Hail, tartlets and raspberries.



1. I'm not happy at the thought that it's going to shred my tulips; but there is something unlikely about a hailstorm -- solids falling from thin air seems like magic.

2. Just as I am coming downstairs for a five-minute screen break, there's a tap at the door. Our friends have left a small gift of Easter tartlets on the doorstep. 

3. I can't think why my skin smells of raspberries until I remember that I helped Bettany wash her hair with new shampoo.

Popular posts from this blog

Cancelled, turning and shelter.

Meal, framed and spinach.

Winter coat, before the film and exhibition we didn't get to.