audience and connect in ways you never could in publications. We have the immediacy of comments too which I love. Checking back to see who's said what keeps on driving me through the day. I also love checking out comments on other's blogs - to find new blogs to read {people who give good comment tend to give good blog don't you think?}.

put a smile on your dial

These guys are so freakin' funny.

red hot

I had to feature a pair of Alexander McQueen shoes this week to honour the talent of the man. I adore how the zipper opens to feature a peep toe - and look at the shape of that heel - perfection. The man had a singular eye for unique design and his legacy shall live on in his utterly fabulous creations.

oh coco

Isn't this image totally and utterly parfait? J'adore Audrey Tatou and think she made the ideal Gabrielle Chanel.

my funny valentine

It's Valentines Day, so share the love around. Give a sweet smile, a loving hug, do a good deed and treat yourself nice. Love is all we need x

happy weekend

Happy Saturday! We're off to the nursery soon. I've found that they sell a variety of Hydrangea that blooms all-year-long. It's called Endless Summer and comes in both the traditional mophead and lace cap forms. I'm thinking that the blue will look prettiest against the grey and violet of our house - but we can always change it to pink later if we feel the need.

We're also buying some French lavender to hedge around the garden to the left of our front stairs. We've got a massive murraya in there and my husband's extended the garden so we can fit lavender across the front. Behind it I'm thinking of tall annuals such as foxgloves, cosmos or delphiniums... We'll see what's on offer. It'd be nice to have something pretty to look at while you're walking up the stairs.

What are you up to today? Oh, while I've got you - send out some best wishes to Beth at BabyMac who's having a birthday baking cake-off against her husband - may the best woman win!

l'heure cocktail

The Cointreau Teese

1 ½ oz. Cointreau
¾ oz. apple juice
½ oz. Monin violet syrup
½ oz. fresh lemon juice

words, don't come easy

This image of the shopfront of Repetto in Paris has a tenuous link to the following post - but it's so pretty! I'll be stopping by that store to buy a keepsake for my pretty ballerina when we're in Paris next year... {and now for the segue...} where I shall be speaking fluently thanks to my Alliance Francais lessons.

Ha!

Last night was my second lesson and while I'm still bamboozled by how much is crammed into two hours, I'm starting to gain more of an understanding of the French language. In the past I've tried to learn French for travellers - through books, tapes and most recently, my iPod. But the problem here is that French for Travellers requires rote learning - not one of my special skills. However, with the Alliance Francais I'm learning to speak French - not translate English words and phrases to French - huge difference!

The beginner's course will run for a year, over four terms, and then next year it's onto continuing beginners, then intermediate, then advanced. Long-term commitment huh. But I'm excited by the challenge. I'm starting to understand the vowel sound and where they appear. I now understand how to break up words into syllables and think I've already grasped a few of the basics. Show me a french word now and I'll have a pretty good shot at pronouncing it.

Last night the teacher even directed two "Parfait" in my direction at my pronunciation {perfect, obviously being the highest level of praise!} but I also got a few "non, non, NON!" and corrections with a wry chuckle and a shake of the head. So far my brain's remembering around 80 per cent of the rules - which is an astonishing achievement for someone who hasn't studied for such a long time. But our teacher's aiming for 100 per cent - so I'll do my best.

We have homework every day which I'm devouring like the girly swat I am. And I'm listening to French music such as the parfait Emilie Simon. Better watch out, I'll be checking out the French News before long...

vale

Mr Alexander McQueen, may you rest in peace.

one thousand one hundred and eleven

I am v excited as this is my 1111th post. How cool is that number? So to celebrate, here are some glorious David Austin roses. If you love roses, please, please, please buy yourself a David Austin for your garden. They're gorgeous, they're usually beautifully scented and the range is incredible.

We've got quite a few in our garden: the rich, yellow Graham Thomas {with the lavender border in front}, a delicate peachy pink Heritage {two of those flank our front gate}, rich red Tess of the D'Urbervilles and the gloriously blowsy pink Gertrude Jeckyl.

These are balanced with a very old rose - Duchess de Brabant - the most delicate pink blooms you'll ever see and a bush that never needs trimming {and even thought I'm two blocks from the beach it's never seen a touch of black spot!}. We've only got one traditional hybrid tea - the stunning red Mr Lincoln - so deep that its blossoms almost appear black and with a perfume so heady it makes you swoon as you brush by.

Oh, and I should also be celebrating my blogiversary - which fell on Monday - and I forgot. Damn, such a slack blogger... Anyway, happy blogiversary to me! Two years huh? That's gone quickly...

not want, NEED

This is not my bathroom, but can anyone give me a damned fine reason as to why it shouldn't be?

prom pretties

Ahhh, who doesn't love a fluffy frock? These pretties are going to help me get through the day - hopefully. My gal had her netball grading day yesterday and I foolishly put my hand up to umpire the games while they were grading. An hour and a half later I finally had a chance to rest. Being the sole umpire is tough, there's a lot of running up and down the court and behind the goals. But doing so when you're wearing a skirt and an old pair of havaianas is torture. Today I'm hobbling around like a 90-year-old. Remind me to sit on my hand the next time they call for volunteers...

excitement's building

Of course I'll use any excuse to post a pic of this gorgeous woman, but guess what I just found out? Apparently Christian Siriano is working on costume design on Eloise in Paris. I KNOW!

I loved him soooooooo much in Project Runway, loved what he did with this magnificent frock for Christina - and can't wait to see his creations for this film.

By the way, when I told my daughter the news about the film there was squeeling, little claps, a dance of joy and some tears. That's my girl...