(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.