On the road

I’m  heading off to Malaysia to have a week’s holiday with the family, indulging in holiday-ception as I leave Adelaide and crew for a bit of warmth… it seems ironic that I’d leave Australia for warmth but as I’ve discovered,  winter here, isn’t just a casual term that refers to dropping a degree on your AC remote but it actually becomes jumper and woolies weather (but I rest assured with the phrase that I’ve heard about 3 times a day ‘you’ll be alright’ ;) ). Luckily J and I have a cute pair of matching knitted bed socks that his great Greek grandma, or ‘grandma yia yia’ made us, two of the many pairs she’s knitted as she sits back, in all black and observes the world she’s lived in for so long. She sits, content and unreactive to the shrill shrieks of her great grandchildren, the chatter of her grandchildren and the discussions of her own children. The energy of big Greek families is most easily explicable through the movie ‘My Big Fat Greek Wedding’ – the food, the aunties, the sense of community/support, the social dynamic (women sitting on a row of chairs inside chatting or cooking meals while the men cook meat on the bbq or discuss cars…) 

Family dinners

Melbourne

I think the importance of tradition within the Greek community in Australia is exaggerated due to their minority status and similar backstory’s of cultural shifts, strong work ethics and hardship. It’s so lovely being welcomed into it, I feel slightly like a princess goose at a foie gras farm, I’m treated with such care and love while being constantly stuffed to the brim with food. The scales in our bathroom have begun their daily glare as I walk past them quickening my pace and thinking about how it’s gonna take more than a speed-walk to the next room to start the toning…

Food in Australia has been great from the first day I arrived. I had a hunch that gluten-free, vegetarian food while travelling in the west would be tough, but the world’s becoming so health conscious now, every other café you walk past has a ‘gluten free, vegan’ sign, even dominoes does gluten free now. Byron bay was the best for all of that – hippie, healthy, heaven. Yoga every day, beautiful sunshine, long white stretches of sand, sexy surfers, organic orgies and a great crew. It was the most northern point on the road trip that we managed to reach, totalling over 2000Km of driving (between Z and J) from Adelaide and back, In Z’s good ol’ wagon that managed to not break down until our return. We’d planned to go up to the gold coast for a few theme parks etc. but as funds were running low and we didn’t need anywhere else to go, Byron was nothing to dispute. It has become somewhat of a commercialised hippie town, emphasized by the daily ‘happy bus’ that went to Nimbin (weed-capital) and back, but we were lucky enough to have the option of a house to retreat to when our cash began to liquefy so the ‘commercial’ aspect didn’t hook us in too much. Between 7 of us we managed to pay a bit more than a hostel would cost, to rent holiday houses for a few nights at a time along the East Coast of the huge country. Our first house in Byron had a separate studio hidden amongst the tropical vines and flowers in the garden that J and I had the pleasure of spending a few nights in. We’d wake up in a white double bed with the sun streaming in the wooden-framed doors, catching the face of the decorative giant Buddha that stood against the back wall. I’d put on my flowy dresses and let my hair down to lounge around on the day beds with a few flower fumes twirling nearby, fully embracing my inner goddess in our luxury pad that, as everything else, was impermanent. 

Our Byron studio

Funny Aussie birds

Our lease there indeed ended, so we moved a few streets over into a house akin to a quirky antique shop… rocking horses hung from the ceilings, an array of chandeliers dangled over the wooden dining table outside and a quaint set of chairs and a table sat outside in the garden, to be enjoyed with morning coffees.

Melbourne house

The appreciation for our houses developed with each stay. After the 24 hour journey to Adelaide from London, arriving at around 8pm we made the first 9 hour car journey to Melbourne at 6am the next morning. Deliriously peering out of the win

