(Out)back to Nyack!

We're back, baby.

Though our reunion with Nyack was delayed briefly by sticky floors that refused to dry during a week of purported daily deluges (if you want fun, shack up in a long-stay hotel with two children under six, one at your feet and one H-style between you and your spouse or loved one), we rolled in at about 7:30 a.m. two Sundays ago (jet lag).

And thar she was. Sweet Apple Farm.

As you are likely aware, or else why the heck are you reading this, we just left the loverly city of Bath in the United Kingdom, where most houses are named. Ours was not -- plain old 26 Northampton Street it was -- but many were. Abbey View, Church View, Hawksmoor, Mile House, Milford House, you get the drift. So Josie asked if, when we moved back to the States, we could live in a house with a name.

We said fo sho, little lady, and whatever you would like to name it.

Without hesitation, our starry-eyed dreamer blurted, "Sweet Apple Farm!"

It's actually not a crazy name.  Our development was actually once a farm, later split into 8 plots and called, for real estate purposes, "The Farm at Nyack."  The Sweet Apple bit? "Bye Bye Birdie," of course. You may recall that heroine Kim MacAfee is none other than the president of the Sweet Apple, OH chapter of the Conrad Birdie Fan Club.

(If you're getting déjà vu, then you're probably also aware that I got Hugo's name from Hugo Fink/Peabody, Kim's high school boyfriend played by Bobby Rydell. I should just dye my hair red, sing into a telephone and squeeze into a hot pink number already, although I'm probably older than Maureen Stapelton was at the time she filmed the movie).

Sweet Apple - crazy, baby

That early Sunday morn we were all exhausted. The extraction from Bath was bittersweet and not a little painful, the departure harried (though made eminently sweeter by a gift basket of wine, cheese and meats left in our hotel room by Kiwi Mom-- bless you, Kiwi Mom) and the flight -- well, I'd say long to... quite long. Hugo had refused to sleep until we had landed and started deplaning -- the kid always has great timing -- and strongly disliked awakening in a black Range Rover parked outside a White Plains corporate housing facility.

But a greasetastic UNO's pizza, four hours of sleep, a 20-minute ride in our new Subaru Outback, and a Main St.-Frappucino later, we were home.

SAF is a replica farmhouse, built in 2000, so lots of rustic charm blended with modern amenities (read: I finally get a real walk-in closet and Jeff gets a man-cave with en-suite bathroom!). It's also in terrific shape, though as many of you have discovered, giving even a relatively new house your own personal style is a huge undertaking. Thankfully, Nom and Pee-pa helicoptered in from MI to get the party started.

Let's take Josie's room as an example. Its previous occupant was a tres sportif (we're talking life-sized David Beckham decal on the wall) 15-year-old boy. Not a decorating style that translates well to a five-year-old, unabashed girly-girl.  So here's the "before" along with the 3 pinks she chose and tested.

Josie's room - Before

Even after just some spackle and one coat of fresh paint, the transformation was well underway.

Now that's what I call pink

Add one Pottery Barn Kids rug, a Young America bed, and a mEtsychistic decal, and we're on the way to finished Monkey-Moodle Lair.

Restful glamour

Hugo's cute li'l room (he got the biggest upgrade, coming from a glorified nook in Bath) was a pretty blank slate... boy did he love getting a Big Boy Bed (as any of you who chatted with him about the upcoming move to America well know).

He now has the largest bed in North America (tip: pay attention to those measurements, and don't assume beds from the same company will be the same scale!), but plenty more Cath Kidston Cowboy decor to come.

Keep those dogies rollin'

The biggest decorating challenge is posed by the Great Room. It needs to be All Things -- living room, entertaining room, family room, some-TV room -- and right now it's a bit hunting-lodge for our otherwise fairly cottage-style taste. We've discussed everything from painting the ceiling and bookshelves off-white to just the bookshelves and walls to just the walls and living with it for awhile.

When you look closely the bookshelves are a bit stained and dinged-up, so it's not a crazy idea to paint them. But we're going to save this room for last.

All it needs is a big moose head over the fireplace

The breakfast room is a color that everyone actually loves, so it's staying yellow for awhile, although we've already added a bit of flair.

