Is for Honfleur, homemade jams and helleborus.
Hyacinths, Hugh Fearnely (sorry O), home and huitres.
Hydrangeas, honey, happy days, honesty ‘n honeysuckle.
Hannah’s and Hannes, hypericum, and Herve.
Harold Lloyd, hollyhocks and how I love you’s. xxx

To Deauville, rolled up jeans, walking 300 metres out to sea and a gorgeous expo on the beach courtesy of Jacques Henri Lartigue.

Moules at Le Centrale, a very closed fleuriste (no loss flower friends) and a landrover zip hot on the heels of Gerard. xxx

Sunday brings us:

Cows a mooing in the back field.

The Gypsy retreat.

My teenage record collection.

Foire a tout finds.

A murder courtesy of Agatha.

An appointment with a fabulous Florist.

And and and getting jellybugs over a fashionable garden.

A Dior dance with Daschunds and dahlias? Ooh yes please. xxx

Sleep, sardines, sun, a hi to you and a hello to hydrangeas. xxx

Leaving flowers and milton tabs behind we’re in Paris – Mia Farrow haircut centraleroonie.

At Gustave Moreau’s pad I found myself in an artists boudoir…Don’t you love a bit of taxidermy and orchids?

Les filles are pretty in Paris, fashion is most deffo in the air and sod the boat I’m moving here

Soon I swoon, to a Gypsy retreat…delphs, creme fraiche, Duran Duran and thunderstorms.

xxx

Stroppy looks from les chats a plenty as we pack our valises full of shoes I won’t wear.

Last minute styling in Notting Hill then a dash to chelsea to deliver something beautiful.

Sweetpeas and tata to a bookshop in Blenheim.

French fashion friends and lace buying beckon.

A dash to Trouville for an O oyster fest.

Hooray don’t you love a little vacance?

is for Petula, pansies, pretty (so you are), pouilly, peacocks, petals, passion flowers, posies, primroses, Paul Newman, poppies, palpitations, puppies, penny for your thoughts, parsley, pucci, peaches, pencil skirts, peonies, peppermint, pinks, petunias, pearls, primrose, pumpkins and Paris.

xxx

Sigh, Not for all the tea in china and all the corn in carolina would I miss Mabel and a monday morn in Covent Garden.

The stillness of London as it whizzes by, the promise of a good italian coffee and a toastie chez Toni.

Knowing notes in my back pocket, and the market lothario swooning a foxy “Bonjour Mademoiselle.”

Today – a heady mix of heavenly hydrangeas, poppy heads and sweetpeas…a mountain of mustard flowers and italian sunflowers for a summer feast.

And with a tea and a prowl the invite of the market summer party, Boys £10…girls, £5 is always anticipated but never attended.

“Come on gal get your dancing shoes on…”

Don’t they know I only sashy to Stevie, foxtrot to Frank and boogy to Basie?

This week, Cole Porter and Claridges, Pansies and Paris and an escape to lavender land.
xxx

This weekend brought us a weekend of hanging out on the canal watching happy boaters go by listening to jazz.

We salute:

Pink champagne.
Lovely friends Nat and Zac.
Framed butterflies.
Dizzy saturday nights.
Writing comedy.
Bike Rides.
O and his razorclams, shrimps and swordfish.
Old school Hall and Oats

Walking in high heels (I can’t).
Talk of 50’s frocks (I love).
Flower friends (you’re lovely).
Thinning fennel in the veggie garden.
Arnold climbing trees.
An interesting flower meeting.
The arrival of ribbons.
Les do’s and don’ts of weddings.
And…On Guard a sweet poodle loving tale by The Waughster.

xxx

Counting down to Paris, this friday I’m feeling rosy, inspired by exciting petal plans, arranging blooms and styling for bakeries.

Feeling all Amelie, moodboarding, piling up postcards and searching for blue china. xxx

Vavavooms in June – a month that rocks and rolls when it comes to flowers in bloom.

I’m loathed to choose between Hydrangeas, Delphs, Sweet peas and Garden roses as they come in to their own.

But my oh my, old school Sweet William is mos- def up there as one of my all time favourites.

Happy memories of my Yorkshire Grandma arranging them in glass jugs come whizzing back.

This week we’re in need of new teatowels on the boat, been searching for floral work frocks and finding williamesque pals ahoy.

Of the actuel William, Dorian Grey adored, a NY pal has an really aptly sweet shop named after them and I loudly bang on about their edwardian charms.

Last year we did a wedding with avenues of buckets bursting forth – a cheap chic and riotous alternative to the normal pomp.

Today, working outside we’re counting wooden crates for flowers, wondering where to find low buckets and love love loving these girls.

Back now I go to sourcing beatonesque wrapping paper, hot pink brocades and a reasonable ribbon supplier… do they exist?