Our garden :)

dow at the expansive roads and land that stretched for miles all around us. From arid red to lush greed ground we travelled passed giant pre-historic rocks, through small-unknown country towns, rows of evergreens contrasting the stark naked trees beside them. We stopped off at skate parks or servo’s to stretch our legs, release our bladders and fill our tummy’s. After a few mishaps of driving to the wrong destination, we arrived at our very first house in Richmond, Melbourne, where half of the Adelaide crew T, M, N and S were waiting… That house became our nocturnal nucleus where all the central processes took place but light rarely reached. We spent our first night checking out the Melbourne clubbing scene at Billboards where ‘bounce’, an Aussie genre of music (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z4uJ6AVmZhQ) that seems to attract lots of cooked, hench guys in tank tops…  and then moved on to New gurnica – a great house club (slightly more my scene) in which we spent most of our time in ‘the kitchen’ where the DJ booth was on the counter and the rest of the fixtures, fittings and kitchenware were behind him… It was cool watching everyone do ‘the juicy wiggle’ – a dance move specific to Melbourne (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ucAaXjgJ1ss), while Adelaide has the swipe dance and Sydney has the gabba.  So we spent our nights watching people wiggle and our days sleeping in, Australian football or the news constantly blaring from our TV and the recycled herbal fumes lingering in the air.

Melbourne!

J, J and I

I got to see my first possum, giant squirrel like things that when grouped together in trees at night, sound like hundreds of shrieking fishwives as they fight amongst each other. My old friend H from high school took me on a little tour down Brunswick street to check out the vintage shops, have conversations about loving the environment and animals with green peace advocates (*while wearing a fur coat) and sip on drinks in cute cafes (all with equally amazing coffee). It wasn’t until our second trip back through Melbourne where our great travelling companion J was living that I discovered my favourite part ‘St. Kilda’ that is very alike Bristol in England with it’s more independent, arty, hipster scene.

H and I :)

Sydney Harbour bridge

The Opera house

After Melbourne we hit up Sydney, taking up a whole room of a tiny and expensive hostel (with the bad ju ju) in Newton. On our first day we checked out Sydney Harbour Bridge and the world famous Opera house that was very architecturally interesting yet supposedly has some of the worst acoustics of all venues? The skies were blue, an aboriginal and his son were performing with a dance and a didgeridoo that resonated in the pavement with such earthiness and got us all dancing. Didgeridoos are traditionally crafted out of eucalyptus tree trunks that have been hollowed out by termites, with a beeswax mouthpiece. They’re traditionally meant to only be played by men, using a circular breathing technique to evoke a continuous earthy vibration. It’s incredible going to the museum to see how the aboriginals use(d) the land to survive, their tonics and ailments, spears, food, narcotics – in such dry, harsh conditions in the bush, no wonder their faces look so worn and worked. Much of their culture, stories and secrets are passed on to the new generation by the elders such as the symbols in aboriginal art e.g. the rainbow serpent which is viewed as the giver of life as it’s associated with water but a force of destruction if angry. This and many other symbols are part of the ‘dreamtime – a place beyond time and space in which past, present and future exist as one’ (Wikepedia). Our minds slowly emerged from the tribal dubstep-like waves and we wondered over to the beautiful botanical gardens to slide out of the draining forces of industrialisation and into mother natures manicured garden. Strangely enough, that evening, in a little Japanese restaurant that J and I had chosen to eat in, I turned around to see E and her boyfriend walking through the door, an old friend from high school and the only person in Sydney that I knew and hadn’t thought to get intouch with – so we had cocktails together, got to introduce our boyfriends and then headed off back to our hostel… the world works in mysterious ways. Earlier that day the boys had had a head start on the evening to come, they found Duff beers at a nearby bar (the fact that homer, who’s most used word is ‘doh’ promotes a beer brand astounds me) and sauntered home to a night of J dancing to jungle in his boxers, threats from our neighbours and rules, toys and hearts being broken. 

Tarot Card readings

Our super packed car

The next morning was unexpected chaos, the group dynamic had shifted and we were one car (and member) down to continue the trip up to Byron. We spent a few hours toing and froing, packed the car to the brim and were awaiting the rev of the engine… but J had managed to twist the car key our of shape, so with true altruism, a fellow traveller heated up the metal and twisted it back into shape, eliciting the exciting vibrations of a moving vehicle! Off we went, munching on yiros (Greek kebabs) on the way and doing a night’s stop over at a sweet hostel in ‘Coffs Harbour’. I cooked the boys a pad-Thai for dinner and we settled in to a few good chats with French and German travellers, feeling the excitement of a fresh conversation growing. By the end of the night we weren’t the only ones that had heard the German boys as they drunkenly belted out the high notes from the shared showers (located in the centre of the hostel/ audible to all) at 1am, J and I giggled in the corridor as other travellers occasionally opened their doors in total confusion.

