Week Twelve | Friday night pub in Cambridge for a pre-wedding pint, that I successfully hemmed my beautiful floral dress and it made me feel elegant and comfortable and put-together, that my mama is home and my sister soon too, that it is now acceptable to eat hot cross buns for every meal and elevenses, that my friends and I had such a great time celebrating the first marriage in our circle, that we quietly celebrated our one-year-anniversary-of-
Week Thirteen | Easter everywhere, in the carpets of daffodils spreading like wildfire; in the skies that race overhead, one moment pale like ice, the next ablaze like fire; in the glass jars of foil-wrapped chocolate eggs; in the hot cross buns slathered with butter; in the fact that we are all, family, together again. Bank holidays, what an invention. That sewing class – a wonderful teacher taught me, once and for all, how to correctly insert a zip with appropriate zipper foot and now I’m all a’dreaming of the handmade dresses, skirts, coats and totes in my future! The week’s brightest bright spot was the arrival of the two Americans; what fun we had. A wild day racing around London on the prettiest day of the year: from the suburbs to Bank to Canary Wharf to Greenwich and back again. We rode home on the Thames Clipper, the wind whipping our hair, cheeks dappled in the golden hour, hearts full of friendship and the joy of the city feeling magical, enchanted, ours – even if only for the day.