Cold mornings, late lunches and a new kitchen...

We woke this morning to foggy skies. Pillowy clouds rose above our heads and we pushed our faces into soft tufts, wanting time to slow down just for a few moments. I remember burying my head and feeling the seconds, slow and steady, pass around me saying 'I still have five minutes and here I am, in the first'. We always count the most maximum possibly ever millisecond that we can push to- usually it ends with flustered faces and no breakfast. I knew it would be hard to get out of bed each morning, but the still sounds of breathing next to me makes it easier to rise.

On another note, we are a week into the kitchen and I came home today to hurries cries from the dining room table, rushing me to see the new work. It possibly is everything I envisioned and more. In this moment - of late night stansted journeys and bubble baths - I am infinetly happy. 

I want badly to re watch The Railway Man. My heart breaks for modern World War Films (and Jeremy Irvine of course). I want clam pasta with a light herb and garlic sauce. I want Halloween and Christmas decorating. New year fireworks and birthday cakes. Short layers, thick scarves, floral silk tops and homeware magazines lacing our sofas. I want sunshine days that drag on until gone ten and Pimms evenings in golden light. I want thick charcoal barbecues and drinks with the girls. Tickets and plans and calander days that are ripped off quicker than I can count on my fingers. I can't believe how quickly time flies - and then, all at once, I can feel the seconds tick by, slow and heavy on blurry-eyed mornings. Time is a strange thing.