Breakfast room: Before

Breakfast room: Let's call it "during"

The dining room was decorated in this very baroque style, so our plan is to lighten and brighten with a little help from Messrs. Farrow and Ball.

Dark

Too dark

Ooooohhhhhhh

We've had another addition to the family -- well, actually this guy's been part of the Davidson family for generations -- but we're beyond psyched to give him a new home.  Thank you Gramma Harriet for giving this to me, and Pee-pa for dismantling it, storing it for 4 years, carting it here and then... remantling it. It runs... well, like clockwork, and looks amazing in what will be a bright, beautiful and welcoming dining room in a few weeks and more Benjamins than I care to think about (Josie won't need braces, right?).

Bong

Our office is already in decent shape -- I'm sitting in it, banging all this out, aren't I?  Down the road we're thinking built-in bookshelves and a piano, but in the near future we'll just hang some art.

No office politics here

Of course one of the best parts about moving back out to the 'burbs is the outdoor space. We've gone from a lovely but tiny "English garden" to a kick-ass BBQ'in, s'more-broilin', paddling-poolin', football-throwin', live-action-Bambi-castin' YARD.

Whachoo drinkin', Nom?

Corn dog

The other big news is that for all the pre-move angst and anxiety, the kids are settling in great. They will just play together in that basement for, like, minutes -- we'll work up to half-hours or maybe even hours -- run around outside, scooter in the driveway....and Jeff and I can shower and brush our teeth in relative solitude. 

Josie also toured her new school -- and she's pretty excited for September.

Her chief anxiety, actually was that she wouldn't remember where everything was, in comparison to our old house, so she made some very helpful signage.

Jeff's brother and sister-in-law, Lewisburg Parents, visited with our nephs, and that was pretty awesome.

We're all pretty psyched for our first 4th of July in Nyack. Plans include swimming, sweating, and BBQing with Jeff's sister and niece. Plenty of room, the rest of y'all, so hurry up and visit.

In the meantime, stay tuned for decorating drama and other special sauce.

Winding down...

You'll notice it's again been six weeks since my last post. Believe me, I've sat down many times to write it -- but each time I found ways to procrastinate, browsing Boden's website, returning emails, even cleaning the house (now that's desperate).

The thing is, I'm not ready to say goodbye.


Don't get me wrong -- I love, love, love Nyack, NY.  It's everything I could want in a settle-down-town. Great friends, amazing restaurants, terrific shopping, beautiful green spaces.



But for awhile there we got to avoid settling down, instead trotting the globe these last 4.7 years. It's been amazing. It's been mind-bending. It's been world-view-expanding, not to mention scary, exciting, delicious, sometimes quite bizarre and never, ever boring.

And I know this is the right time to go home. But darn it, we really made Bath feel like home, too.

Of course, it will always be home. It's where Josie spent her three (so far) most formative years. Where she learned to sleep in a big-girl bed, swing on a big-girl swing, tie her shoes, say "rubbish" and "plaster," ride a scooter, use the potty, eat with chopsticks, plant flowers and vegetables, play netball, stare glassy-eyed for hours at Peppa Pig, mediate conflict, select interesting outfits, read, write, and ride a bike (sort of).


It's where I learned to drive on the left hand side of the road for all of 13 minutes. It's where I learned to battle mold and mildew in every room and on every surface. It's where I discovered a deep and abiding love for Indian curry, Farrow and Ball paint, Hairy Biker crisps, Cath Kidston, fish pie, celery root, AGA cooking, the BBC, Gordon Ramsay, Jamie Oliver, Waitrose, crabbing (geez, a lot of these are food-related) and really challenging yoga classes.


And, in more exciting news, it's where Josie lost her first tooth, last week!

Baby Gap

And of course, Bath will always be where Hugo was born -- a blessed event I will always credit in no small part to the city's famous healing waters (seriously!) and for which, despite the no-drugs, no-frills labor, I will always be grateful.

We got to live in two amazing neighborhoods, from the sprawling, grand avenue of Great Pulteney Street to the lovely, serene, family-friendly Northampton Street.

We've made and maintained so many amazing friendships, in Paris and Sweden and London and Bath, and everywhere in between.  And if you wrap in our 20 months in Paris we got to see a good chunk of this part of the world, from the exotic to the more home-grown: the Loire Valley, Alsace, Tuscany, Turkey, Jerusalem, Tel Aviv, Salzburg, Stockholm, Devon and Cornwall -- some of the most beautiful places and spaces on earth. We got to explore the West End of London so completely it felt like a home away from home.

