Dream Bags, Jaguar Shoes, Museums of Everything

Flowers from Dad brighten up my dressing-table, counteract the rain and grey skies. On Saturday I eat raspberries for breakfast with sheep's milk yoghurt, get a haircut in town, then later head East for two friends' birthdays, Vietnamese on Kingsland Road, cocktails at the fantastically named Dream Bags Jaguar Shoes, then on somewhere else, taxi ride home, can'trememberwhattimeImadeittobed. On Sunday Anna and I walk to Primrose Hill, wind blustery, stopping momentarily gaze at London's changing skyline, The Shaft creeping steadily upwards as the days go by. We go to The Museum of Everything which others have blogged about, marvel at the stuffed animals and collected paraphernalia. Fascinating, bizarre, colourful. No photography allowed inside. Afterwards we get takeaway hot chocolates, walk back home together past green moss and sleeping lions, wave each other goodbye at the corner. I think to myself how lucky I am to be back living so close to Anna, an old school friend, after those university years apart.