Erin

It all began back during the apocalyptic rain storm we had a couple of weeks ago. I woke up one morning to the rain crashing down against my window, a gloomy glow cast across my room, and cuddled my pillow snug in my warm woolen sweater. As I laid in bed enjoying the rain lullaby and warmth of my bed I was reminded of a similar morning nearly six years ago. It was 2004 and I was a heavily black eyeliner-ed, jeans, flip-flops, and hoodie wearing nearly 17 year old who was currently trying to grow out a bad hair cut and dye job (two words, Purple Poodle). And despite my poor taste in footwear I had somehow ended up in a magical place I like to call Ireland. That summer I got to spend three weeks touring England, Wales, and Ireland and in my tiny brain I'd hit the jackpot.

Leading up to that trip all I could talk about was going to England. I had long been obsessed with England and Scotland, and since I wasn't going to Scotland, I was sure as heck going to lap up everything about England I could. We spent the first few days of the trip in England, then moved on to Southern Wales. I was in heaven. I was seeing things I'd read about my whole life, things I'd dreamed of seeing someday. I woke up every morning with pure joy in my little heart. I was in England. My family and friends had joked about how the country was not going to live up to my expectations and I would end up hating it. Of course this made me determined to love everything about that trip. And while I did love England, and it did live up to all my hopes and dreams, there were many things about that trip I absolutely hated. Being there was the only thing that made that trip bearable.

The other kids were dumb, rude, disgusting, annoying, and more interested in buying cigarettes and booze than walking in places that had stood for 1000 years! I remember calling my mom one morning (her morning) and being near tears about how horrible the other kids were. I didn't have a single friend on the trip, just kids I got stuck with (we had to be in groups of three or more at all times and it was the most annoying rule I have ever had to adhere to), or I stuck with the leaders. At least they wanted to got through every room in the freaking castle we were in. But it was hard. I never really got home sick, but it was annoying having to schedule my phone calls so I could actually talk to my mom and dad. The second half of the trip we had easily accessible email, which made things so much better, but still sometimes a 16 year old girl really needs to hear her mom's voice (sometimes a nearly 23 year old girl needs to hear her mom's voice too, but that's not the point :-)). By the fifth day of that trip I realized I was not going to be making any lasting friendships, so I decided to just focus on the fact that I was actually there and I was going to enjoy it dammit.

We were in Cardiff when I came to this decision. I liked Cardiff (and I sware I saw Charlotte Church, but sadly have no proof), I loved the Roman section of Cardiff Castle, argued with a tour guide ( some of them were just stupid and by the end of the trip I got banned from answering questions so I would stop arguing with the tour guides), and had and interesting experience in a shop who's outward appearance was quite deceptive as to what it actually contained (this would be my first (and last) experience with edible underwear). We left Cardiff and drove to the coast to catch an overnight ferry to Ireland. That's when the trip got interesting.

There were two people who didn't get seasick on the ferry: one of our leaders, and myself. I have always loved the ocean (I hate sand, but the ocean makes up for it). When I was a little girl we spent every summer in Oregon and were there for my birthday. Birthdays meant going to Lighthouses and hearing "creepy" ghost stories and dreaming about being the lighthouse keeper's daughter dressed in a white linen gown, pining for my sailor out at sea. I was a very romantic child. I don't get sea sick at all and love nothing more than being rocked to sleep by the ocean's lullaby. I remember being on the deck of our ferry watching the sun set as the sea mist sprayed my face. It was bliss. Then I went to bed and woke up in the middle of the night to find some people (I'm still not entirely sure who) getting freaky in the bunk above me. I went back to sleep dearly hoping the next day would be a better one.

The next day I woke up to Ireland.

We docked in Cork and met our incredibly charming coach driver, PJ. he looked like a leprechaun. As I entered the coach he saw my name tag and smiled at me. "Well there's an Irish name if I ever did see one." I smiled back. In the week I'd been in the United Kingdom, no one had ever miss pronounced my last name.

I sat near the front of the coach and listened as our English leader argued with our Irish Coach driver whether Ashley Barrett was a good Irish or English name. When I interjected that my middle name was Louise, PJ claimed his prize. "It's Irish," he said, "No doubt about it." Smiling and feeling rather delighted about being "claimed" by my happy leprechaun, I finally turned to look out the window. I'd been so taken by PJ and his funny manner, I'd forgotten to even look around me. It nearly made me cry to do so. I had never seen anything so beautiful in all my life. The green of the earth was bright and vibrant against the patches of gloom in the sky. I had fallen in love with that country within the first hour of my being there. It was as if the minute I stepped foot on the lovely green soil, something magical happened. I am a firm believer in the Magic of Ireland.