Meditating in Byron

S & I

A run on the sand, a swim in the sea, a surf in the waves and a game of bool – we stopped off at a beach in Coffs to get a taste of the pacific on a beautiful strip of beach on the way to Byron bay. That evening we checked out the commercial club scene at cheeky monkeys and then decided to have our own rave with some great music with thanks to M, C and Rambo V. The few days merged into one, the boys would skate down the lane towards the beach, passing our little organic shop, the rainbow shop, crystal stalls and yoga centres while the rest of us wandered in bikini’s by day and jumpers by night. We were there just before ‘Splendour in the Grass’, a big music festival that has Byron packed out so luckily we missed the crowds and got to make it our own before we left. It’s funny how fast routine kicks in, we’d have our daily coffees, juices from the juice stall, sushi rolls and movie rentals. 

Coffs Harbour

The attachment to the routine became so apparent, there was no desire to change it. We checked out ‘The arts house’, a very cool hostel with a huge camping area and great activities where Z had stayed before. On our walk home we were feeling adventurous so we tried a new route and got to a river. It felt like something out of ‘we’re going on a bear hunt’ we had the options of wading through the river, climbing across the trees overhanging the river and dropping off at the other side, or tarzan’ing it on a piece of manky rope hung from a precarious branch. Z climbed and made it, M climbed and made it, I walked (my shoes and socks soaking up the stench of the river), J climbed and made it, N climbed and just as we were smiling at nearly all of us having made it over we hear a ‘thud’ as the branch broke and we all turned around to see N on the ground with bruised ribs :s. After much deliberation, S waded through and made it too and then the old hippies arrived on their bicycles to notify us of our new interactive discovery – Byrons Cesspit. The walk home was plagued by the smell of hippie shit that let out a s.q.u.e.l.c.h. inbetween our toes with each step. Deeeelicious. 

The mystery of Australia hit home when I went on an indefinite run, bare footed down the beach for about 40 minutes until my feet ached and I stopped and spun 360° to see that I was completely alone. The sea and the beach went on forever, and there was only one black figure about 20 minutes away, sauntering along the sand. I was struck with both the fear (at realising I could disappear and no one would know) and the thrill of being totally alone and not having to conform to anyone. I spun in circles till my head was dizzy, took off all my clothes and jumped into the sea in exhilaration with the cold water against my body and no ground beneath my feet. I floated atop the turquoise waves with the sun on my face and let all the strings go for a minute. When I eventually lifted by head out of its reverie, I realised the only way to get back was to run all over again… :s As I approached the black figure my heart sped up, it was a man knee-deep in the sea, staring straight ahead with the same astonishment I’d just felt. I ran harder and faster until I got back to the others playing footie on the beach…

Suddenly it was our last night in Byron, P had also joined us and we raved the night away, some looking through a kaleidoscopic lens while others glided along the high of the night until morning came and we watched the sunrise on that ominous day that matched our mood. Pizza and movie night and the next day we were all off! Back to Adelaide for S, up to the Gold Coast for M n N and down to Melbourne for the rest of us! To break up the journey we spent a night in ­­­­­­­­­Newcastle where we hatched a plan to stay in a hostel for half price (if we only paid for the boys and pretended us girls had just met them on a night out) and it worked! We pretty much got a whole dorm room to ourselves, so we turned the floor into a massive mattress, deconstructing and rearranging the bunk beds and blankets, much to the confusion of the other guest in our room. 

Lead singer of Kingswood!

...

House raves

In Melbourne the next day we tried our luck again at a motel that we got away with too J, we spent the day exploring art museums, having more random coincidental run in-s with old high school friends and ending with a bang at a secret Kingswood concert (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=avb-LliOPK0) as a warm-up to their performance at splendour. We hit it hard, sang with the lead singer, club hopped and landed with the spins back in our bed. The thoughtful hospitality of our very own St. Kilda resident J, convinced us to stay another night so we had a sleepover in his living room after watching the fire show outside the Crowne Casino and wishing Z a happy birthday as the clock struck 12. We arrived in Adelaide in good time that evening, continuing the travelling antics with a 21^st that evening, to rejoice with our other members and meet those I didn’t know yet. I’m lucky enough to have had 3 old friends fly over, two of whom I hadn’t seen for 7 years, R’s recently become a great pen pal and our reconnection was magical. We walked to Paradise along the river Torrens, cooked up a beautiful veg. buffet that fed 14 people (including leftovers), went out for dinners and desserts and had a lovely sleepover. H and I did much the same, opting for a D.I.Y wine night at home instead of a Barossa valley wine tour that was slightly dearer. And since then, I’ve settled into Adelaide (the first city in Aus not founded by convicts), I’ve got a job as a waitress at 2 café’s working with Z and J, I’m living in a beautiful family home, slowly building up my road sense after cycling everywhere, being fattened up at family dinners, trying out a few yoga studios, seshing with friends and connecting to my beautiful boyfriend. 

