Monday, November 7, 2011


Call it the curse of the weather. Call it sheer laziness. Call it an unsociability born of years and years of wanting nothing more than to be left alone to read my books. Call it what you will, but I love me a quiet weekend. I had the flat to myself, a wedding calling housemates north to Edinburgh. Coming from a freakily large family I crave solitude a whole lot more than the average person. It's all well and good to be able to shut your bedroom door, but to be totally alone to clean the kitchen while only wearing a bathtowel and belting out some stupid song with the unfortunate wooden spoon that just wanted to be washed, is something else altogether.*

So Friday night I hied me home to eat crumpets, read Game of Thrones (OBSESSED) and drink hot chocolate. Saturday caught up with some family to scream at the XFactor while drinking Oyster Bay (which the offie on the corner stocks specially) and then kicked through the autumn leaves over Putney Bridge on Sunday to see the beautiful Laura and new bub Jake.

I love me some babies. Despite the cat lady predictions of my delightfully numerous siblings, I'll leave the felines to others. Also the pictures of pandas dressed in tutus and meerkats and chihuahuas and all those other fluffy things that I think must be photoshopped (leave them some dignity peoples!). I'll take the babies anytime.
* Not saying I did these things.

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