As we drove through the various places we went, PJ gave us a history lesson, sang us old Irish tunes, or told us stories in his soothing oratory. While the others slept as we drove, I couldn't. there was too much to see, and hear. I loved everything about being there. My home stay family were so wonderful. They wanted to know everything about us, they brought us to a pub for dinner and bought us cokes and told us about their lives and laughed when I told their son I didn't speak troll because he was mumbling at me. Our home stay mom had gone to school in America and asked us about things that had changed. The next day her best friend came over and we showed them pictures from home and they freaked out about the palm trees and how "lovely" they were. I never wanted to leave.

It wasn't just the people that made me love it. It wasn't just the rain, and lovely gloominess. It wasn't even how heartbreakingly beautiful the whole country was. There was just something in the air, some intangible force that made me love this place so very much. I took the most pictures in Ireland. Everything was a Kodak moment. I remember one day we were driving to the Ailwee caves and as we drove down the road we passed some ancient wall covered in ancient carvings. It was just an instant flash that I saw them, but I wanted to see more I wanted to spend as long as I could there, just looking.

The day in question was while we were staying in Lisdoonvarna. Someone had converted a castle into a hotel and we were staying there. The night before we'd gone to a Ceilidh. They taught us a jig, played some Celtic music, and I just about died of happiness. The next morning I woke up to the rain pouring down, hitting my window. being that we were in a castle, they apparently felt the need to give us the castle experience. That or they didn't have central heating. Either way I huddled down in my woolen blankets (in July!) and smiled. In that moment I decided that this was officially my favourite place in the world. There were so many things I did there, so many things I saw, that I could talk about them for hours. My love for Ireland is boundless.

Whenever it get's rainy here, or when I really need a bit of an escape, I go back through my pictures from that trip. Instantly I am back there, the wind swirling my hair in my face. I'd give just about anything (left lung included) to go back. I've wanted to go back since I left. Thinking about that part of my trip makes me smile so widely.

My mom and I were talking a few weeks ago about that trip and some of the things we did and she asked me if I'd like to go back there now, with an older perspective. The answer is of course. And someday I will.

But I promise to pack less jeans and black eyeliner this time.

There are a few more pictures on my flickr here.

We'll call it a draw.

I'm so sorry about how late this is, but let me tell you about my day:

Dress, Sweater, Necklace & Slip- Vintage

Earrings- F21

Shoes- Payless

I started editing the Novel I Wrote Two Years Ago And Am Still Finishing about two weeks ago. I'm now in the middle of chapter 3. It's been fun, and frustrating, but mostly fun. Until last night. Last night I was at "Particularly Boring Section" and kept reworking things over and over again. The diologue didn't flow, the timing was off, the subject was boring, it just wasn't working. So in frustration I saved my work, closed the programme and decided to switch gears and work on some music. I started to tune my guitar. My G string broke. It also sliced my arm. So i replaced the G string because someone was smart and bought two packs of strings last time she broke a string (it really doesn't happen all that often, but I am being dramatic). I tuned the A string. I moved on and tuned my B string, then moved on to tune the bottom E string. My E String broke. So I grabbed my string changing tool, slipped in under the doo-hicky that holds the strings in, began to pry it up and SNAP! the top of the doo-hicky broke off. At this point I gave up and went to bed. except I couldn't really sleep all that well and somehow managed to wake up (late I might add) with botha stiff neck and horribly sore throat. Also I'm pretty sure I was having hot flashes last night, because even though it was cold, I kept kicking off my blankets because I got too hot. I knew it was cold, but I kept kicking the stupid covers off anyways and was rewarded with a dang sore throat. Good job Ashley.

