Rounding the corner of my street in the bitterly cold November morning, I come face to face with a woman in a woolly hat. Simultaneously, we both jump, smile, and apologise, our breaths smoking into the morning air. It is a very British encounter.
We all have those moments of grace where the heavens conspire to deliver a slice of life too good to ignore. This blog is a receptacle for mine. Expect random (in every sense) observations, miraculous mundanities, and crimes against fashion; if it tickles me, I'll post it, as and when, no pressure.
2 comments:
Hail Britania
Hail, Brittainia [sic].
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