We have been so, so fortunate to have this adventure together. From our early days in Paris -- haltingly ordering appliances in French over the phone -- to our crazy UK drivearound in April, I think it's made us a stronger family unit - and given us memories to last a lifetime (poor Hugo will have to make do with photos, lots of video, and careful, detailed storytelling).

The last six weeks or so have been a seemingly endless string of goodbyes: from Jeff's office farewell dinner and sendoff party to my last American Girls' dinner to Lansdown Mom's 40th to a last trip to Bowood with our wonderful Pulteney Street neighbors. One last breakfast burrito at Jika Jika. One last meander through the Guildhall. One last frenzied climb (and chase!) around Sydney Gardens' death-defying playground equipment.

When Jeff came back for a week over half-term break, we hit all our favorite haunts, from Horse World to the Holburne -- making one last picnic at Parade Gardens and one last mad dash through Marks and Spencer.

Horse World -- first and last visits 

Nom and I took Josie on one last whirlwind trip to London, too. We caught the 8:13 train and despite a constant downpour managed to see Westminster Abbey, the Portrait Gallery, the British Museum and Selfridge's, with a fabulous French lunch with mega-treasured pal Pat Swords wedged in the middle.

We have a lot to squeeze in during this last week.  I still have a last lunch with Pittsburgh Mom at the Bath Priory, into whose sumptuous dining rooms I have only voyeuristically peeked, one final curry with the Rajpoot Cabal, and what will surely be a sob-fest, Josie's farewell from the Royal High School for Girls on Friday.

 

If there's ever a global Sag Paneer shortage, you'll know who to blame. 

Thursday the packers come to pack, and Friday the movers come to move. We'll spend one last night in this World Heritage City -- at the Hilton -- grab one last pint at the Pulteney Arms, and hop the two o'clock to JFK.

And in 24 short hours I'll go from being the ever-present, loud, food- and bargain-obsessed American to plain, old Nyack Mom.  Au revoir, mes amis!  See you on the other side.

Traveling band

With our departure from the UK looming, we decided to spend the Easter holidays traveling this beautiful country. We packed up the car -- along with the spiffy cartop carrier we'd bought in anticipation of many family roadtrips (there have been a few) -- turned on the house alarm, got in the car, distributed snacks, realized we left the AGA running, turned off the house alarm, turned off the AGA, reset the house alarm, got back in the car, plugged in the iPhone loaded with Glee tunes and Roald Dahl books, and set off.

Being from Michigan, I grew up only really knowing driving vacations. A vacation was often driving to another Midwestern state to visit long-lost friends and far-flung relatives.  And for his part, Jeff has driven cross-country twice and ferried us relatively long distances during our years abroad. But this was a ROAD to the TRIP. We basically circled this whole damn island. About 35 hours in the car. With two children under 6. And lived to tell the tale.

First off was Kent, "England's Garden" in the southeast of the country. We tooted right over to Hever Castle, which Parisienne pal Virginia Mom had always told me was her kids' favorite sight in all of the UK, and one of the best.castles.ever.  Well, expectations pretty much matched reality, even in the chilly, breezy weather that would follow us pretty much everyplace.

 

Hever in the morning, Hever all through the night

Hever Castle was owned by the Bullen, or the much-fancier-sounding-to-these-shameless-social-climbers Boleyn family. In a strange new twist, Josie requested an audioguide - what would, it turned out, be only the first of many, because the girl apparently really likes facts. If she's gonna trot her carcass around three floors of damp, cold stone filled with smelly old furniture, fake plaster food and constantly shushing volunteer docents, she wants to know the facts, dammit. Can't say I blamed her.

Of course, I couldn't have an audioguide being that I was also chasing a two-year-old gunning to shimmy across said stone floors, climb on aforementioned smelly furniture, and throw fake plaster food. So I relied on her to tell me the facts. I got some interesting ones, like "King Henry asked this American, William Walderfaster, to fix up the house."  And "when Anne Boleyn didn't have any boy babies, King Henry made her eat chopped Hairy-Toff."  