So then I got to work, there was no parking, this and that happened, and it was like I just couldn't win. So I focused on finishing up the petition I needed to get done and was desperately scrambling to finish it up before their appointment, because they had given us all their bills going back to 2001! I even found one that was from my 15th birthday. Then they never showed up. SO finally I left work and went to my favourite music shop on my way home. I went in told the guy what I had done, grabbed even more strings, and the tool to replace the strings (did I mention that I broke that as well?) only to find out that the doo-hicky I broke was only fifty cents to replace and that the strings were buy one get one! So yay, the world doesn't hate me! So then I left to run to a pub I went to on Friday where I left my phone. Turns out this pub's alcohol license was susspended starting today until the 19th! So now I've got to see if I can get ahold of them and get my phone or if I have to wait ten days until they open again. So then I took the

back way home and stopped at a store because I am out of the wavy hair stuff I use. I search the store only to find out they have now discontinued this line so I'm without wavy hair spray stuff. The only saving grace about today was that it was rainy and lovely and I had on pretty shoes. I'm saying that today was a draw: no one really lost, but no one won either. But anyways.

So this is what I wore yesterday, which was a very spring-ish day. The dress is the one I bought on Sunday and I just love it! It's made out of a sheer rayon and will be perfect for warm days. The neckline is so pretty and delicate and i just love the print! I don't own much in the way of floral prints and I don't even own many pastels (I am convinced I look horrible in pastels), but this dress won my heart from minute one!

Anyways, that is all for now. I am going to eat some chocolate and do battle with a novel. Here's to a less weird and downright strange day tomorrow!

How has your day been?

(And HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHARISSA!)

Old Town Orange

Those of you who are itching for spring are probably going to hate me for the next few days, so I ask you to take this post (and any other springy posts this week) with a grain of salt: for every spring-like day in February, there is a 110 day coming in May. So the grass is not always greener (even if it may seem that way! haha!).

That said, yesterday was an incredibly lovely day. My parents, Chelsea, Grace, and I all went down to Orange County to the Circle at Orange. The Circle is a downtown, open air, pedestrian mall in Old Town Orange. The place is filled to the brim with vintage and antique shops, retro inspired cafes, yummy bakeries (with cupcakes that are to die for!), and trendy hair salons. A lot of the places are overpriced and filled with things that I could get at Goodwill for $1.50, but there are some treasures to be found (which I will show you later this week, I haven't had a chance to photograph them yet). And to top it off, it was about 70F yesterday with a lovely breeze and nary a cloud in the sky! It made for quite a lovely day!

My little heart pitter-pattered!

Grace set up and styled this photo and insisted I take a picture.

The oldest malt shop in Orange.

Yummy Peanut Butter Milkshake!

I called this place Ashley Heaven and died for a little while there.

Yeah, like I said, Ashley Heaven

If this this hadn't been so stupidly expensive I would have so bought it for Charissa's (who's birthday is tomorrow!).

There is more here on my Flickr set.

FYI

Now you can Follow my blog with bloglovin!

Take me back to 1895

Yesterday I fell in love. With this house.

(Click all the images for a larger view)

I was out in Perris taking the back roads home, turned down a wrong street and ended up near this house which made me gasp out loud.

I went to go take pictures secretly hoping it was abandoned so I could sneak inside. My head filled with thoughts of finding remnants of times gone by hidden away in this magical place.

What I found was a beautiful house is horrible disrepair. I parked my car and got out, camera in hand, to be greeted by a pitbull across the street trying to break down the chain-link fence that surrounded the shack across from my house. A man, who looked like he would have felt more at home in a mountain cabin sat on the porch of the shack smoking a pipe. A pipe. He called off the pitbull as I began to take pictures. He watched me, clearly sure I could only be there for nefarious purposes. And because I technically was there for nefarious purposes, I tried to smooth it over with the old mountain man.

"Do you know if anyone lives here?" I asked.

"Yeah. My sister does." he replied. Crap. There went all my dreams of finding ancient artifacts buried in the attic.

"It's a beautiful house." I said still hoping he'd leave.

"It was built in 1895. The whole area around it was a farm." He said proudly. My heart skipped a beat. An old farm house, still surrounded by most of the old farm. It was perfection. Utter and complete perfection. The wind blew own the road and floated my skirt around my knees. Suddenly I was back in 1895.

Riverside was founded in the late 1800's. It was a heavily British expiates populated area. Some even jokingly referred to it as a British Colony. Riverside was founded for the specific reason of having a town dedicated to the production of Orange Trees. The first Navel Orange tree that was planted is still around and is gated up with a plaque telling it's tale. (For locals, it is on the corner of Arlington and Magnolia, where they cross each other.) Packing houses, train stations, delivery services, all popped up across the landscape. It became hugely successful. More and More people began to head west to stake their claim on success, and ended up in Riverside. The town boomed and spread and today Riverside County stretches to the border of California and Arizona. The more rural areas were where the farms were. My current neighbour hood was once an orange grove. Alot of city land is still taken up by orange groves, though many on the outskirts of town have since been demolished to make way for stuccoed track housing.

