incommunicado

First off, thanks to everyone who has posted lovely comments, sent emails, called, and otherwise shown some love. We had a wobbly transition period into our new home due to some problems with the alarm system and needing to organize pre-scheduled work with some repair men and painters. Nothing major, but such things delay the process of making someone else's house feel like your home. To top it off, we have no internet at home currently and have been feeling a little too out of communication and cut off from the world for our tastes. Soon all this will be resolved and you won't be able to make us shut our pie holes. Consider yourself warned. 

Despite the housing hiccups, the last few days have been plenty full of good times. 

We moved in officially on Monday, but by Tuesday morning had no bowls, spoons, etc unpacked for morning breakfast. So Brendan got creative with his raisin bran. We are now much more settled and have graduated beyond such rustic modes of consumption. Last night we ate a delish vegetable risotto on real plates with real forks and had a glass of our wedding wine in real wine glasses. And this was in front of our first fire in our fireplace. It was all very charming and wonderful.

Parky-pants is settling into his new digs as well. In his prissier moments, he fancies himself as a striking mantelpiece decoration.

 

In moments of relaxation, he makes himself one with the arm of the sofa (this is a classic Parker maneuver, and I'm happy to see it is intercontinentally transferable).

We went on our first real date in Cape Town to Bella Lucia, a darling little restaurant in our neighborhood of Wynberg. 

The food was inspirational: lamb and chickpea stew, pasta rolls filled with butternut and goat cheese topped with arugula, pine nuts, parmesan, and brown butter, and amarula panacotta with carmelized naartjies (a South African tangerine). Heaven.

I've also started my driving lessons. 

It was largely uneventful- a few stalls, a few exasperated drivers stuck behind me, crazy South African taxi drivers giving me heart palpitations...the usual. I did, however, hit a curb at the end of my two hour lesson and managed to scuff the hubcaps on my instructor's brand new teaching car. Oops. She should be thankful that was the worst of my offenses. I am still finding having to make space in my brain to think about a clutch rather exhausting and will continue to fight the good fight toward investing in a manual transmission vehicle. Any support given would be greatly accepted :) 

An then, of course, there is sweet little Hannah.

I think this is probably the best note to end on.