Of course when we got to the top floor and scary-ass life-size models of all of Hank's wives, I had to explain which happened to each one, even giving her that handy mnemonic device "Divorced-Beheaded-Died, Divorced-Beheaded-Survived."  She was absolutely enthralled. We then collected Hugo and Jeff, walked through all the gardens, grabbed some hot tea and scones, and headed for Maidstone, our Kent Central Base.

Day 2 of our Kent tour included medieval Canterbury, and - of course - the famed Canterbury Cathedral, where Thomas Becket was murdered, mobilizing the millions of pilgrims that inspired Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. The Cathedral was amazing and included a shrine to Becket, caskets of both Edward, the Black Prince and Bishop William Courtenay, as well as Henry II and Joan of Navarre. The place is gold for an English history buff like me.

Charming medieval Canterbury

Canterbury Cathedral

Cousin Randy was a Bishop?!?

After a quick lunch it was Daddy's choice, which was the interactive Canterbury Tales exhibit, in which you walk through a series of realistically urine-smelling rooms and hear several of Chaucer's tales accompanied by more scary-ass life-size plastic people singing and acting them out. Neither child did, as Frommer's Family Guide to England predicted, try to flee screaming and have to be escorted out through the emergency exit, though they quite crankily demanded fudge afterward.

From Canterbury we went right to Dover, sadly skipping Sandwich, where we had planned to stop and, well, have a sandwich. Dover Castle belongs in the family guidebooks -- it was totally cool, having recently been refurbished with new MDF thrones, tables, beds, all of which kids could climb on. Since it was spring break there were loads of kids' activities. Unfortunately we had to skip the secret tunnels and wartime hospital constructed during the Second World War, which are apparently the best part, in order to catch our 4:00 boat to see the White Cliffs.

 

Dover Castle, significant in both Medieval and WW2 Times

 

Whoa - Americans seize the throne! 

The White Cliffs and slightly downstream Seven Sisters are beautiful and worth the cold, wet, misty trip to see them. Especially since both kids got to steer the boat! We then broke for dinner, which included -- of course -- incredible Dover Sole meuniere. Julia Child would have wept.

Beautiful White Cliffs as seen from our dinghy

 

Mutiny! 

England's garden well in hand, we set off Easter Sunday -- amid snow flurries, naturally (see SALZBURG, 2012) -- for Yorkshire, home to James Herriot, the Brontes, and Bram Stoker's inspiration for Dracula, Whitby Castle. We'd never been to Cambridge, so we stopped for lunch, walking a bit around Kings' College where Henry again yet oversees things.

 

We can't get away from this guy! 

We hopped back in the car and after an hour or so I looked at the map and said "it only takes us about 20 minutes out of our way to stop by Sherwood Forest."  The best part about a road trip! You can stop here, check out that, etc. etc. So a brief detour brought us to Robin Hood's hangout, along with the Main Oak where Robin shot that famous arrow to win the Sheriff of Nottingham's competition. Josie, who has long loved both the Errol Flynn and Walt Disney versions of the film, was in heaven.

The Famous "Main Oak" of Merry Men fame

Then, our arrival in Yorkshire. What beautiful countryside! Any extended UK trip should definitely include a few days here. You could spend a week and never run out of places to hike, cool castles to see, or amazing Sunday roasts to eat.

I ticked off a bucket list item with the charming, achingly sad Bronte Parsonage Museum, after which we hiked around a town called Grassington in the Yorkshire Dales. We stayed at an adorable B and B, which unfortunately had no guest lounge, so we spent three more nights falling asleep trying to outlast our endlessly perky children so we could finish our boxed DVD set of the Killing (we didn't).

 

Everyone died. The end.

 Dressing the Part

 

Hiking in the Dales 

 

Feeding the chickens

The next day was reserved for a fun-filled day in what we like to call Old York, where Josie's best friend E and his parents, our friends R and A, had moved about 19 months before. R, whom we can also call Montana Mom since that's where she grew up, had planned an action-packed itinerary filled with visits to the city's best museums, a ride on the Wheel of York (just like the London Eye) and dinner in an Italian restaurant installed in the city's beautiful old Assembly Rooms.

