All posts tagged: life

Bright Spots | Week Nine

+ a belated – and much beloved – birthday gift in a hamper full of teas (!) + cycling to dinner at my one-time flatmate’s new abode: tulips on the table, and excellent conversation, and lasagne, and chamomile tea + the most perfect date: veggie food, a wander round the biggest bookstore in London, topped off with a cone of gelato (winter, be damned!) + morning walks around the park, together + that cosy grey wool cardigan + another friday lunchtime friend date for grilled cheese and chat + the pair of docile cats who stole my heart this weekend + perfectly battered fish and chips, in excellent company + seeing the stars, such a novelty for this city girl

Bright Spots | Week Five

+ silver linings in a week that could have been all clouds + blue skies, juxtaposed by lurid green shutters + his safety, after a hair-raising incident – counting all my blessings and some + an unexpected, and much welcomed, trip to the Crescent House (as we call the family home) + chickpea and spinach stew: so simple, so delicious + grandparents, cats, gardens, magnolia trees + my best friends, my best boy, seated around one table + eggs for lunch, sitting opposite a dear old friend + café lattes for two + an overnight visitor, who arrived with the world’s best baklava in tow (thanks S!) + the evenings, not so black + books, books, books (just finished this one – in twenty-four hours!) + and a free weekend to curl with up with the words therein

Christmas Scenes

  Christmas around these parts was a lovely, albeit strange and slightly poignant, one for our family – my father flies east tomorrow, darting across the Channel and cruising over central Europe before reaching the ragged peaks of Central Asia, landing thirteen or so hours later in hot, sticky Singapore. It’s a route he has flown dozens of times before but this time his ticket is one-way and my mother will join him ten days later, traversing her own path through the air to their new adopted home. I’ll miss them, beyond words, but I’m giddily excited for their adventure (and perhaps my own visit to Asia, somewhere I’ve never been…!) Added to that weirdness: my sister coming down with a virus so ghastly it necessitated intravenous antibiotics and a hospital visit, the strange spring-like weather (blossoms in the park?) and four extra relatives around the table to add to the 25th’s usual ten and this year has felt different, understandably, though no less satisfying. The festive period has still been marked by meandering strolls to dust off our cobwebbed souls, hours of eating …

Weekly Thanksgivings.

  No better time to give thanks than Thanksgiving, right? I often wish we celebrated the American holiday here too – I certainly wouldn’t refuse a day dedicated to cosy family gatherings, gratitude and sweet potato pie in the midst of gloomy November. Instead, I’ll celebrate Thanksgiving in spirit. Happy day of thanks, one and all! I’m thankful this week for brisk bike rides through the dark. I’m thankful for the joy bestowed in volunteering with a group of inspiring young women. I am thankful for the possibility of hot chocolate, which I rarely end up purchasing – and yet the simple knowledge that I pass too many coffee shops to count on my way home is enough to sustain me on cold winter walks to the tube. If I wanted hot chocolate, I could have it – and when I do, it’s sublime and creamy and all this cold-handed glove-forgetting girl could wish for. This week I’m thankful for memories of a lovely weekend with my sister, for my new mauve-grey bedroom walls, for evening yoga, for real French camembert, for new friends, for …

Bad-Day Blessings

I woke to clean sheets and rain, my favourite – a gentle pitter-patter against the window frame. But sometimes, even rain can’t set a day off right. Sometimes you’re just grumpy. A day starts off on the wrong footing. And then, as if the law of averages has been turned on its head, the wrongs pile up and overshadow the good. Nothing life-threatening – but suddenly the morning rush seems an unassailable hurdle, you can’t shake the frown. You smudge your mascara, lose your patience, shed a tear at your own unkindness as you run to the station. Your hair is still damp, your eyes are creased. You miss the bus, spill your tea, lose an earring – all before the clock strikes ten. But when you get to work – late – there’s a cup of coffee sitting on your desk. Your colleague beams at you and you find a forgotten Granny Smith, green and lustrous, in your drawer, fit for elevenses. Maybe the day isn’t such a bad one after all, you think. …