Another Thing the Dutch Got Right

Besides cheese, countless tulip varieties, state-funded home birthing, and the cutest mass-transportation system ever, the Dutch excel at anything bicycle related.  That's one of the first things you notice when you enter Holland, and especially Amsterdam:  bikes everywhere.  On every street, sidewalk, and train car; leaning up against streetlights, railings, and building; and hauling everything from adults to babies to groceries to construction materials.

Now, admittedly, I've never been a big bicyclist.  The most I've ever ridden one was in college and law school, where my bike was pretty much a grin-and-bear-it necessity to get from either my dorm or apartment to campus, usually in chilly temperatures and high winds (Flagstaff) or in 100 degree heat and unrelenting sun(Tempe).  Now that I live in a more year-round temperate area, I've toyed with the idea of taking my Schwinn out for a spin, but I am daunted by the hills in this city.  The last thing I want to encounter at the beginning of my ride is a steep hill that forces me to dismount like some sort of wuss.  That's right:  I own a bike, but I haven't been on it once since we moved here.  It's basically sitting in the garage right now, forlorn and lonely.

So, clearly, I do not need one of the beautiful, basket-boasting bikes offered by My Dutch Bike, a newish shop on Market Street that I happened to pass not an hour ago as I made my way back from a bank errand.  As I'm not a dilly-dallyer in any sense of the word, it takes a lot for me to stop and window shop when I'm in the middle of completing a task.  But I had to stop in my tracks and gaze longingly at the Dutch bikes for sale in the window:  bright colors, big wicker baskets, sturdy-looking frames, Dutch names like "Omafiets" (granny bikes) and "Bakfiets" (cargo bikes).  According to the website, these bikes are meant to last a lifetime and they look like they're up to the task.  (And they better, at $1200 a pop.)

Perhaps most importantly, My Dutch Bike makes it clear that "with our bikes you don’t require a wardrobe overhaul."  They're equipped with all sorts of protectors that would allow a girl to take a ride in a skirt and nice shoes and not be splattered with water or mud or dirt when she reaches her destination.  And that's quintessentially Dutch: to use the bike as a constant companion, whether in office, formal, or weekend attire.

Thinking about the Dutch attitude toward bikes has kind of inspired me.  Maybe what I need to do is give the Schwinn a bright paint job, add a wicker basket, plot a hill-avoiding ride, and then go out and enjoy myself.

Alemany Flea Market

We're in search of a craft desk for Cole, so the past two Sundays we've walked down to the Alemany Flea Market, which is held just a few blocks away from our apartment where they have the farmers market on Saturdays.  This time we went much earlier, and the market was bustling.  I'm pretty confident that it's the type of place where you could find a few Antiques Roadshow-worthy treasures if you were willing to sort through the piles of junk.  I saw a couple of midcentury modern pots and lamps that I would have liked to buy--good thing we only had $8 in cash between us!  It helped us to stick to our plan to not just blindly accumulate stuff now that we have a larger apartment.

Cole aptly renamed the market "hipsters and hoarders" because that's the majority of people you see there.  You've got hipsters decked out in their finest ironic outfits mingling with people who can only be described as eccentric and/or possibly homeless.  Add to that the plethora of stuff piled on every available table and surface, and it's a lot to take in.

Some of the market's items and sights.

My new haircut!  And a hipster wearing a onesie.

Ice cream shop chairs!  And an awesome chandelier.  It's got great colors right now, but I think it'd be cool to spray paint it all one color and go from there.

A crazy truck that we had to photograph.  The writing off to the left reads, "I wanna be your junk man."

Unfortunately, we did not find a desk for Cole, but I scored two nice succulents.  We followed up the market with lunch on our roof and then a walk to the Glen Park Festival since the weather was so nice.  Last night I noticed with shock that my arms actually got sunburned.  A rare thing in San Francisco!

Micro Planting

Yesterday afternoon I was doing some potting and had a few extra cuttings left over, so I grabbed this tiny pot that my mom made in one of her ceramics classes.  I've always loved it and I think it looks perfect cradling a couple of tiny succulents!

The Joys and Pains of Living in an Older Apartment.