Assembled in front of one of Henry VIII's torched Abbeys

It's easy to see why York edged out Bath in last year's contest for Britain's most beautiful city. Josie and E reconnected immediately, running all over the place, putting on all the dress-up clothes, putting on puppet shows and filming each other on their mummies' iPhones.  Hugo tried to tolerate all that chumminess, largely failing miserably.

So... this Caesar guy. Should we take him out?

Beautiful York Minster

Wednesday it was up and -- after feeding B and B owner Lyndsey's chickens and eating the eggs we'd found the day before -- off to Edinburgh.  It was a long drive, so we decided to stop at Hadrian's Wall, the northernmost border of the Roman Empire, for a stroll and lunch.  There are several points of the Wall to visit, but we chose the old Roman fort, complete with baths, and apparently a very old-school potty.

A bit of Hadrian's Wall, on the other side of the river

 

Another burned-out Abbey in North-north-north England

We got into Edinburgh late afternoon, just enough time to check into yet another Premier Inn and take a quick stroll around the Old City. What a beautiful place!  Jeff and I had both been before, Jeff twice in fact, but I had forgotten what a grand, cosmopolitan, easygoing and fun city it is. I began my long and ultimately unsuccessful search for a cashmere airplane blanket and we ate in a hilarious Faux-Americana restaurant (if I never have a greasy burger OR hear "The Heart of Rock and Roll" again it will be too soon).

Our Full Edinburgh Day started at Edinburgh Castle. Totally amazing, though totally full of flights and flights of uneven stone steps so Josie ran out of gas and patience fairly quickly. We got to see the Crown Jewels of Scotland (no, not Andy Murray!!!) which she loved, while listening to our tour guide's absolutely delicious accent.

 

Edinburghers with Cheese

Illusions at the Camera Obscura museum

After Edinburgh Castle it was off to Holyrood House, the castle where Mary Queen of Scots famously lived, where her secretary and potential lover was stabbed 27 times, and lots of other facts I got to hear because I insisted on a damn audioguide too.

 

In the abbey (burned, shocker!) at Holyrood House Palace

Our last morning in Edinburgh was spent touring the Royal Yacht Britannia, which was a real solid by Jeff considering it would kill our chances of getting to the Beatles Experience in Liverpool before closing time. A reeeeeal solid because it was SO COOL!  It was decomissioned in 1997, not coincidentally, I don't think, right after Princess Diana died, and has sat in Edinburgh's harbor, untouched, decorated as the Queen and Prince Philip had it, ever since.

 

You can Ring Her Bellllll, the Queen's Bell

 
They each had their own bedrooms (single bed, each) and offices!  There's a music room, a formal dining room, and informal dining room, a fudge pantry, a den, all decorated in sublime 1960s kitsch. We all had audioguides, and traipsed through the world's most famous yacht mouths agape. And of course proceeded to drop one kajillion GBP in the gift store. How can you say no to fudge made on the Britannia? Or matching coffee mugs that say His Majesty and Her Majesty?

 

The "Honeymoon suite" and the one double bed onboard, 

requested specifically by Prince Charles for the Royal honeymoon

Then it was time to leave Scotland and head south again. Again relying on the map for inspiration, we stopped off at Lockerbie for lunch and a sad walk around the Garden of Remembrance.

Memorial Wall at Lockerbie's Garden of Remembrance

By dinner time we'd arrived at our final destination, the medieval town of Chester, recommended by Pittsburgh Mom and her husband. We had what everyone hoped would be our last fatty pub meal of the near future and hit the hay ready for The Final Day.

Quaint-as-all-getout Chester

Day 9. Sunshine! Beautiful!  So as much as we'd all been completely willing to backtrack to Liverpool to honor the Fab Four, it seemed sacrilegious NOT to spend the first beautiful day in months at Chester Zoo, Britain's biggest Zoo and the country's second most popular attraction (if the brochures are to be believed).

Good decision!  There were baby elephants!

Baby Giraffes!

Baby Gigglesnorts!

Then, sadly, it was time to head home to Bath.  I can't say it was a very relaxing trip;  we were never more than 4 feet away from both our children, we never got to drink wine and look at the stars or watch even five minutes of The Killing.

Still, we saw more of this beautiful country than most of our friends have, honestly, and shared experiences I know we'll all treasure (well, except Hugo but we'll show him pictures) for the rest of our lives!  It was the perfect way to start winding down our UK life. Hail, Britannia!!