September 27, 2011

Happily ever after...

Three years ago today I married the man of my dreams. He is smart, kind, loving, quirky, talented, handsome and I can't imagine my life without him. We were married in Florida, where I was born and raised, and we rented Key West style fisherman cottages, enough for our friends who came from New York, DC, Edinburgh, London and yes even Cleveland!

When we awoke on our wedding day before everyone else, except our mums ofcourse, Billy and I went fishing on the pier outside our window where I caught a Puffer fish! That day was the most perfect day I could of ever imagined and I enjoyed every minute of it. I wasn't nervous at all. On the contrary I was loving the attention and watching everyone else around getting nervous. I loved that day and everyone there had a role in getting ready for the wedding and therefore felt more apart of it.

I wouldn't change one thing about it. Not one tiny thing. It was perfect and so is my husband.

September 11, 2011

Ten years ago...

Ten years ago, I was in my first year at Syracuse University, a few hours away from New York City. I was dreading the next day because it was the anniversary of my dad's death and in those days it was still very fresh and emotional.

I was getting ready for my first class around 9:30 when my mom called and said "Turn on the TV," and that was it. I switched on my set and dropped to the ground. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. My mom was concerned for me even though she knew I wasn't in the city. Typical mom.

My roommate, who was in the Air Force ROTC, was usually gone by 5am so I didn't have anyone to talk to. I ended up going onto campus which was usually abuzz with frisbee throwers, picnicking students, and just the general bustle of day to day goings on. Today it was a ghost town. It was quiet and that was eerie.

I went to class because I didn't know what else to do. It was a lab for an anthropology class and I remember about four or five of us showed up and all we did was talk. It was comforting to know others around me were just as scared and stunned. One of my friends in the class was a little asian girl who was from Manhattan and her absence made it feel more real.

Being so close to the city, a very large population of students were from NYC, or had friends and family in NYC so it really affected so many around me. I remember the feeling that night when me, my roommate and her boyfriend sat watching the tv that this was the beginning of something big.

Conspiracy theories were abuzz but it was really to feel the void of actually knowing what was going on. This was terrifying. This didn't happen here. This didn't happen to us. I remember thinking if I was being held on a plane by guys with cardboard cutters, I would take the risk to fight back. How much damage could they do and certainly if one person started to attack others would follow. And besides at that time you could take loads of things on a plane. One well placed knitting needle could really do some damage. These were the things I was thinking at the time.

As a photojournalism student, the pull to go to the city was intense, but I knew I would be in the way and I hadn't gone into the city at that point so it was scary. This was when I knew I could never be a war photographer. The fear overpowered the need to tell the story.

I can believe it's been ten years mainly because it is always in our minds when we travel, when conflicts arise abroad, with constant news from Afghanistan on the news. This is our generations version of "Where were you when Kennedy was shot?" but instead instead of one man it was over 3,000. Where were you on 9/11?

(The photo is of me in Central Park when I was in university)

September 6, 2011

East of England

I come from a city in South Florida where the only mountain is the dump and the oldest house is from the 1950's. If you would of told me when I was a wee lass that I'd be living in the English countryside I wouldn't of believed it and really couldn't fathom how I'd get here. But here I am. Its really funny when people around here try to figure out my accent. Naturally it has a bit of a southern twang especially when I say things like bird. It comes out buurd.

I have been asked if I'm Northern Irish, South African, Australian, Scottish (I actually get that the most probably because my husband is Scottish and I just moved from Edinburgh) but the funniest is Canadian. People say to me often: "Well I'm going to say you're Canadian because I don't want to offend you by saying you're American."

Anyways, the reason for my post is to put up some photos from the seaside I took today after an assignment at the Felixstowe Ferry, which is a shipyard for smaller boats. Felixstowe was a mecca for Victorian people to come and holiday made popular by Queen Victoria herself staying there and also because the water was deemed just as healthy as the waters in Bath, England. It's still a popular spot but most people opt for the seaside at Southwold these days. I'm going to put up more photos from these places because there is so much history here.

Back home in Florida, people eager for the old timey values of community that are nurtured naturally in English villages, created a subdivision complete with town hall in the swamps west of town and named it "Tradition." This synthetic history makes me cringe and at the same times makes me happy to live somewhere steeped in history.

September 4, 2011

Crochet Project 1

I have been drooling over the megadoily for months now and I am determined to actually make it for my new flat. One problem though, I don't know how to crochet. I attempted crocheting when I was young but failed miserably. I am dyslexic and I have trouble understanding complex things without working it out my own way. This is why it took me ages to learn to knit, but I think because of years of fairly successful knitting that I was able to pick up the craft.

So last week I dug out my hooks that I use for knitting projects and found some wool and learned some basic stitches. In two days I was making these floral inspired granny squares from this project in the UK magazine Mollie Makes (Issue 2). I am struggling with gauge quite a bit so I've decided to do the first step multiple times and then the next step all at once so hopefully it will stay consistent.

To be honest, I've never really liked crocheting. The results look like less sophisticated knitting and I've never seen a crocheted item that I liked better than a knitted one, but I think that there is a time and place for crochet and this is it. I watched the sitcom Roseanne all the time growing up because my family was just as dysfunctional as theirs and they always had a granny square blanket on the back of their couch. I think that if it looks retro enough it works so here goes.

Once this is done then I'll move on to the rug!!! I'm so excited about it.