January

January came and went surprisingly painlessly. Normally I find that it drags, slowly. Skiing for a week took a big chunk of it. Hard to feel low with the wide open sky and snow covered mountains. So that was part of it. But, also, January was filled with good things. Bloody Marys on a Sunday, a walk in Stoke Newington cemetery, pub roasts and dear friends. New friends too, river walks, post work drinks, tea rooms in old pet shops. Maltby Street market with one of my oldest and bestest, then the new White Cube gallery in Bermondsey. Friday nights out with the uni crowd, tapas then tiki, or in with spaghetti and friends made a year ago. Ceremonials pretty much on repeat on the ipod (And I am done with my graceless heart, so tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart). A breathtaking exhibition of the Scott Shackleton expedition photography, taken in too quickly one lunch break. Columbia Road flower market, which never disappoints. Walking home with the fattest bunch of Dutch tulips. Brunch at The Breakfast Club, pancakes stacked and syrup smothered, and at Dean Street Townhouse, Eggs Florentine, velvet covered seats and wonderful service. Cinema trips (Shame, The Iron Lady) and discovery of brilliant North London pubs.

No, January was not so very bad at all.