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It’s a real shame that not a single game of the women’s Ashes series is being played in the north 😢 🏏
Kielder Water — walking: https://fragments.ekcragg.co.uk/kielder-water-walking?pk_campaign=rss-feed
Accidentally had breakfast in the yard this morning (was driven out of my usual spot by workmen setting up on the street outside). While I was there I fixed a few problems with my hanging baskets and overly keen tomatoes. Think I’ve discovered a new morning routine for the summer.
Popped into the toon this morning, it’s a beautiful day
Finished reading: Last Night at the Telegraph Club by Malinda Lo 📚
Forgot I had to post about this for it to count towards my reading goal. It’s a charming YA novel about discovering who you are.
Finished reading: My Name Is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout 📚
Quick weekend read.
Test print complete ✅ Work to do on the inking, especially of the blue but I’m super happy with how the design has turned out. This view of a house martin in flight is my highlight of the summer, was watching them play while sitting in the yard last night
Pre-match and half-time ‘shows’ at major sporting events make me sad 😞
Currently reading: My Name Is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout 📚
Not far into this but can’t help feeling that it’s like an accessible version of Ducks, Newburyport
Starting a new project 🎨
Considering this as a new response when people ask how old I am: “As old as Ghostbusters.”
Espresso martinis on a Thursday night. Just because.
Finished reading: GREY BEES. by ANDREY. KURKOV 📚
How much I enjoyed this book and how much I cared for the bees really crept up on me. I’m going to miss starting my days with Sergey and his bees.
Currently reading: Four Thousand Weeks by Oliver Burkeman 📚
In anticipation of having more demands on my time when I start a new role at the end of the month, I’m finally sitting down to read this.
Breakfasts just got more interesting 🍳
Lunch in the park #BloomScrolling
The Byker Wall looking resplendent in the early evening sun
Time plays a role when there’s someone to keep track of it, to depend on it. And if no-one like that remains then time, too, stops and disappears.
— Andrey Kurkov, Grey Bees (translated by Boris Dralyuk)