We've been settling into our new apartment--new to us, but standing and housing people for almost 100 years now.  Generally, I love living in older buildings.  The apartment we just moved from was built in 1928 and I lived in a sweet little house in the Coronado Historic District in Phoenix that was built in 1934.  For better or for worse, I seem to always let the charm of these places outweigh their drawbacks.  And I'm glad that I do, because there's nothing insurmountable in them.  I'd rather live in a place with a lot of character and face some challenges than live in a new, bland, cookie cutter house.  That's just me, though.  I know plenty of people probably highly value and appreciate the ease and newness of their tract homes and wouldn't trade places with me for even a day.  That's great--more vintage apartments available for me to inhabit!

These are some of the things you just have to accept when you live in a flat that's almost 100 years old.  First, there's a severe lack of outlets, and even where there is an outlet, chances are it's just an old two-pronged one.  This forces the apartment dweller to be creative with a lot of extension cords, and then, if you're me, to try to camouflage said extension cords because I hate having cords in plain view (looking at a tangle of cords running down or along a wall actually turns my stomach).  This situation also makes you carefully consider which electrical items you really and truly need.  So that's a positive--anything that cuts down on clutter is a good thing, in my opinion.

Second, you're going to be dealing with old windows.  Old windows don't block out a lot of sound outside and also aren't very well insulated.  It might mean that you have to get used to hearing some street noise and that you'll have to put on your robe and thick socks in the morning when you roll out of bed.  But it also likely means that when it's raining outside, you'll be more able to hear the pitter patter of drops or the steady beat of a downpour, such as the one we had on Sunday.  And it means that while you're soaking in a hot bath on a particularly blustery evening, as I was a week or two ago, you'll be able to hear the wind rattling the windows and feel all cozy inside.  You'll get to enjoy beautiful old window casements, too, and a lot of light.

Next, you'll be faced with a bathroom that probably isn't updated in the least.  This is the case in our new apartment.  I'll admit I was a bit horrified when I realized (after we signed the lease, of course!) that the bathroom doesn't have even ONE outlet.  Luckily, neither Cole nor I require a battalion of electric implements to get ready in the morning.  About a week ago, it dawned on me that we could easily use the blowdryer in the bathroom--despite the dearth of outlets--by running a cord right outside the bathroom to a kitchen outlet.  Problem solved.  This bathroom is also equipped with a very old corner sink.  It's one of the tiniest sinks I've ever seen, and has two separate taps--one for hot water and one for cold.  It takes a special touch to get the temperature just right so that you're not washing your face with scalding hot water on the left and freezing cold water on the right.  But this bathroom has its charms to offer, too--such as the delicate vintage black and white tiled floor and its big, sunny window.

If you're lucky in your search for an apartment, you might find a place with the original hardwood floors.  We had beautiful hardwood floors in our last apartment--but unfortunately, so did our upstairs neighbors, meaning that we heard their every movement.  This time around, our apartment has original hardwood floors in every room except the kitchen and bathrooms.  The floors are a work of art, really--but they also have a couple of lifetimes of scratches and wear.  They need some care to bring them back to their original luster.

I won't even go into the interesting/challenging state of the garage on the ground floor of this building.  Suffice it to say that if a person were willing to brave some dust and cobwebs, s/he might just find some treasures in the piles of stuff previous tenants have left behind.  This was the case in our old building too.  Unfortunately, I'm not that into dust and I despise spiders.  One of these days, though, I may brave the potential critters and inspect a vintage mirror that's hanging in the garage and appears to have been abandoned.  Antiques Roadshow, anyone?!

Despite all of these challenges, I love living in older buildings.  I can look up and see different decorative molding in every room, walk down the hall and smile at the vintage phone nook with its tiny seat, use the lever on the stairs to open the door from 10 feet away, and enjoy the beautiful built-in cabinet in the dining room.  They just don't make places like this anymore, so I feel lucky to get to experience one for a year or two.  Or ten--right about now, I don't ever want to move again.

Congrats!

Congratulations to Karie and Nate!  The wedding was so beautiful and so much fun.

Succulent Love.

I MUST have a succulent wall like this at some point in my life.

And a raised bed planter like this...

