A weekend of godparents, old and new, Victoria Park…leaf collecting, canals, open fires and reading this…because everyone elses blogs are full of pumpkins and soup recipes. Mine is not I’m eating a cheapo waitrose ready made Tiramisu.

xxx

Kinfolk.

An arty type sang this to me on a flower shoot this week …it happens, but gosh always as if it’s something new but never as well or as waspy as the Liber.

(want that bath) xxx

Just that, Flowers for Mr T and the Burberry gang xxx

Otherwise known as flower ways I never use but now love and fun-ness at a secret rock and roll haunt in Mayfair. Where else would I have a virgin Maggie May in my hand? That. Mimosa, early morning cherry, hydrangea, nerines, rosehip and dahlias.

My week in a cup x

I know, ou est tu? Teeny curly haired toddlers, flowers and OAP pussies occupy.

Throw in a dash of quicksand weddings, rollers in Rome and the craziness of adding to our little family. That said, I prom to get my blog mojo back and spill on a summer of silly.

This week we’re Somerset housing with Harpers godpapa and a zillion rocky red dahlias…bundles of pretty to come but to the show you must go. xxx

xxx