Friday, August 07, 2009

Card, other plans and falling in cords.

We would very much like to sell Nick's flat in Tunbridge Wells so that we can buy our family home. Is anyone looking for a cool-in-summer and warm-in-winter one-bedroomed ground floor flat in a street (just 12 minutes walk from the station) with blossom trees and dramatic sunsets? The house is Victorian gothic in style, and makes visitors say 'wow'. Please do get in touch if you're interested.

1. Opening a new packet of card (ghost white, and cloudy smooth like stretched silk) to test print our wedding invitations.

2. The estate agent (who commented that we looked very happy as we arrived for the viewing) offers us a lift home. We say no, because we're stopping on the Pantiles for ice creams, which we are going to eat as we walk home through the woods.

3. Lying in bed and listening to the rain falling. I learnt a French phrase the other day which Proust considered a cliche -- il pleut des cordes (it's raining ropes) -- but it's new to me, so I'm going to enjoy it.