Sherlock

I am finally watching Season Two of the BBC's Sherlock and can I just take a moment to say how much I love Stephen Moffat?  Oh.  My.  God.  He has re-imagined the Sherlock Holmes tales and still managed to preserve everything I adore about Holmes and Watson.  As you all may know, I am a deep lover of the Granada television series with Jeremy Brett as Holmes from 1984.  This new series pays just the right amount of homage to the writings of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and updates the circumstances of the cases while adding a technological twist to the series.  It is fabulous and I highly recommend it.

University District Farmer's Market

One sunny Saturday, a few weeks ago, I finally ventured up to our Farmer's Market here in the U-District.  Every Saturday from 9 -2 you can find a plethora of vendors (and yummy food!) at the community center at 50th and The Ave.

I was specifically looking for vendors that sold grass fed beef (See my King Corn post) and how much that might cost.  Turns out there were at least two stands that had ground beef for around $5 a pound, by the pound.

Samish Bay is where I purchased my beef this time, they also make utterly delightful cheeses that you can purchase by the wheel, half, or nibble.

Olsen Farms will have to be tried next time, but they also looked tasty!  Man, did they have a lot of potatoes!  I've never seen so many varieties.  I wanted to buy one of each just to have a potato-tasting party. (Do people do that?)  

Ginger Beer...yum!  Not actually alcoholic, but fermented in the brewing process, these lovely ladies make a spritzy, delicious ginger beer that I'm going to have to get next time I go.

Blackberries!  Have I told you about how much I love blackberries?  Probably.  I have made a personal vow to ALWAYS lick my plate CLEAN whenever blackberries are involved.  So far, I have kept this promise and still kept my decorum amongst society.  Still.  Blackberries=love.

I came home with a flat of blackberries (baked into a pie) carrots (yum!), Spring Blossom Honey, and a bottle of Rockridge Orchards Cobblestone Hard Apple Cider.  Seriously the best hard apple cider I've ever had, yet.  

There are so many more vendors at this market, it can get a little dizzying, and so many things I have yet to try.  I found it to be reasonable for my student budget and many of the vendors do take debit/credit cards.  Just ask.  Also, if you miss some of them here in the U-district, many of the vendors sell at the West Seattle Farmer's Market on Sunday.  

Happy discoveries!

FNO + The Darling Miss Andrea!

Last week I took the night off from work and went out with my girlfriend, Andrea to Seattle's Fashion's Night Out or FNO.  Andrea had found this awesome scavenger hunt that you do on your smart phone and the prizes were pretty sweet so we put our best foot forward and gave it a whirl!

We had to pose with the blue trees in Westlake Plaza...

...and find the best Anna Wintour sunglasses.

We got some fashion advice from the lovely ladies at Ann Taylor...

...and met this darling man with amazing pants by Gucci.  (really need to find out who he is!)

I pretended to pop off my pearl button plaid at True Religion, 

while Andrea swooned delicately for a photoshoot.

There was a fashion show at Pacific Place emcee'd by this lovely lady!  Her sparkly dress matched my hair so I had to ask for a snap.

We swooned over Tiffany's in our best Audrey impersonation.

Posed along red carpets.

And fed Luna bars to strangers in the park, although I'm not sure what the wacky lady below was doing.  Perhaps a little munchy?

After many, many giggles, lots of shopping our tootsies were tuckered and we paused to collect ourselves before hiking back to Andrea's apartment.

We got a fun swag bag from Free People, won a prize bag from the contest, and throughly enjoyed ourselves.  Until next time, FNO!  You were a doll. 