Australia’s been an interesting experience. I’d describe it as a mix between America and England; it has a lot of ‘diner’ style eateries, long expansive roads, a bit of Victorian architecture (in Adelaide especially – its architecture is based on London’s) and the ‘brush it off and have a beer’ attitude. But in-between all of that is a wild earthiness that I haven’t seen before; through their unnaturally large plants, fire-proof blackened trees and gritty nature it’s so easy to fall victim to the Adeladian rhythm, so for now I’ll take a break and listen to a new song with the comfort of knowing that I’ll soon return.. 

The Crew!

Quote of the day: 

'Not all those 

who 

wander are 

lost' 

J.R.R Tolkien

Stars always follow a setting sun

To Tisbury we go

The sun's lower than it should be at 12:30pm as I sit and wind down, allowing all of life's little worries to slowly slip away as a stress-free family ridden weekend lies ahead. The weather's doing funny things now, 2 days ago I couldn't feel my fingers beneath 2 pairs of gloves and today I'm only wearing a T-shirt and cardigan. It fills me with slight dread knowing that in 8 days I'm going to step out of the aeroplane to be greeted by an intense wave of humidity. Acclimatizing to the tropics is going to take a few days of lots of pool and AC action, as I welcome frizzy hair and bikini's.
It's a bit of a shame really, the pain of the cold is worth it because it's leading up to snow and Christmas - the first part of that is something I just seem to have missed, out of sheer bad timing. The first 3 times it snowed in our area I was dead to the world, recovering from heavy nights - I woke up to the picturesque image of rooftops and gardens blanketed by a light layer of the soft, fluffy white stuff - the reflection of the low altitude sun was making it glisten and the pale blue background blended in perfectly. As for Christmas, I'm lucky to have been here for the build up. Watching the trees go from lush to naked - standing in rows and clumps with odd, bumpy, angular branches. At night they look like weeping willows from Harry Potter that are about to come to life and wrap their arms around you, trying to keep themselves as warm as possible by pulling you into their bare and magical worlds. 
Walking down the street, the few green plants and berries all stand frozen and preserved and a light layer of glittery frost covers everything. I picked a curled leaf off a branch the other day and it lay frosty and unchanged in my hand, a tiny piece of art. The lights are forever increasing in quantity, strung over trees, bridges and windows. Walking home I spot the tops of Christmas trees peeking through the windows, ours is spread out comfortably in the corner by the front door. M and I were leaning out our window the other day, braving the outside air to lift ourselves with a few puffs of an old friend. She described London as being muted in winter, and that was the perfect adjective to describe it. The usual buzz and chaos that London's so known for is reigned in a little, the light is dimmed, the temperature dropped, the layers added and the vibe softened. It's not such a rush.
I've always spent Christmas in the tropics and I feel so lucky for that, my Christmas' consist of tinsel wrapped around palm trees, drunken jams in swimmers and seafood lunches on the beach - it's special and different but it'd be nice to abide to tradition for a change.