So I can nurture awesome succulents like this...

And this.

Ode to Mustard

Over the past six months or so I've developed an ever-growing affinity for mustard yellow, well, anything.  And although I've amassed a variety of mustardy accessories and clothes, I have yet to integrate this wonderful color into a paint scheme in the apartment.  White walls, beware.

Might I also add that I've become somewhat of a connoisseur of the condiment itself?  I've always preferred mustard over that dastardly red sauce called ketchup, but lately I just can't get enough of the yellow condiment.  Though I love trying new types and flavors, I always seem to gravitate back towards my very favorite, spicy brown.

I was ordered to be dressed up and ready to go on a surprise date last night, so I chose my newest Anthropologie dress, mustard tights, and black heels.  It turned out that we were going to the San Francisco Ballet!  The whole night was wonderful...seeing the SF Opera House was amazing, with all of its ornate decor and lushness, and the ballet program was comprised of three totally different and unique acts:  one classical, the Haffner Symphony; one entirely modern, called Underskin; and Russian Seasons, a dance that fell somewhere between classical and modern but used color and music so uniquely. 

Watching the other attendees and their fashion choices was also a feast for the eyes.  I feel pretty cultured right about now.

Wise Keys

Cole brought these owl key covers back for me from Portland.  They make me happy. 

Plus, they smell like pool toys and/or the inside of VHS cases (a pleasing scent, to which Kendra can attest).

Our Bedroom on Apartment Therapy!

This morning one of my favorite design blogs contacted me to see if they could feature the painted wall in our bedroom on their site.  As if I'd say no!

The lovely post is here with a photo I shared of my scalloped-edge paint job.  It was worth the four hours and very sore arm and hand.  This is a technique I'd use again in our apartment with all of the walls that curve up to meet the ceiling--but I think it probably works best in a room that can stand a bit of whimsy.

Thanks for putting our bedroom in the limelight, Apartment Therapy!

Settling In

As of Saturday, we've lived in our new apartment for two weeks and I finally feel like we've settled in.  Meaning that most of my major projects have been accomplished, like painting the kitchen, bathrooms, and our bedroom and finding the perfect place for all of the furniture.  True to form, however, I already have a new list of projects forming in my head.  Now, if work could just stop getting in the way of my project time.

Upcoming projects include:

--Planning out and putting up our hallway photo wall.  I've assembled all of the frames and am planning on black and white photos as a unifying element.

--Reupholstering the dining chairs.  I've had the fabric for a month or two; I just need to find the time to start on this.

--Organizing and putting the finishing touches on the sunroom/craft room.  With luck, we'll get Cole a desk this week and everything will fall into place from there.

--Sewing a sink curtain for the bathroom and cafe curtains for the kitchen.  This is really a project for Cole and her sewing machine, but I picked out the fabric :)

--Potting and repotting lots of plants.  Our front steps are just begging for more greenery and succulents abound in our new neighborhood!  Free cuttings everywhere...

--Formulating a plan for our rooftop deck, hopefully with the help of our neighbors, who also love plants.  I've been fantasizing about growing vegetables up there and getting into beekeeping!  Our sunny roof is the perfect place for this.

Such Great Heights

Yesterday after work I walked (no, actually hiked) up to the top of Bernal Hill from our apartment.  I'd been up there once before but hadn't explored much.  Like most San Francisco parks, Bernal Heights Park is naturally beautiful.  All of the different wildflowers and succulents on the way to, inside, and from the park sidetracked me and I was wishing I was better at identifying them.  I would have loved to have been a botanist.  Or a linguist.  Because I love plants and languages.  But I digress.

Here's a photo tour of Bernal Heights Park, on a chilly, windy day!

A garden at the base of hill before you go up to the park.

Looking the other way from the garden towards the park.

Not at the top of the hill yet, but looking southeast towards the bay.

The view of downtown San Francisco.  You can just make out the Bay Bridge at the upper right.

Um, a park wouldn't be a park without some graffiti.

Looking toward our old neighborhood and the Golden Gate Bridge.

Shaded stairs.

Looking towards the top of the park.

Big hair after being out in the wind for an hour.

A garden on the way home.  I love poppies!