Finished reading: The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman 📚
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So very delightful. I laughed out loud many, many times (to the concern of my family).
The local grocery now has some pre-cooked paella I’m very happy* with. Lunch sorted for the rest of my life.
*The fried rice is a no. My taste buds won’t allow it.
A timely read for me as I contemplate writing something for my kids. Maybe a mental note to burn my diaries at some point.
We don’t need to set them in stone for all to read, because probably by the next day the thoughts or feeling will have changed anyway, on to something else. The purpose of a journal for many is for self expression, for working through what plagues the heart or mind. It’s not written for the public at all.
Is it right to publish Joan Didion’s diary posthumously, without her consent?
10:15ish pm — My 4yo is still awake 😭
PS — He does not sleep in.
Another illustration inspired by Jeska’s tableaus. It’s such a lovely way to watch seasons go by.
News! There are good people out there!
I had to stop just before the 🛑 sign near turn off to P Road because T’s seatbelt came undone. I got out of the car a little flustered. Two cars stopped to check if I was okay and needed help. Two mums. A simple gesture of good will I’m grateful for.
I want to write something about several friends I made on Instagram of all places. I don’t have time right now but in an effort not to forget here’s a dahlia bookmark of ‘Dennis’ bred by Iona. I have never met her in real life but I grow one of her flowers in my garden — a connection I treasure.
Confetti from the after party.
All the more I respect steadiness and thoughtfulness in actions. Let this be another data point (for my own personal use, but happy to share with those in need) that it doesn’t pay to shame people into change. It just doesn’t work. The net effect is negative. Call people in, not out.