In a sad dose of symmetry,

I'm to become a godmother for the first time in the same week that I lost my own perfect godmum. My Dogmum. She of the extraordinarily varied Christmas tapes - Ernie the Fastest Milkman in the West next to Bach into the Owl and the Pussy Cat - sent to a little goddaughter in a desert. The one who looked after my Mum when her father died and got her drunk and danced with her in the sitting room in the early hours. The one with the best laugh and the naughtiest wink. The one who let 3 students live in her summer house for days and never once suggested it might be a good idea to tidy up or draw the curtains. The one who understood, unquestioningly, why a little girl must have the biggest, cuddliest collection of stuffed pigs and who continued to contribute to it well into my 20s. I will miss you and try to be an eighth as good at godmothering as you. XXX

Sun on the right side of the road

London is cold and damp but I've just spent half an hour finding hire cars which must mean we are going to go somewhere sunny, sometime soon.

Blue and green

should never be seen, except with a colour in between. I absolutely do not agree. Nothing better as far as I'm concerned.

Oh, and I found a FIVE POUND NOTE on the floor on Friday night. The pound is peeved.

In celebration of a few things ground level

Today I finally found the first pound in my great Find a Penny challenge. It has been swiftly added to the jar and is settling in amongst some mildly disgruntled copper folk.

As I may have mentioned, I'm a big fan of looking and photographing up. But, today, in celebration of the shiny little gold coin that I found on the way to work,  I thought I'd highlight a few nice things I've spotted whilst keeping my eyes down. The first one's bunny feet in snow. Unseasonal but happy making, no?

Happy 4th

of July and a few postcards of love to New York. See you in the Autumn, you largest of Apples. xx

Alone (on purpose)

Since 7 o'clock last night, I've been alone. On purpose. And it's actually really nice. 

It's nice because you can screech to a halt and take photos of random signs without anyone saying you shouldn't drive like that. Because you can walk for miles on a sandy beach and really not think about anything of any note for 3 hours. Because you can meander along little country roads dodging rabbits, picking prickly purple flowers and wrapping them in the unread Sports section of the paper. Because you can decide that you don't want to go into a supermarket after such a blissful day and come home and combine the things lurking at the back of the fridge (strawberries, rocket, mozzarella and parma ham - delicious btw). Mainly because you know that you're lucky enough to have the option to stop going solo whenever you like and you are looking forward to seeing your best people again tomorrow.