To say this hasn't happened in living memory is a step away from how breath-taking the world can be, when snow falls.

   
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My reward for completing the two job applications yesterday is that I'm finally tidying my wardrobes.  This means disgorging the contents of both onto the bed (incentive to finish the job, else I will be sleeping on the sofa tonight) sorting it into sections and colours, and then trying to get everything to go back in.  I may have to invest in a ( Read more... )

And just like that, the weekend is over, I've flown back and forth, been home, spent the nights in my own bed, and suddenly I'm back in Geneva.

I also have no food, which is more of a problem :(

My saga of continuing proof that BA are a pile of shite continues. This time, they managed to send my bag to Gatwick, not Heathrow. So the laundry I brought home to wash ended up being washed by mum, because she is awesome, and the presents for H remain sitting on my dresser, as I had no desire to bring them all the way back to GE with me.

iBro ( Read more... )

A good weekend consists of waking up, stretching out, then pulling the duvet and pillows back around me and snuggling back into the warmth of my Very Own Bed.   It's cups of tea made in a teapot, brewed and stirred before being carefully poured. It's lunch with a friend in the shadow of Windsor Castle, the drive home with potholed roads beneath the ( Read more... )

I'm home. I slept last night in my own bed, made tea in my teapot, and opened my post that was sitting on my front door.

So however blase it may be to move from hotel to work to airport to a different country in the space of one day, it's always the very small joys of being Home that make everything still so exciting.

Sometimes, many times, I look back and wonder where my idea of "me" and the "reality" of me end up being the same person. For all my ideas of propriety and organisation, and just plain sensibility, when they go out the window, I do seem to do so in a fairly spectacular way.

At least for me.

Friday, another "last day at G". Although this time I hope ( Read more... )

Today, I did my charity volunteering, walking into the village and back again in the agreeable warmth of a summer's day, but the distinct mugginess of a wet and English summer ( Read more... )

Just means that I'm home.