So the countdown's on and the 'portals' have opened as of 12/12/12 -- that's what I was told by my my madre so I did a bit of reading and watching to get inspired and understand what I was preaching. So basically, the sun goes through a precession wherein every 72 years it moves backwards by one degree, journeying through all the zodiac planes - the 'age of Aquarius'  might ring a bell, this is the new astrological age that's begun, as the sun's equinox has moved from the Piscean constellation to the Aquarian one. So at various points in time, the sun is between its highest and lowest points in the sky, also known as an 'equinox'. One of these is to take place on December 21st - aka the December solstice, when the sun is positioned at the lowest point in the northern hemisphere and the highest point in the southern. It's in the centre of the milky way while crossing the galactic equator, and on December 21st at 11:11 (deep breath!), the precession of the equinoxes occurs. This happens only once every 26,000 years and the alignment will take place along the plane of the entire galaxy. This, as you can imagine, causes a huge physical change on earth..  
Just a few little random examples of how the movement of the moon/ sun affect our physical reality, to keep everything in perspective.. 1) That temperamental time when emotions run wild?  A woman's menstrual cycle is dependent on the position of the moon, affecting us both physically and emotionally 2) The movement of the tides (and given that the majority of our earth, and body consists of water, I'd say that's a pretty huge source of control.) 3) The migration and navigation of animals based on the position of the sun and sea etc etc etc. 
So during this shift, in spiritual terms, the 'portals' are believed to be open from 12/12/12 - 21/12/12,  the portals I refer to are "Places where the magnetic field of Earth connects to the magnetic field of the Sun, creating an uninterrupted path leading from our own planet to the sun's atmosphere 93 million miles away." In turn, creating different energetic fields and particles on earth, and in humans, allowing for concious growth and awareness. (http://science.nasa.gov/science-news/science-at-nasa/2012/29jun_hiddenportals/).  It's a time to keep your heart open and your eyes wide. If I were to sit and breathe into this shift, the only image I could use to describe my inner experience is a wet cloth being tightly rung out. The emotional and physical changes happening right now are immense, and I'm using this 'shift', and my recently prescribed Microgynon (eek) to justify it. 
But what I seem to be picking up from all these spiritual sites and groups that I'm involved in, is the concept of 'unity conciousness' that's so important right now. We're so used to being individually wrapped up in our own worlds, yet we forget that we grow from others, so if this is a time for growth, it's important to feed into that. I, like many others, find that I get stuck in my own head a lot. Your problems absorb you and you lose perspective - other people bring you out of that. A recent source of inspiration, has come from a man named 'Bruce Lipton'. In one interview on 'the power of conciousness' he speaks of how we all have the ability to consciously change our realities if we emerge out of our habits that are controlled by our subconscious mind. His main message being that if we were to make the effort to live consciously for a larger percentage of the time, we could have anything - watch this (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VYYXq1Ox4sk). 

I'm looking over a green hill at the tip of a rainbow, the rest has faded and the very end where the pot of gold resides is lingering in the afternoon air. I'm daydreaming about the walk we're going to take later, past the little church at the bottom of the hill, up across the fields where the oak trees lie surrounded in a bleak mid-winter mist, and then up and over the gate that leads us back to the path, eesh I need to stretch my legs. But my monkey mind never hooks to one thought for long..
My bucket list is slowly being ticked off, but time seems to be, as it always it, the most limiting factor. Seeing family, godparents, old friends and new, buying Christmas presents, going to art exhibitions, markets, shops and restaurants  that I never saw and giving it all to the nights out that have to happen. Finishing the Crimbo rush and enjoying the last few days of a winter fling that's just started heating up; wondering what would have become if the flower girls adventures weren't so far away and if it were as easy as to hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks x

The smell of manure and sheep just wafted through the carriage - we're in the countryside!

Recipe of the day: Venison pie (had it last night, ah.mazing)

http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/venisonpie_89770
   

Is that a bell I hear?

The first lights

The lights are up on Oxford Street and the bells are starting to ring - Christmas is fast approaching! I wondered down the street at 5pm, the sky was darker than a midnight sky in KL, the air was fresh and the lights were twinkling. Giant candy canes, presents and santa claus's were everywhere as you craned your head to look into the bright yellow lighting against the suitably dark background - and then the massive 'Marmite' light appears - just in-case anyone was wondering who the sponsor was! Talk about being subtle..

Oxford street

I've begun tuning into this method that everyone seems to be using, and now I understand why. Spend hours walking around shops, being distracted by items you don't need, stressing out about prices you can't afford and then leaving after a few hours with nothing because indecisiveness took its toll. Or, click a few buttons and have whatever you want delivered to your doorstep a few days later. I don't really like the reliance on technology, but if you embrace it, your life can be made so much easier. I'm talking about on line shopping just in case you haven't clocked. There have been times when my lack of technology skills have landed me with 5 different phone covers from eBay when I'd only ordered one, or a broken digital camera (I'd missed out the 'refurbished' label on the item description page). But you can only learn from your mistakes, if everything in life went smoothly all the time, we'd be bored senseless.

