Blogging my way back to you

Woah.
Bet you forgot that this crazy girl existed.
I did.
but am back from the unwelcome hiatus of being myself that was my time at the job which for there is no description that can be befit by words.

Here is the last year minus said unverbable.

What a punchy beginning and now, 3 days later I'm still waiting for inspiration to strike. Ah well, may have to proceed sans inspiration and hope that it sidles up to me for the ride at some point along the way.

I think I'm gonna start by going backwards, how Jenn.

It is now May. Freaky. I am 30, or to borrow Tom's fave phrase triple x. Freaky x 3 Despite this heady proclamation I am in possession of neither the feeling of maturity or adulthood which one imagines in each of those years prior to such an age.

London continues to be mystifying and rewarding by turns, turns that are sort of reminiscient of a whirlygig. At the moment I am in the process of starting to build my yoga teacher business. I have 5 private students to begin with whixh is great.

My love of yoga continues to expand and I see its application in most aspects of daily life, something which I could go on at length about except that my tendency to go on at length after lengthy silences renders that an unwise proposition if I want anyone to make it through reading this blog.

A bientot mes amis . . .

Spain for Xmas

Xmas?
Yes, that was approaching six months ago!
: )

We went to Girona, a beautiful medieval Spainish city outside of Barcelona, on the sage and much appreciated advice of the lovely Spainyard in self-imposed Belgian exile Francesc. Thankyou Francesc!

Here we did engage in all manner of cliched (though no less enjoyable for it) episodes of rambling ancient cobbled streets, gourmand dining, market visits, coffee and chocolate indulgences and excessive consumption of laughing cow cheese (maybe not so cliched touristy the last, though the pension we were staying in insisted upon it as a breakfast fortifier in a way reminiscient of that motherly eat your carrots, it helps your night vision kind of way), to this day Imery cannot see it without.

We balanced out this break from the pace of london madness with . . .

Barcelona madness : )
Barcelona was only a 45 minute trip by train so we made the trip several times. It was here I visited my favourite thing in Europe to date -

The Miro Museum!!
Imagine several hours of natural elation. I was in heaven. I have lots of Miro works. Imery has lots of photos of me beaming.

We also checked out some really nice design stores. As per its reputation, Barcelona is a city of style cats and is not so much eye candy everywhere you looks as eye coffee - rather more smooth refined flavours than nasty sugar highs. The food convinced Imery that baby octopus and squid ink are not merely edible but delectable and initiated me into what I'm sure will be a life long love affair with real tapas.

We took a side trip to the Dali Museum which stewed my brain a bit with attempts to comprehend the man. It gave me a much greater appreciation of his work which previously I had identified with merely mysogyny and weirdness. The mental space that holidaying provides to allow you to properly engage with things like art is superlative worthy. His ideas and deconstruction of the concept of literal "wholes" really captured me.