xoxo,

Anna

Documentary Review: Bill Cunningham New York

As a person who enjoys seeing what people wear on the street AND photography, this documentary was very enjoyable.  What made it really lovely was that is focused on one New York gem, Bill Cunningham.  Bill has been snapping away at street fashion since the early 80's and is probably the first person to actively document "street fashion" rather than simply reporting on what the stars are wearing this week.
He does photograph the stars, and attends Fashion Week in Paris, however his judicial eye can make or break the perceived success of any clothing line.  Even Anna Winteur will admit that.  If Bill doesn't take a picture of it, you didn't make the "cut."  Now that statement is quite large, but what I really appreciate about Bill is that he won't photograph clothing that he can't imagine on the normal woman on the street.  He imagines it on the average girl rather than the super model.  I deeply appreciate that fact.
Bill Cunningham is one of the last residents of Carnegie Hall, at the end of the documentary we are privy to his previewing a new apartment which he really doesn't need. His apartment in Carnegie was really only one room with a cot to sleep on.  The rest of the space was filled with file cabinets of his photographs and legacy.  He is a man of simple needs, just a camera and a cheap windbreaker.  If you're going to be a photographer, why spend money on a nice jacket that will just get ripped by your camera?
This was a beautiful glimpse at the life of a man who will be sorely missed when we finally loose him.

Accepting Body Changes

   Do you have a difficult to fit body?  Mine has morphed so much in the last few years that I'm a bit in denial, but learning to cope with change.  I suppose learning to make my own clothes is helping, but when I see the size tag, that's where my (initial) problems begin.
I used to be a 36 C, size 10 pant, size 12 dress, medium, medium, medium!  I liked it.  Granted that was in Jr. High and High School, so I've really nothing to complain about.  It has just been interesting getting to know my body and letting go of clothing that I really love.

   First major change was my bust.  I didn't think my bust would change that  much when I started birth control pills, but it did.  Plus getting pregnant compounded that problem.  The change: 34 DD and a 41" bust.  Uffda.  I've always had a larger torso because my ribcage is nice and roomy, add some shoulders on to that, and you've got problems with arm holes, sleeves being too short, etc.  The list was long to begin with.  Add 5" to the bust and then nothing fits.

   In the last year or so I have finally come to accept and truly embrace this new body.  Yes, there are days when I'm bloated or feeling heavy and I'm not such a great fan.  Despite the "off" days, I work to fill my closet with things that truly fit.  Not sort of fit, not almost fit, not it-really-doesn't-but-if-I-ignore-it-the-problem-will-go-away fit.  They. All. Fit.  It is so liberating.  Knowing that no matter what kind of day I'm having, no matter what, I can reach in and grab anything and it will fit.  I don't have to plan (much, anyway) on wearing one thing because I'm feeling larger or smaller.  I don't want to live my life like that.  "No lunch cause the jeans don't fit days"  I want to eat lunch and wear those jeans.  They might be a size 12 now and a grown-up brand (Lee versus Old Navy) but they all fit.  I also stop myself from buying things that almost fit.  Things that I could morph to fit me, but really?  Do I take the time to do that as often as I should?  Nope.  If it doesn't fit, don't buy it.  Best lesson of this year.

   I am working, sometimes unsuccessfully, at eating differently and exercising more.  It is so easy in the summer when I'm home all the time.  During school it's a little harder to carve out an hour for a walk.  I'm hoping for 30 minutes before I eat lunch, but we shall see.  I don't mind walking or being out in cold, wet, windy weather.  I grew up in Lincoln Park (in West Seattle) year round.  I love being outside in the Fall and Winter.

   Anyway, back to bodies.  I feel that mine is so unique (and, really, whose isn't?) that I dislike shopping for ready made clothes.  I don't want to feel bad for being an XXL at Old Navy nor do I want to shop at Torrid so I can feel better about being a smaller size.  I want to wear clothing and not care.  It's those darn little labels that make it difficult and easy not to care.  That make us think we're all supposed to be a certain size.

   New York photographer Bill Cunningham photographs street fashion as well as going to Paris Fashion Week to report for the NY Times.  He won't photograph clothing that wouldn't fit on a normal woman.  He doesn't care about brands or lines, he cares about how clothing fits.  He dislikes the mentality that some people have about needing to all be the same.  "Cookie-cutters are boring!" he says.  He would rather photograph personality and style than stick-figures with perfect pouts.

