Skulls are everywhere at the moment aren't they? So hot right now. I've amassed this collection of grinning Tim Burton-esque spectres from bargain shops and eBay. Love them.
Here they are making an appearance with some more summer wardrobe staples. Many long, lazy layers are key.
My current favourite bed linens with His and Her embroidered pillowcases. Baby pulled the blue gingham curtains down this morning. I'm not sure if I should put them back up or if it's time to hang the mosquito nets for summer already. I've been pretending not to hear the first whines of nocturnal buzzing but I can't ignore them forever.
Is it weird that I sometimes photograph the food I make for Baby? I can't help it. I just think it looks so beautiful and appetising in its separate compartments. I know it's popular to deride the modern obsession with documenting tiny fragments of the mundane, especially if you blog about it. I think it's all feels very human though and I don't think it's anything new. History is littered with obsessive diarists, leaving lifetime long records of meals and weather reports and I've always been drawn to those stories. Blogging to me feels the same as my slavish teenage diary keeping. Like a summation, or a soundtrack.
Right now, whenever I lock the front door to go out with Baby in my arms we have to stop so he can ring the doorbell. It's just about the cutest thing ever and I want to eat his head when I watch how happy it makes him. I took this photo because he won't do it for very long and then I'll forget he ever did it at all.
I'm posting it online because, why not? There are millions of voices out there now in this vast empty space, why not murmur with them? I think that's rather beautiful too, and also very human.
I got quite introspective for a minute there, didn't I? Here's a photo of the Baby wearing funny glasses to restore the equilibrium.