There's Bourbon in My Beer and Possibly Scorpions in the Grass

Not quite big sky country, but close. 

Given that we're now Californians, we decided to live the lifestyle. Mr Findingmoxie has found himself a recreation center with an outdoor pool and is seriously smitten with swimming outdoors in mid-October. In fact, he emphasized this just before blog went to press. That's how much he delights over all of you. But don't fret, dear friends, where delight ends, farmer's tan begins. Sure, you might wonder that he's swimming in the sun, but conscientious as he is with sunblock, that's one farmer's tan that's not going anywhere. That's one of the many reasons, I'm grateful to be a lady: strappy tank tops and boob tubes keep the dreaded farmer's tan away. 

California's got a lot to offer, but frankly that's proven a bit hard to believe living in the suburbs (and subtext: living with my parents makes me feel like a stroppy, bored teenager all over again). It comes as no surprise that life in Los Angeles is worlds away from our life in London, sprawling sun-land versus city-scape, but the devil is in the details. While my parents don't live in the wilds of LA county, there is still a good 5 minute drive to anything resembling coffee or life as we know it. Gone are the days of nipping out on foot to Gail's Bakery on the corner for a flat white and a scone. That small detail (besides the weather, the people, the food) is a sucker punch that gets us every time. I'll be honest, that's been a struggle and cabin fever is very much an issue. The moxies miss being able to get around on our own steam, the old get-out and get.  Granted, the upside is that my shoes will have a longer lifespan and I can take 4-inch wedges on a day out without a single qualm. Give and take, I guess.

Mr Findingmoxie working on his farmer's tan.

So, we're working on it. Working on enjoying the simpler pleasures. Like hikes. Yes, hikes. Or, as much a hike as my limited shoe collection will allow me. Mint green fitflops aren't exactly all terrain friendly. We're lucky enough to have a nature reserve just minutes away from my parents home with easy trails: El Escorpion Park. Yes, I try not to think too closely about it. For the record, I haven't seen a single scorpion in the park and I hope NEVER to. Actually, we didn't see a single critter, so maybe the park was taking it easy on us. It's coyote country and I'm not really sure I can handle that sort of outdoorsy at this point in my life. Walking a trail surrounded by canyons, the sun high and the sky wide, and the wind whispering through the long grass, is probably as peaceful as you'll ever be in the San Fernando Valley.

Forget the hiking though. What we're most excited about is the beer. Oh, the beer. Sure, England has those cask ales and stouts that I love, but here in the US, we're rocking all kinds of darling little microbreweries. So, what better way to get involved than go to beer-tastings. That is correct, beer-tastings. With pretzels to cleanse your palate and a few fingers of beer to sip, this is probably the most fun we've had with booze without the hangover. The beer-lier is nearly completely dead-pan, so you're never sure if he thinks you're funny or you're a drag. Two tastings in, I think we're winning him over; Mr Findingmoxie doesn't wish to speculate. The other patrons are just as interesting and obsessed with breweries. Brewery-lust is the new classic-car-lust. We've tasted IPAs and sampled Rich Fall Brews, and made an AMAZING discovery. A black IPA. Seriously. It's a marriage between stout and IPA--mine and Mr Findingmoxe's opposite tastes in one snazzy looking bottle with some righteously good flavour. It's Speakeasy's Butchertown and it has shifty spy EYES. I think I've also found my sipping spirit--in a beer. Turns out beer aged in bourbon barrels tastes just enough of bourbon with just enough of a burn that I can pour it into a snifter, swirl it around and drink it on moody winter nights like it is bourbon.             

Another perk of California is being back in the thick of my family and let me say that while we've been angsting about our move for the last few months, these guys have done nothing but get excited. Just the Saturday after we landed, Mr Findingmoxie got his first taste of what my extended family looks like in one room. It's fairly similar to a Liverpool party, only with louder adults and less children. Slightly uncomfortable with our newfound celebrity status, I spent most of the evening being expertly interrogated on my career prospects, relocation plans, and our philosophy on child-rearing all the while being plied with delicious Persian food. Mr Findingmoxie fared slightly better. Most people just wanted to hear his English accent. Our popularity earned us another family night, with my uncle declaring he'd come over to make his famous pizzas for us. That was the promise, but in the end, we got wrangled into doing most of the dirty work ourselves. There is a certain joy in arranging your own pizza toppings though, but I suspect that speaks more about my control issues than anything else! I will say that my cousin's advice on cutting pizza slices has changed my life. In the kitchen, anyway!

My pride and joy

Next up: we haven't been out to the beach yet, which is shocking considering that's a huge selling point for Los Angeles. Plans are for heading out on Sunday as the temperature is set to spike again. Although, have to admit that my soul feels a bit bruised by going bikini body in October, after having automatically given up on summer. Oh well, bikini is a state of mind and I hope to be there by Sunday!