   As a woman who doesn't feel that she could ever "fit in" with the society of High Fashion, I appreciate it.  I dislike Fashion because it jumps to affix a label on me, on everyone.  You are skinny, you are fat.  Really?  Who put you in charge of how my label?  I am Anna.  That is my label.  I am Just  Right.  Some girls are naturally skinny, some are naturally larger, some are in between.  It's all OKAY! There are no "Fashion Police" who will plaster a label on your forehead.  No, we do that on our own, like drugged fashion acolytes who don't stop and think outside the box.  Who don't question the pill.  We close our eyes and stick out our tongues for the Wafer of Absolution from the High Priest of Fashion.

   If that is where you want to be, that is fine by me.  I just don't want the label.  I am not fat.  I am not anything but beautiful and myself.  I am Anna.  You are You.  I respect that.
  The greatest thing we can ever learn is just to love, and be loved in return.  Learn to love yourself.  Challenge what you think and believe.  Put love out into the world and it will return to you.
Be Groovy.

1988 & 2012

Before we left, we had to take a snap semi-recreating the one above.  24 years will really put some height on a gal, eh? 

Morrison - Part Three

Our last few days in Morrison saw a frenzy of cleaning and small flurries of sorting the last few piles.  

Socks were scrubbed in the sink and hung up to try and "dry" despite the humidity.

We settled on pizza for dinner, followed by delicious Whitey's Ice Cream, which is on par with Husky's in West Seattle or Tillamook.

One evening we took a drive after supper, pausing at the house that is always decorated (in some way or another) for Halloween.

We said hello to my Grandpa George and Grammie Lou, nibbling some salmon and cornbread in their honors.

Garden Plain Cemetary provided a gorgeous view of the sunset over cornfields.

A quick jaunt over the mighty Mississippi River found us in Fulton, Iowa and I took a gander at their windmill.  It was built by Dutch artisans who had settled in the country.

Finally the movers came to pack up furniture and boxes we had scrounged up from around Morrison.  Empty packing boxes are difficult to be gotten.

Ralph was found visiting us girls in the downstairs bathroom.  I didn't squish him, instead trapped him in a tumbler and deposited him amongst the peonies.  I hope he forgives me for squashing his brother!

Deer Scott was dismounted and packed up ready to head off to his new home in Seattle.  The movers got a good chuckle out of his oddness.

On Friday, Mom's birthday, we went to the local museum to view Anna Hanford's wedding dress which we pleaded to have a look at.  I was hoping to merely look at it safely in the box, however the docents at the museum went above and beyond the call of duty.  They put the dress on a mannequin, brought out other garments that were donated by the family, AND they bought a cake!  It really was too much, but we were grateful and delighted to spend the time with them.

The dress

Me and my namesake's wedding dress!

Three generations of Wildi Girls!

The sad thing about being in the midwest was how much people needed it to rain.  Farmers were in the midst of a drought which threatened the success of their corn crops.  The soy crops seemed okay, but the corn was in a waiting period to see if it would survive or must be ploughed over.  There are three kinds of corn crop; field corn, sweet corn, and seed corn.  Field corn is animal feed, sweet corn is for people to eat, and seed corn is carefully irrigated to preserve next season's crop.  Seed corn will always survive because it must.  Field corn and sweet corn don't get such careful preservation.  It was fascinating for this City Mouse to be reminded that some people succeed or fail by their crops.  

In order to move a large roll top desk I had to remove one piece of door moulding.  It was very cleverly done with the hallway joint appearing to be mitered and the inside appearing to butt up against each other.  Before I replaced it, we decided to write a message on the interior.  

The Kentfield-Wildi Home

Filled with Family and Love

1918-2012

We enjoy leaving little notes as much as we love to find them.  I found it very fitting.

On Sunday Ann and Aunt Marion went off to church before Mum and I left for the airport.

Pictures were snapped in front of the Ginko, as per tradition.

We departed, leaving Karin to mind the house.  It was a funny feeling, knowing that I would probably never be back and it felt like this was the first time I had ever been.  I am so happy the house will be filled with laughter and a new family.  As if it will be able to shake off some dust and be a home again. Someday, should we find ourselves in Morrison, I am sure we will pause to visit the House on Grape Street but for now we say farewell, and thanks for all the memories!