My landlord finally gave me a bookcase yesterday evening, so I spent the day spring cleaning, y'know, doing the windows, picture rails, skirting boards and the corners. It felt great!
There seems to be a pattern. I spend the winter feeling low and lethargic, thinking, "Will I be like this forever?" and then - it happened last year too - there is one sunny day in April when I just spring to life and clean the room from top to bottom, windows wide open and curtains fluttering in the breeze.
That day was yesterday.
Today I have been wiping down all the dusty books that have spent the past two years stacked alongside the wall by my bed. They are all on shelves now, just about. I have some amazing books, it's so exciting to see them all again! I had to laugh when I went picked one up and exclaimed, "Oh my, I have a Dictionary of Theories?!".
There are more than 200! Half are art and history books and a couple of art historical tomes - so heavy that if you could throw it, you would kill a man at a few paces.
Then there are a lot of nice reference volumes, French/Italian/Latin/Icelandic dictionaries, some family antiques, a couple of box sets, a whole shelf of literary classics and fiction.
And a bothersome pile of Christie's magazines, useful magazines, auction catalogues, maps, and guides from absolutely every place I have visited in the past four years.
Remind me never to buy another book.
My shorter, straightened hair:
Oven mitt from Jia Li in Newfoundland. It is handmade locally by a granny.
and metal bookmark from Denise in NYC. It's from Kate Spade's paperie in SoHo.
Piccadilly Circus/Regent's Street.
It is at moments like these when I remember I love London:
A goose by the pond at Regent's Park: