This post is my personal love letter to my very special new home. Finally, I'm where I belong.
This week pushed me to the edges of my ability to cope. Luckily I took someone's hand and ended up seeing another story.
The tale of a love long unrequited, but for once not only at last returned but done so with more passion and depth than I ever thought possible.
A visual clue as to my radio silence.
A chill. A cosy gloom. The rain. This autumnal turn means a lot more than a handy topic of conversation for this particular Brit.
Competing with, and comparing yourself to a phantom takes your focus away from what's right in front of you.
In case you didn't catch the hint - I went to a carnival today, and I went alone. It was sunny, loud, fantastic and, inevitably, thought-provoking.
The New Yorker in the bath, writing gloves, Greg Proops and all the things that do and will have one particular thing in common.
The fear of using the word feminist in the excerpt because people will not want to read it. That is why I am a feminist.
Taking a little time to catch up, see what's happening and, more often than not, simply just laugh, doesn't half make you feel all loved and lovely.
Once seen, why do people not continue to notice, see and speak about a divide that seems to persist so silently?
A month in a montage. In other words, a visual tour of some sights I found to be worth seeing.
This weekend I attended the terribly hip and oh-so trendy London Coffee Festival. And it was absolutely bloody brilliant.
Safer, simpler cycling in British cities needs supporting...or specifically, backing.
An illustrated tale of two cities, a Flying Dog Galaxy, some red leather boots and a Flaming Zombie!