Fambam

Thanksgiving's just passed aswell - something the Brits don't really go mad about but having been brought up in International (but Americanized) schools my whole life I've always had those amazing American friends (that over emphasize any festivity in such a contagious manner) that have invited us all over for  huge.turkey.dinner. Now in Psychology, it's been proven that our memory's are inaccurate hence when we think back on an event it will never be exactly what it was due to subjectivity and ra ra ra. But I like to think that some memories are accurate, even if you fantasize them into more than they are - who really cares, it makes for a better story. One such memory was when I was about 12 years old and we were invited over to T & D's for Thanksgiving dinner - We drove up to the house and out the front windscreen I could see a red hat with a white bobble peeking out above a huge sleigh. The other kids that were invited were jumping onto Santa's lap for a photo in his sleigh as the parents stood around and cooed lovingly. I walked into the house, and it was like we'd been teleported to a winter wonderland special. There were decorations everywhere, the AC's were on full blast, lights were twinkling, and gingerbread, chocolates and cookies were scattered around the house in idyllic red and green bowls. The evening rocked along to the carols that were playing as a perfectly suitable background soundtrack for the night; the first course of rich mushroom soup appeared accompanied bread, rolls and the like. The main act followed, a huge turkey, cooked to perfection with a side of roast potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce etc etc etc. The after-main palette cleanser of champagne sorbet followed and then came the stream of countless desserts, pumpkin pie, Christmas cake, cookies, coffee, chocolates - talk about a food baby. We were all preggers by the end of it, and slept like babies that night - waking up with out bellies still full. If there's ever a festive season to over-indulge, I'd give Christmas the prize. It's been my excuse for putting on the extra pounds lately, it's winter, it's cold, we're in need of insulation - animals hibernate for however many months, we need something to keep us going!

I do have friends that aren't as in to the Christmas buzz as I am - and use the argument of authenticity to bring down the mood. I slightly agree but I enjoy playing into it, cynicism isn't for everyone. Yes, Christmas has lost a lot of what it stands for -- I mainly follow the ideals of Buddhism so Christmas isn't about the religious aspect for me, it's about the coming together of family, friends and food, the extra's are just part of the fun. Yes, as a society the commercial side of festivities takes over a lot, we buy into what they want us to believe - we have to buy this, eat that and go there to have a 'merry Christmas'  but even if the exterior of the season is painted for us, the interior is the reason we love it so. That feeling on Christmas morning can't be bought with money or sold through an advertisement - but sometimes the ride's funner than the destination.

My distorted memory in a snapshot

Gingerbread late's and minced pies  in Starbucks

Besides the lead up to Christmas  we're also leading up to the big day that's been written about, made into films, and debated for years and years. The Auspicious day of December 21st. 'The end of the world', the end of the Mayan calendar  the day world war 3 starts, the day the economy changes for good, the day we lose all our natural resources, or the next ice age starts because global warming goes a wal!  What to believe, what to expect? The advise I've been given for that day, is 'be with someone you feel spiritually connected to and spend the day with them'. Whether it's sitting down meditating, having a really good heart to heart, or just laughing about nonsense. I think December 21st marks a change in human conciousness. Over the past few months/ the last year, it's been a huge time of change, as it always is, but more-so. The shift has been immense, the amount of political mishaps, natural disasters, emotional breaking points, deaths etc. have been increasing at a seemingly exponential rate as though testing us - as though to create a divide between those that can handle it and those that can't. Those that can will sore post-Dec 21st, and continue to grow in a positive fashion (speaking in linear terms here), whereas those that haven't been able to handle it, getting too caught up in the web of confusion that it's created, will not flourish as so. There's a 'spirit science' clip that explains what I've adopted as my belief -- not to say it's right, but there are too many options to sit on the fence on this one. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=adyqBP5selM) One thing I will say, is I don't think it should be a time of fear - anxiety's one of those feelings that isn't very progressive and because the ever-so-daunting future can hold anything, we may aswell venture into it with our chins up.

A wintry night out

I'm still in my PJ's and am pondering the idea of getting dressed but can't really face the brief few seconds of feeling the harsh cold against my skin as the transition into day-wear begins.. deep breath, here goes.

Drink of the day: Eggnog

http://www.simplyrecipes.com/recipes/eggnog/