And yet my little house still stands. I'm sure it won't stand for much longer. I'm sure some enterprising housing development with come in a sweep away my little house. But for now I'm glad it's there. I'd love to rescue it, paint it up lovely, fix the broken windows, plant a little garden, put yellowed lace curtains in the kitchen windows, and breathe a little bit of life back into the old house. Imagine the things this house has seen! I wish I could find out more about it's history. Who build it? What did it look like then? Did they farm oranges, or was it something else? How I wish I could get inside! I want to know everything about the people who lived here. I can see in my head how they must have looked, a woman at the kitchen door, skirts billowing in the wind, hair piled high atop her head, calling her children and husband to dinner after a long day of hard work on their land. My curiosity had gotten the better of me, and I'm quite thrilled with that.

Finding this house wasn't just wonderful for my imagination, it was something I needed to find for me. As my moving away creeps closer and closer I am becoming more and more impatient with being stuck here. Despite my comprehensive knowledge of this two bit town, I really hate it. I mean really hate it. I've never liked it, but that doesn't mean that there aren't things about it that are beautiful and worth finding. Because there are. There are still abandoned houses to find, and hidden secrets just waiting for me to turn down the wrong street. And that's what I intend to do. From now until June I'm going to search out those secrets and hidden places. I'm going to photograph them and learn as much as I can. Because these things weren't meant to be forgotten, and even if I'm the only one who cares to remember them, they still deserve a memory. Maybe these next few months won't be so boring after all :-)

Of Apples and Moleskins

Cardigan- Vintage, Dress- Vintage, Belt- Vintage, Shoes- Target

When I came in to upload these pictures I was rather expecting something totally different. See I had no time to take photos before I got into work, nor did I have time to eat. So I took about five minutes and ran outside, apple in mouth, snapped three photos and ran back into the office to answer a phone call. To my surprise I actually really liked he way they came out! Considering that I forgot my tripod and had to prop my camera up on an electrical box which is at an awkward height, they actually looked pretty decent (well minus my face in the first one, I'm not sure what's going on there). Surprises like that are always so very nice.


So as you probably gather I kind of just threw this together this morning by grabbing the first dress I saw in my closet. I always forget how much I love wearing this dress until I put it on again and then I wonder why I don't wear it more often. The thing about it is this is one of those dresses that can be styled many ways, and doesn't need a whole lot to accompany it. So if say, you were up really late the night before because you got a bee in your bonnet about the way a song you wrote was written and you just really needed to fix it until 1:30 in the morning, then you can get up and put on this dress and still look presentable at work. Now if only your eyes would stay open.

On another note I finally bought myself a moleskin notebook, two actually, in an effort to organize myself. I'm such a terribly organizer! Seriously! I usually just let everything sit in my head and swirl around with no organizational system! Sometimes I feel like Donald in Mathmagic Land (it's the end of the clip at about 6:00), so I can't believe I've waited this long to get one! They are so perfectly perfect! However I do have one problem with the whole organizing myself thing. See I wrote notes to myself about things I needed to buy and on these notes I wrote down, "2 moleskin notebooks." Well I finally found these notes again and did as they suggested, but I can't honestly remember why I needed two. I know I had a specific reason for both, but I can't remember for the life of me.... Sigh. Clearly I needed these notebooks a long time ago.

How do you keep organized? I need all the help I can get!

Monday Inspiration #29: A Beautiful Arrangement

I have been loving eveyone's posts on Spring inspiration. Even though I am not done with Winter (though our weather would have you believe otherwise), I am really looking forward to Spring. Mostly because I really, really love flowers. The other day I was talking with Chelsea about how I think it would be fun to take a flower arranging class this year. So then on Friday I was in my favourite thrift shop and found a book from the 1960's on flower arranging! While some of the arrangments are a bit... overdone (not to mention really tacky!), they are still beautiful and charming in their own right. So here are some of my favourite arrangements from the book.

This is my favourite, mostly because it looks like it belongs on cake wrecks. I'm still trying to figure out the dead twigs....

My favourite flowers are Poppies and Roses. What are yours?