Real Life Social Networking

Now and then I veer off my chosen topic of decorating a casual, comfortable, low maintenance house for families. This is one of those times.

I am well known for the love/hate relationship I have with technology. While I appreciate the conveniences that technology brings to a busy life like mine, I worry that it's had a not-so-positive aspect to my human interactions with people outside my family. (And my Dad might argue they're not so great with those inside my family either.) I was horrified to find myself having this interaction with my husband one morning:

Me: "Ugh! I'm so frustrated! I can't figure out how to post this thing on your Facebook wall."

JP: "What would you like to say? I'm standing right here."

While Facebook, Twitter, email, Skype and texts all make it easier to stay in touch with people, they also tend to make those interactions less personal and the connections we make more superficial. So I'm happy to see a new lifestyle trend that at least partially counteracts that effect: The Communal Table.

Many restaurants are designing their interiors to include a long communal table, where you and your friends dine side by side with strangers. It's kind of like a dinner party, but without the host. My favorites are:

Outstanding in the Field

A bus that travels all over America throwing dinner parties in interesting locations.

Up to 100 people are seated shoulder to shoulder and enjoy a feast harvested from the local landscape and cooked onsite.

Camino

A restaurant in Oakland, CA with long tables and church pews. You can't help but engage in a conversation with your neighbor about the Wood Oven Baked Bucatini they ordered.

Le Pain Quotidien
A bakery originated in Belgium whose philosophy is:

Friends and strangers alike come together around our communal table to break bread and linger for a while. Take a seat next to a neighbor, share the Brunette and be reminded that, even in the big city, we are a community.

I still have to decide to leave my house in order to enjoy this trend. But when I do, I like the idea that I might meet an interesting new person or be inspired to try something new. I might even "friend" someone.

My Summer Stay-cation

Seeing that I had just returned from a 12 day trip around the world, the Furbers weren't too anxious to go away for the holiday weekend. Instead, we decided to stay home and pretend our house was a resort. The kitchen was the coffee shop, our backyard was the grounds, and our bedroom was our hotel room. We didn't even mind sharing a bathroom with the other guests.

• We slept in late.
• We lounged by the pool and had fresh towels every day.
• We sampled the local cuisine: mostly made with the 20 lbs. of cherries picked at the local cherry orchard.
• The girls and I made a big jar of minty water with fresh mint from our herb garden and gave ourselves facials.
• I explored the local terrain on my beach cruiser.
• We listened to music.
• We read our books.
• We watched movies and ate popcorn.

I must say, this is one great resort. Pencil me in for July 4th.

There's No Place Like Home

You may have noticed that Suburban Zen has been strangely silent for the month of May. I just returned from a 12 day trip around the world. I visited many interesting places that were decorated much more lavishly than my own home. My favorite was the Rajvilas in Jaipur, India. The hotel is a beautiful compound, situated on 32 acres of beautifully landscaped gardens, with a 200 year old Hindu temple at the center of it all.

There were wild peacocks freely roaming the grounds. (And I learned firsthand that peacocks sound like howling cats when they're calling to each other under your window in the early morning.)
My bedroom looked like this:

The view out my bathroom window was this:

We had dinner one night here:

I appreciated the Rajvilas for its beauty, noted that it was always clean and quiet, and liked that I didn't have to make my own coffee in the morning. However, it made me miss my own not quite so luxurious, slightly messy and very noisy house. The Rajvilas, and all my stops, were wonderful, but were missing one crucial ingredient: