It feels so wrong that I didn’t post yesterday, one of the most monumental days in my calendar for a long time.
Kitchen. I bought the first copy from W H Smith. The lad had to get it out of a box it was not even unpacked. And it’s gorgeous. Brown print on almond paper. Over 190 recipes. Some gorgeous prose about a love of home cooking. Photos that surprise the heck out of you when you remember the scrappy little tykes in Nigella Bites that are now young adults with better, more stylish hair and clothes than myself. How did that happen? Where the heck did time go?
Managed a hair cut. Managed to engage the hairdresser. Turns out he is chatty. Just maybe a different type of person to me. I don’t assume you need a degree in Buddhism to be a buddhist. And I have no glamour model friends. To that end I feel inferior. And I did smile to myself when he commented about being unwilling to move somewhere as the locals would be too backwards in their hairdressing. I hardly think my standard fayre mens trim is avant garde, nor was the cut and colour to the retired lady behind.
Off to work I go!
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