Our housing situation is in flux. The owner of the house we're renting wants to list it immediately, but our lease runs through 2019, with no showings allowed till December 1. Given that we have nowhere else to go, we'd prefer to stay here beyond December—and the house might sit on the market for months, as it has in the past—but only with an agreement that gives us substantial notice. While we try to come up with a mutually beneficial solution, to whatever degree one exists, we keep looking. Over the past six months, houses in Montecito have not sold quickly. That may have lulled us into a false sense of the sitch; two houses in Santa Barbara that recently piqued our interest went pending (an offer was accepted) after a day or two. Perhaps Santa Barbara is just different.
"I hope we find a house with some charm," Adam said the other day. Well, the price on the house pictured below was cut today... Can you imagine what went through the stager's mind when he/she saw this room? (The throw draped across the bed is a giveaway that the house was staged.)
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Breakfast at the delightful Ett Hem hotel in Stockholm featured an addictive housemade brown bread. I asked for the recipe, but it's in metric and includes ingredients not easily found here. I did my best, kind of, and the flavor was there—molasses, rye flower, and caraway, anise, and fennel seeds.... Even after baking it for 30 minutes longer than the (vague) recipe called for, however, the inside was gummy. I'm going to try again at a hotter temperature, unless anyone has another suggestion. (The bread did rise during baking, so I don't think it's a matter of leavening.)
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My nephew's wedding invitation included something I hadn't come across before. Has anyone seen my asymmetrical crop top?