How is it August already? Whilst it’s still freezing and mid-winter here in Sydney (the month of August being classified as winter anywhere will never sound right to me), it’s around 9.5-12°C in the morning, clearly I’ve acclimatised. We recently moved into a rental to be closer to the school Dusty starts next February (again where did the time go?) it’s an original 60s build on stilts, so although it’s very pretty to look at with lots of windows (single glazed) the floors are like ice. I’m talking hot shower before bed, brushed cotton PJs, socks on in bed, heated pad in my bed, and I’m extra thankful for my little heated human who shows up just after midnight, accompanied by Gus, who’s now taken to sleeping on his bed, all sorts of heart-melting, oh and last of all soup and biscuits and so much tea drinking, with the soup - what started off as a lovely lady gifting me some of her soups to try has turned into me being one of her best customers and unofficial PR girl, after telling our new neighbours about her on moments before sitting down to write this I dropped them 2 cups of the OG chicken over the fence, that’s two more new customers Belinda! and I wish I had never tried M&S triple chocolate cookies, which have been half prices at Coles for the last 6 weeks I swear, I originally bought them to make some of my kitchen jars look a bit more exciting and for Dusty to have a decent biscuit in the house, cut to me devouring 2 each evening with a cup of tea, it has to stop.
The only thing I’m missing are some decent slippers - any ideas? I’m thinking of the one’s beginning with a U and ending with a G but can’t quite bring myself to go there again, I suppose if I do it will be in the name of comfort and not fashion this time around.
As most of you are reading this from the Costa del’ Kingdom, I’m aware the above links are of absolutely no use right now - so maybe it’s a screenshot-for-later situation. Or never, in my case. I think there’s a Substack in that: all the screenshots I never looked at again, completely unfiltered . . . yikes.
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